The Game 69
Edited by Karen Leigh
She knew Hobbes already knew. She returned his hand squeeze gently. "Thank you, Thomas," she said softly. Impulsively, she kissed his cheek. Jess fixed her gaze on Marita and Tom. She tilted her head to one side, ears cocked forward. "Well, you with us or against us?" Her gaze asked. As Gross gathered up Wraith's unconscious form, he was urging them all out of the building. "Jess, who else is in there? We need to warn them before the building blows."
Jess tapped her muzzle and shook her head. She couldn't speak with any degree of clarity when in either he bipedal or quadruped wolf forms. Sasha, however, was monitoring the situation. "Four that we're aware of. Baines, Michael, Roy and Alexei." He paused to consult with his twin. "Alexei informs me that the stairway is clear of rubble, but we need to be careful of booby traps as we make our way to the main entrance. I don't recommend we take the route through the sewers that Jess and I entered by because we won't be out of them before the bombs go off. We should find Agent Mulder and move out of here as soon as possible."
[Charges?] Jess thought, her ears sweeping back against her head in surprise. ~Leigh,~ she mind spoke. ~You've got to get out of here now!~
Baines sounded surprised. ~Jess, we're just about to clear the rubble from the stairway so we can come down...~
~No Leigh! Krycek says the place is wired to blow up in fifteen minutes.~ Hobbes started following everyone out, only throwing a glance back.
"I don't want to leave Loren's side," Marita said to Hobbes. "Let's walk alongside Gross. Dr. Sawyer already did something to him, and this whole Phoenix thing... he was fragile enough."
As they caught up to Gross and Loren, Marita said to Hobbes, "I'm sorry I had to do such a slipshod job on your arm. How is it feeling? Once we get out of here, and we know Loren is safe, I'll look at it more carefully. It's just... I've been pretty worried..." She looked at Loren. "You must be, too... I can tell you love him a lot. Would you... would you tell me how you met him? How you met my husband?"
She felt that hearing stories about Loren, or Wraith, in happier circumstances might lower her heart rate, ease her worry... help her think more clearly.
Hobbes glanced down at his arm, seeing a trickle of blood roll down his arm. His bandage would be needing changing soon and as for the pain... he had totally forgotten about it. His mind was to much on their situation. Getting out alive.
He followed the others, keeping very close to Gross and Wraith. He turned his head slightly to Marita. "You were there when we first met... we didn't meet any other time before that... that I remember." Hobbes added. His memory before the chip was removed from him was a little foggy.
The word husband kept disturbing him however. The word made him feel dirty... like 'the other woman' in a relationship. He loved Wraith however... no Loren... Wraith... he loved him for who he was and could have been. But as Hobbes glanced at the shaken Marita, he felt... it would really never be for she wanted Loren... she wanted her husband.
Marita looked at Hobbes, seeing the pain, the love on his face. She stepped closer to him, taking his hand. As soon as Jess had warned them, Baines had hustled everyone back by the main doors, giving Michael another close up view of all the destruction they had wreaked on their way in. [Mental note - never piss Leigh off.] They were positioned outside the building now, waiting.
He kept glancing over at Roy, who was staring at the entrance. Michael had to wonder what he was going through. [If Leigh were down there, I'd be crazy with worry. Alexei must be worried about Sasha too.] Looking past Roy, he gave Baines a half smile before looking back.
There was a movement by the door, and a big black wolf padded through the entrance. Jess was apparently acting as an advanced scout. "There she is, so the others must be following." He noted the surprise and confusion on Roy's face, a bit confused until he remembered that he'd never seen Jess as a wolf. [Shit! How's he going to react to that?]
Fox huddled in the midst of the group, his bags clutched tightly to him as they made their way though the damaged building. He'd been scared enough before, but Alex's almost smug announcement that he'd set the building to explode made him feel faint with terror. He didn't dare speak to Alex - or any of the others - in case he broke down totally.
What he wanted most of all was for Mulder to come back and take charge, so that he could hide away in a dark corner of their mind and let him cope, much as Mulder depended on him when he had a social situation to endure. But Mulder wouldn't answer him sensibly; now he was rambling about being in a temple, or maybe a harem... scarlet and gold, and Alex there, touching him, drawing him onto a cushioned floor...
If he hadn't known otherwise, he'd have said Mulder was high as a kite.
