In and Out of Time 6/10

Title: In and Out of Time (6/?)
Author: wonderbread9
Rating: PG-13 - R
Characters: The Cast of Kyle XY, OCs here and there
Pairings: Kyle/Amanda, Kyle/Jessi, implied Jessi/Josh
Warnings: See previous chapters

Disclaimer: If I owned Kyle XY, there would be no discussion: Season 4 would be on the menu.

Author's Note: I’m trying to perfect my ‘show-not-tell’ method of writing. So, um…if any of yous guys would be so kind, can you tell me if I’m doing a good job? Thank ‘ees so much!

Summary: “Mark,” he whispered in genuine disappointment. “Such a pity.”

The younger man drew back in fear and opened his mouth to scream, but the exclamation of terror never resounded. Cassidy pounced on him, like a seasoned predator, subduing Mark’s flailing, panic-stricken attempts to flee.

“Can’t have you ruining the game before it even gets started,” Cassidy whispered with a silken purr, taking hold of the flailing young man’s neck in a choke hold.

8o8o8

VI.

The whir of hospital machines came to Lori’s ears like strange whispers as she sat still, watching the night nurse smooth a white blanket across Josh’s gently rising and falling chest. He was pale, even with the warm glow of hospital lamps surrounding his still figure, his cheeks were gaunt, black circles ringed his eyes and the IV tube that protruded from his pale, thin arm and looked like some kind of opaque alien, slug draining the life out of him. Lori’s gaze never wavered, not once, not even when the night nurse asked her if she wanted water; Lori waved her off, barely acknowledging the older, grandmotherly woman’s presence. The woman went off with a gentle smile and an ‘it’ll-be-alright-soon’ kind of shrug. But Lori knew—she knew deep down in the very depths of her soul—that nothing would ever be alright. Nothing would ever be alright again.

First Jessi, now Josh. She’d always heard that disaster came in threes, and if what she was seeing now was bad, she wondered what the third bomb shell would be. World War Three? She could’ve laughed at her own pathetic try for humor, but she wasn’t Josh; she wasn’t the one that could get away with the oh-so-not-funny quips delivered at the most inopportune times and made everyone feel uncomfortable when the situation called for seriousness. She was just little Lori Trager, and once again she felt useless, useless to help her mother those many weeks ago, and now useless to help both Josh and Jessi.

Her nostrils flared, her jaw hardened and her hands clenched into tight, white fists. She shifted in her hospital seat, first from one position then to the other, feeling the rough fabric of her jeans sliding across her thighs as she moved. She heard the rustle of her clothing and the muted conversation of her mother and father’s low voices just outside of the room. They were probably discussing what had happened; they were probably discussing what to do. Her jaw clenched tighter, her molars pressing into one another, the muscles in her neck straining under the pressure. Finally, she looked away.

This was all so wrong, very, very wrong. Josh shouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed with the doctors, the nurses and even Kyle stumped with what was wrong with him. Josh should’ve been up, making wisecracks and jokes. Josh should’ve been standing right beside her telling her that she should stop being a big baby, that everything was going to be alright in that tone of voice of his that brooked no argument and was unshakable in its belief. But he wasn’t right beside her. He was the one that was hurt and there was no one to lean on, no one to comfort her. No one to tell her to act her age and man up.

She wanted to cry, but she knew that wouldn’t solve anything, and the hysterical outburst that she had let loose earlier when she had been told exactly what had happened to Josh more than adequately made up for any lack of crying now. This had to have had something to do with Jessi’s disappearance, but what it could be and how it tied into Latnok was beyond her. She couldn’t figure out the pieces of this very strange puzzle and she so desperately wanted to. She wanted to get her life back; she wanted to set it back on the weird, crazy, but normal path that it had been. She wanted her family safe; she wanted her friends safe. She was sick to death of mortal powers playing with her life and her family’s lives.

Lori stood, unable to stand the quiet that blanketed Josh’s room. She looked over her brother’s prone form, unchanged since she had checked it only a few short moments ago, sighed and stepped out into the hallway, breathing deep. The hospital smelled clean, like pinesol and decontaminants. It felt cold, like a meat locker. She hugged herself and looked around, trying to find the other members of the Trager clan. Her mother and father were some feet away from Josh’s room, heads bowed in deep conversation. From what Lori could see of her mother’s face, it looked like the older woman had been crying. Andy, a late arrival to this dismal party, was seated in a waiting chair, holding a rapidly warming soda in her hand, staring off into nowhere. Lori sighed again, not wanting to deal with her brother’s girlfriend right at that moment.