Fuck, he hadn't known Alex could be like this, so fierce, so glorious in the face of danger and death. Somehow, filtered through Mulder's consciousness, it always seemed ordinary. He longed to take his hand, ask him to keep him safe, to protect him. Mulder wouldn't do something like that, though, and Alex didn't need Fox clinging to him like some maiden in a Victorian melodrama. So Fox clung to his bags instead, and prayed he wouldn't shit himself with fright.
He greeted the daylight with a huge gasp of relief, staggering on shaking legs into the open air.
Straggling out of the rubble and stinging dust, Alex and the others followed Jess. He was thankful for Jess's wonderfully well-developed senses. She'd led them out through all manner of hazards, and the others were in sight at last. He watched as Sasha and Jess ran towards Baines' group and the vibrating helicopter that was readying for take-off. "We need to get back away from the building. It's going to go up in three minutes," he panted, and the motley collection remaining made for the shelter of a nearby wall.
As they reached it, there was a dull, groaning rumble, and slowly, the mighty complex that was Innobotics seemed to fall in on itself until it was a mere memory.
"Guess we should go home now," grinned Alex.
Fox stepped in close, and slid his hand into Alex's at last. It felt so good to touch him, and to know they were both safely out of harms' way, at least for now. How the hell did Mulder cope with this, even choose to search out danger?
"Yes, please," he murmured, turning to nuzzle Alex's neck, kissing away the dust and breathing in the hot spicy scent of his sweat. "Home, hot water, and a big, big bed. Then, if you're a good boy, lover, I'll show you my souvenirs." He hefted the heavy bags onto his shoulder and climbed into the truck, drawing Alex with him.
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The dusty group climbed into the back of Gross' truck. He would not allow anyone up front as he placed Wraith in the passenger seat gently. The trip was made in silence and entry to the compound took a long time as heavily armed guards checked them all over thorough and contacted Baines via Sasha for instructions. Permission granted for entry the truck lumbered to a stop at the front door and everyone got out and straggled into the building. Marita and Hobbes stuck close to Gross who was, once again, carrying Wraith.
"Loren was taken from me... we were taken by the Consortium a long time ago. We met very early on, and once they knew we'd secretly married..." She broke off, shaking her head. "Loren was innocent! He knew nothing. He was never meant to be a part of this. Don't you see, Thomas... I didn't see. I didn't see that once the Consortium had me, they *owned* me... and everything, every*one* I loved. They started taking it all away... leaving me crumbs so that I'd do their will. I just... I didn't know..."
She bit her lip and gripped Hobbes' wrist tighter.
"I thought I was so clever when I ran away. Tried to think of everything. Obviously, I didn't."
Hobbes looked away. He had promised Wraith that he would stay with him... as his partner. Hobbes could still feel how the sealed their deal. It was magical, wonderful... he hadn't felt that way since...since Pinocchio... and he wanted to feel that way again. Hobbes sighed softly... but it may never be... even if Wraith pulls through this. Marita would either have her husband back... or Mulder would kill him for fucking Alex... one of those two things would occur. Suddenly, Marita put her arm around Hobbes, pulling him close. "Promise me, Tom. Promise me you'll help Loren and me. And Wraith. I know you love him... and I don't know if he *can* go back to Loren, or if he or I would even want him to. Tom, I'd like... I'd like the three of us to be friends, maybe more... like a family even... closer... I... I've lost everyone long ago, including myself. I... I was their prisoner... HIS prisoner... for years."
She shivered at the thought of CSM, and what he'd put her through.
"I don't want to be alone anymore, and now I've found Wraith and Loren...and you. You are a sweet man, a kind man... maybe you can help us too...free humanity, the clones. Stop the aliens." Tom turned his blues to her then raised a hand to brush a stray blond strand back, "You were their prisoner cause you allowed them to make you one. Marita, you have to learn to love yourself before you give love out to anyone... or all you are going to do is hurt."
His hand brushed her cheek as he continued, "I will help do what is right... what feels right in my heart. I trust it... you need to find your trust... within yourself." he placed his hand over her heart.
She looked at him. "You mentioned this... this Harsh Realm. Can you tell me... us..." She looked at Wraith. "can you talk about that? What... what is it? Is it another Consortium project?"
Hobbes started to answer but Gross spoke.