Andy didn’t know the secrets that the Trager family kept. She didn’t know about Kyle or Jessi or what had happened, and to add that to her already heavy burden just wasn’t fair. Besides, it was Josh’s secret to tell. Instead, Lori walked over to her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly before turning away and continuing down the hall; she didn’t see Andy’s sad smile of gratitude nor heard the other girl get up and walk into Josh’s room to keep the unconscious boy company. She stumbled onto Kyle and Amanda instead, just around the corner, the latter of the pair trying desperately to comfort Kyle. She didn’t hear exactly what Amanda had said, but whatever it was had Kyle shaking his head furiously, his blue eyes blazing and him stalking off down the hall.

She stumbled onto Kyle instead, sans Amanda; he was a solitary figure standing, head bowed amidst the rush of hospital staff and nurses and doctors running to and fro. She paused, her brown eyes roving over his slumped shoulders, his downcast eyes, and the hard press of his lips together. It was the look he got when he was thinking about something that was particularly troubling to him, and no doubt the subject that currently occupied his thoughts—that occupied everyone’s thoughts at the moment—was what exactly happened to Josh at the spot where Jessi disappeared and whether or not it had something to do with Jessi’s disappearance. She wished desperately that it didn’t, that somehow the events were unrelated, but she knew there was no chance in hell that her hope would be fulfilled. She watched him a few minutes longer, not wanting to intrude on his quiet, but soon he was looking up, his blue eyes capturing her in the intensity of their gaze.

She stood frozen, mouth parting, wanting to say something, anything, that would relieve Kyle of this burden he carried, but she just didn’t have the energy. Just as much as she couldn’t spare Andy the energy to dip and dodge the desperate looks that the younger girl shot her way, or the questions that lurked deep within Andy’s green eyes, she didn’t have any energy to spare Kyle or the conflict of emotions that she was sure was stirring deep within his soul. All she wanted was normal, all she craved was waking up from this nightmare and living the same boring, uneventful existence that she had become accustomed to before Kyle arrived or the craziness that he adopted brother brought. She knew the thoughts were uncharitable. She knew that she was being unfair, but Josh was lying on a hospital bed, pale and sickly looking, and Jessi was still missing.

“Lori,” Kyle greeted, his voice a quiet whisper that carried over the bustle of the hospital.

“Kyle.” She attempted to smile, but was sure the action resembled a grimace. Eventually, she just stopped trying and went to lean against the wall next to her adopted brother, sighing deeply. She crossed her arms over her chest, sighing again and they fell silent, Kyle’s eyes immediately dropping to the floor, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. A diminutive nurse walked by, flashing them a brief smile before continuing on her way, arms loaded with patients’ charts. Lori watched her disappear down an opposite hall, wondering if she saw tragedy every single day or whether or not the Trager clan was unique. Like maybe, somehow, tragedy seemed to follow the small family everywhere and this woman was getting a small glimpse into that.

“Kyle,” she began, the silence becoming oppressive. “I—”

“It’s so strange,” Kyle interrupted, the troubled frown still creasing his features. He looked up and met her puzzled gaze before looking away again.

“What?” Lori asked, her own frown creasing her features. Kyle nibbled his lip uncertainly.

“You would think that something like this happening, Jessi disappearing and…and Josh, that the whole world would stop,” he replied, his voice puzzled. “But it just—” he looked around the hospital, his gaze sweeping over everything with that same sort of puzzled uncertainty “—keeps going…like, like nothing’s happened, like nothing’s wrong.”

“Yeah,” Lori admitted with a helpless shrug, “Well…that’s the world for you, Kyle, and it sucks. What’s going on here, and with us, I’d hate to say it, but to other people…it doesn’t matter.”

She wrapped her arms tighter about herself, wishing that it did matter, wishing that people would stop, would see that something terrible had happened and that there was nothing that she could do to make it right, to change it all and set her would back to the same weird, crazy, strange constant that it had been. She looked up, physically feeling the emotional recoil that wracked Kyle’s body at the cold, hard unforgiving reality that she admitted. She looked up as his watery blue eyes met hers and she saw the emotional turmoil that roiled within.

“But it does matter,” Kyle protested. “Jessi…Josh, they matter, everything...right now…It-It all matters. It has to. Everything—”

“Then, then what are you going to do about it?” Lori cut in, sharply. Confusion colored Kyle’s features.

“Lori, I—”

“When Amanda disappeared,” Lori began, her voice firm despite the heartbreak that she felt, “you went after her, you did everything in your power to get her back. Why’s Jessi any different?”

Kyle’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Finally, he shut his mouth and looked at her then looked away.

“I know this is hard. I know that every time something goes wrong we look to you to help us, but right now—right now—you have to step up, Kyle, even if you don’t want to. Go after her,” Lori begged. “Please…Jessi’s…Jessi’ starting to mean so much to this family…and she’s all alone. Kyle, you have to—”

“I-I can’t,” his interrupted, his voice clearly shaken. Lori’s pinned him with an incredulous look.