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Denise's response was the faintest murmur of "Yes, sir." She'd found a corner of the place where she was, and was sitting with her back to the metal... she was sure that it was metal. Her hand had come to rest on a smooth, round shape, and she was absently tracing its contours as she talked to her boss on the phone. Suddenly it dawned on her just what the thing was. It was a skull. A fucking skull. There was a shriek from Denise as she hurled the thing from her, and then muffled whimpers. "Hurry. I'm... I'm in with a pile of bones."
Turning off the phone to conserve the batteries was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. When it was silent, and she'd replaced it in her pocket, she buried her face in her hands and began to cry, hopelessly.
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Well, that had worked out well. Cory had been more than a little dismayed to feel Methos' unmistakable presence as he and Philip entered the dining hall. Had felt the instant tension radiating off of Philip as Methos and Anson walked past them. And he hadn't even a CLUE as to why the tension existed or how to deal with its aftermath.
So, in typical Cory fashion, he decided to ignore it all. Hope that food - the simple ordinariness of eating - would bring Philip back from wherever he'd zoned to when they'd run into the other Immortal.
Then, what do you know? Without even thinking about it, he'd said exactly the right thing. Who'd have thought that calling Philip's room 'our room' would have made such a difference. If anything, Cory had cringed inwardly when his words registered, expecting Philip to react negatively. The man was so confused and defensive and... so damned skittish, Cory felt like he was walking on eggshells every moment he spent with Philip.
Once Philip relaxed, even smiled and made a suggestive remark, Cory found himself unaccountably relieved. And started looking forward to going back to Philip's - their - room after the meal. He didn't even care if anything happened beyond sleep. No, he just wanted to be able to BE with someone.
Even if only for a night.
Philip felt the spike of Cory's discomfort, quickly submerged though it was. Even as they settled at the table, both seeming more than ready to dig into their food, he wondered if the Immortal's remark had merely been a slip, which he was now good-naturedly living with. His own reply, Philip thought, would only have made things more awkward. Naturally, Cory would be going to that boyish android...
He should have realized. And yet, as he gratefully concentrated on the food in front of him, Philip knew that even if he had, he'd probably have done no different. He wanted to remain in Cory's company like this, even if it could only be for a little while longer.
Taking a drink of his coffee, Philip raised his eyes and found Cory regarding him with companionable interest.
Smiling at Philip, enjoying the way the man seemed to be relaxing as they shared the meal, Cory hesitated to speak. The last thing he wanted right now was to mention anything that might bring Philip's defenses up. Which pretty much left out anything about immortality, as the concept seemed to be firmly linked to Methos in Philip's mind. And when Philip started thinking about Methos... Well, Cory would just have to make sure that didn't happen.
So, he concentrated on eating, offering Philip a smile when their eyes met. And keeping carefully quiet.
He had so many questions, unaccountably had an impulse to tell the man something of the strange past that had led him to this even stranger present, but... Unsure of just how to break the lengthening silence -- 'So, this not-dying thing's really working out for you, huh? Must've been handy during the Black Plague.'...?--Philip simply returned Cory's smiles and went on with his meal. His own keen hunger took care of the rest.
Finally, almost finished now, he knew his time was about up, and knew he couldn't recall when or if the thought had ever touched him with this sort of regret. He pushed away a momentary image of Anson, enraged and hurt, and reached for his neatly packaged takeaway, clearing his throat.
Glancing around the room as he stood, Philip saw that the table at which Cory's partner had been sitting with Beau and Matthew was now occupied by another -- no, not a clone, but one of them all the same -- and a sweet-faced Mac, sharing a dessert. Not only had Cory not acknowledged the adoring youth's departure, he didn't even seem to have noticed it...
The Immortal was looking up at him, puzzled and waiting. A slow smile spreading across his face, Philip said, "That was great, but I think I need to walk it off a little before bed. Care to join me?"
"Absolutely!" Cory answered. He rose to his feet and, with Philip, headed for the door. "I haven't had much of a chance to investigate this place so far."
Pausing in the wide hallway, Cory looked at Philip. "How about we check out the inner rooms?"
As they wandered along, Cory decided to try drawing Philip out a bit since the man seemed relatively relaxed for the moment. "So, we haven't really had a chance to talk much. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself? Philip? How did you end up here?"
The two men walked companionably down the corridor as Philip began to give Cory the background to his arrival in DC.