“You—what?” Lori replied in disbelief. “You can’t go after her. You can’t—Kyle, what the hell—“

She couldn’t help the sharp reprimand that filled her voice, or the sudden anger that gripped her and made her want to grab her adopted brother by his shoulders and shake him senseless. It might not do anything to such an advanced body like Kyle’s, but it would’ve made her feel better. Jessi was out there, all by herself, with some crazy monster probably doing who knew what. It didn’t matter to Lori that Jessi was just as advanced in body as Kyle or that she had proven in more than enough situations that she could handle herself. All Lori could see in her mind’s eye was Jessi’s watery brown eyes and her quivering lips and that beaten look that she got whenever she was chastised. She just wanted Jessi home, and it surprised her in that moment just how strong that want was.

“I’m just…” he hesitated, breathed deep. “I’m just scared.”

“Oh, Kyle.” Lori sighed and pulled her adopted brother into a tight, but comforting embrace. Sometimes she forgot how naïve Kyle was to the big, bad world and how much of the world he didn’t understand.

She held him close and whispered, “Nothing’s going to happen to Jessi, Kyle, because you’re going to find her. She’s important to us, but she’s more important to you. I know that and because of that, you’re going to go out there and you’re going to bring her home.” She pulled back and met her brother’s eyes squarely. “Okay?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded. “O-Okay.”

“What’s going on?” came the concerned question from behind. Both Kyle and Lori gave a start before Lori turned and saw Amanda standing a few feet away, with two cold sodas in hand. Her blue eyes mirrored the concern that resonated in her voice. Lori pursed her lips at the other girl and glanced back at Kyle. His eyes were trained on the blonde haired teen, following every move that she made like she was a snake-charmer and he was the python that was entranced by her song. Lori wanted to roll her eyes, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over her. She turned, gave Kyle a meaningful look and mouthed, ‘Jessi’ before sending a small smile Amanda’s way and heading back down the hall towards Josh’s room, to comfort her parents. Kyle watched her leave, feeling the weight that had lifted upon seeing Lori and speaking with her, settle all the more heavily back on his shoulders.

“Kyle?” Amanda implored, and his gaze snapped back to hers as she stepped forward, soda cans held precariously in her grip. Her look was a worried one.

“Amanda,” Kyle began, his voice grim, “I have to go.”

The disappointed look that covered her features was enough to break his heart, but he couldn’t spare the focus that he was steadily building to comfort her. He had to find Jessi. He had to get her back. It was like a wave of energy was surging through him, an energy that had been noticeably missing in the last twenty-four hours of Jessi’s disappearance.

“Why?” Amanda asked, coming up to him, invading his personal space. Her baby blues were imploring as they gazed up at him, but he swiftly looked away, putting distance between himself and her warm, beckoning body. “Kyle?”

“Amanda,” he said, his voice firm, his body filling with a resolve that he was struggling to feel, “I have to do this. I have to…I have to go after Jessi. I have to save her.”

“Jessi.” Amanda rolled her eyes heavenward and shook her head. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Amanda—”

“No,” she growled, angrily. “I get it. She needs help…all the time…but Josh is in the hospital, Kyle, and nobody knows what happened, and all you can think about is getting her, getting to Jessi…again. Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” Kyle growled back, suddenly very angry, “I care more than you could ever possibly know, but Jessi needs me. Jessi needs my help and I can’t ignore her either.” He shook his head, frowning at her. “And I can’t believe you’d expect me to.”

“Fine then go,” Amanda groused. “Just…whatever. Go.”

Kyle met her gaze squarely and found anger, annoyance and hurt radiating from Amanda’s deep blue eyes and all he wanted to do was go to her, wrap her in his arms and tell her everything, everything about him, everything about his past and all the secrets that he had kept from her, but he knew—felt—almost like the minute atmospheric changes he detected just before a coming storm, a divide between them widening, widening even more so than before. It wasn’t just the secrets that was keeping them apart, it wasn’t just Jessi’s presence that was keeping them apart or the kiss that had finally ended their relationship. It was something else, something—a feeling washed over Kyle as Jessi’s face flashed before his mind’s eye and butterflies danced madly in his gut—that he was scared to admit, even to himself. He shuddered, swallowed and stepped even farther away from Amanda, towards the hospital’s exit.

“Kyle,” Amanda called, one last time, her voice much softer, pleading. “Kyle, don’t—”

He turned on his heel and ran, ran from the suddenly, very stifling hospital, from Amanda’s imploring gaze and Josh’s still, prone form on the hospital bed.