"So you were meaning to fly into Athens and suddenly found yourself compelled to come here? That's Twilight Zone stuff. You must be feeling pretty confused right now."
Philip nodded. "Just walked away and left everything, and ended up..." he gestured to encompass the compound..."here. Another face in the crowd. Or the same face. That right there...not just seeing myself everywhere, but having to realize I'm not who I thought. Never was. Then, finding out I'm not *what* I thought I was, either..." He cut the Immortal a sidelong look. "None of which has ever been a problem for you, I'd guess."
"Fuck no. I'm me. You're not. It's that simple. So you have my face. It's a pretty face. I've never been distressed to see it; better than looking like some of the poor folk you see. Now if we all looked like Joan Rivers or someone I'd be singing the blues, but face it, we're gorgeous!" Cory surveyed Philip as they walked along together easily. "You're only another face in the crowd if you don't have any sense of identity. You know who you are, don't you?"
Cory grinned at Philip, and drew a little closer to the clone, that almost-quickening he sensed in the other man a heady and delicious sensation as their skin touched momentarily, as delicious as the bubbles in champagne.
The shock that washed over him as Cory brushed against him intensified the pleasure Philip was taking in the man's company, and heightened his anticipation. It was like a constant low-grade arousal of his entire being, even as it helped soothe his raw nerves. Not enough, he realized, to fill that part of him left empty when his god had turned away...but it could do, for a while. Oh yes.
As the two men walked through the complex, opening doors and peering into each room they passed, they began to settle into an easy camaraderie
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Gabriel wandered through the long, empty hallways, passing the occasional Mac27 and human, surprised at how differently he viewed everyone now from his 'new' perspective. They were all so equally fascinating and beautiful. But none of them held his attention the way that Cory did.
He was careful to shut off his direct connection with Beau, in deference of their privacy.
He was very happy for Beau and Matthew but really he had come no closer to finding a solution to his Cory problem. He knew now that his feelings for Cory were true - he did love the Immortal. He could tell because of the regard that Beau had felt for Matthew... In comparison, of course, his own love for Cory more resembled a form of hero worship, whereas Beau's feelings for Matthew were founded on a more realistic level.
But nevertheless, he had to deal with this 'love' - it was so totally overwhelming. Now that he was no longer distracted by his two new friends, he found himself slipping alarmingly quickly back into a prepossessed and anxious state.
He turned the corner and had to muffle a gasp. There, making their way down the long, wide hallway, was Philip - and Cory.
No. No, no, NO! He ducked back, realizing that he'd wandered too close to the cafeteria. What passed for his heart within his android chest was thumping wildly. What passed for his veins were flooded with nervous tension and heat - and fear.
He was not ready to face Cory again so soon. Particularly not when the Immortal was with his human friend and companion. It was too painful.
Pain - that jagged, tearing emotional sensation that ripped through his entire being - it was back, slamming into him with such force that he didn't know what to do.
Cautiously, he peered around the corner - they continued to walk away and at last turned the corner and were gone, appearing to have been unaware he was behind them. He remained there, by the corner. And turned to go back the way he'd come, taking another route through the compound, away from the direction they were going. If he kept on this corridor, he'd end up back outside.
He stopped along the empty stretch of hall though, and leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. He was alarmed to find liquid splashing down his face. But it was as if the pain inside of him could only find release this way.
Silly of him, to even imagine or hope or dream that he could hope to take the place of a human by the side of his beloved Immortal. No, he couldn't continue to dwell on this. He would put it away and try to understand why his heart and new emotional self should misbehave so horribly as to continue to cling to a lost cause.
Brushing his tears away, he sorrowfully continued on down the corridor.
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Anson sat in a kind of numb disbelief. He'd just sat and poured out his heart to Methos for over half an hour and the man had jumped up abruptly, leaving him sitting there wondering what he'd done wrong.
When it became clear that Methos was not even interested in seeing if Anson accompanied him, running after him became a less than appealing option.
He remained sitting at the table, feeling the shock begin to fade into a dull ache. Methos had just made it very clear that he in fact *did* consider him nothing more than a tag-along.
Anson finally pulled himself to his feet and left the cafeteria, slowly and quietly wandering down the halls. He wasn't even sure what he was doing; just that it felt better than sitting there alone where Methos had just got up and left him. Without a word of explanation.
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