He had to find Jessi.

He had to bring her home.

8o8o8

It was a few hours later, with the sun setting over the city of Seattle, spreading a brilliant display of blues, hot pinks and blazing oranges over the skyline, that Josh woke with a shudder and a gasp, breath expelled from strained lungs before his eyes opened a crack then shut just as quickly. The headache that swept over him in those few seconds felt like someone had river-danced across his brain and he groaned, trying to lift his hands to massage his temple and alleviate him from some of the pain.

“Josh?” came the barely breathed inquiry. Josh froze, heart stopping momentarily in the cave of his chest before slamming back to life. His eyes snapped open and his breath caught as bright light washed over his vision, setting his never-endings on fire with the pain. Tears leaked at the edges of his eyes, but he blinked them back, blinked back the painful, blinding light until the world was clear and he was looking into the face of a girl he thought he’d never see again.

“A-Andy?” His throat was raw, his voice came out a croaking groan, but he struggled to sit up nonetheless. His limps and muscles protested every movement that he made, but he continued to pull himself up into a sitting position, his thighs trembling with the effort. She paused, frozen herself, before uttering a relieved sob and rushing to gather him up in a tight embrace.

“God, Josh,” she breathed, “don’t you ever do that to me again.” She met his pain-filled gaze with her own, an unnamed emotion swimming in her eyes’ deep, green depths.

“Jesus, Andy,” he whispered, pulling her close again, ignoring the pain that ripped through his body, taking in the feel of her, the scent of her, the way her hair tickled his nose as it brushed passed it. Her body was warm, trembling, and all he wanted to do was hold her close and never let her go.

Memories rushed passed his shut eyelids, burning cities and dying comrades, and the blue-eyed man that had caused it all, but other pictures were crashing into those strange images, of his childhood, of dumping a whole bowl of yogurt on Lori’s head when he was six and she was eight, a whole world of images that were running together, bleeding into the other. He wasn’t sure which reality was which. He saw Andy die in his mind’s eye, but saw her—those many weeks ago—coming out of the boy’s bathroom with the bright colors of G4 displayed across the screen of her laptop. He saw Jessi’s deep brown eyes, lust-filled, staring up at him from a field of stark, burned grass, but knew that she was still missing. Everything was a jumble, everything was a whirlwind of confusion that left him scrambling to pick up the jagged pieces. His body trembled, a shudder of fear running through him.

“Josh?” Andy’s voice cut through the confusion like a lighthouse through darkness and he looked up at her, eyes watering, lips trembling.

“You’re alive?” he asked, wanting to believe it, knowing it to be true. But then, maybe, it was untrue and he was somewhere dying on a battlefield. Screams rushed through his ears from a different time, from a different place and the whip-crack sound of a gun firing off rounds somewhere to his left filled his ears like a haunting echo. He flinched.

“Of course,” Andy replied, trying for a smile. She cupped his face in her hands, pulled him close, kissed him and it felt like heaven to his crazed mind. “Josh, what’s wrong?”

“I have to go,” he said, urgency filling his voice. “I have to get out of here.”

“Hey,” she replied in a frightened tone, “you big jerk, you’re scaring me. Look, I’m-I’m going to go get your parents, okay?” She started to pull away from him, but Josh’s hand shot out, grabbed her and jerked her back. She uttered a surprised, fearful gasp.

“No,” he protested, his eyes wild. “Something’s going to happen, or has happened, or is happening. Something bad.”

“Josh, you-you need help,” she whispered, trying to pull her arm from his vise-like grip. “Something is wrong with you. You’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” Josh growled, his eyes darting this way and that. From somewhere in his memories a cannon exploded and he nearly cried out in alarm, but when he looked around, there was no battlefield, only the dim comforting glow of a Seattle hospital. He didn’t understand. He turned to Andy, met her frightened gaze. “I want to go home. Does home still exist?”

“Josh,” she began.

“No,” Josh interrupted. “I need to go home. He’s going to be there, or He is there, or He’s already left. I need to stop Him.”

“Who?” she asked, the terror that she had felt building since she had gotten the phone call from Lori that Josh was in the hospital finally reaching its breaking point.

“Kyle,” Josh replied, his voice colored with confusion. “I have stop Kyle.”

“Why? What did Kyle do?”

“It’s not what he’s done, or maybe he has done it and I’m too late,” Josh answered, finally releasing her and gripping his head in his hands. “Maybe I’m too late and he’s already—”

“Josh, what are you talking about?” Andy’s voice rose an octave in fear.

“Kyle,” Josh replied, finally meeting her gaze with a confused one of his own. “He’s-He’s going to destroy everything…I have to stop him or maybe I have…or maybe it’s too late…or maybe I’m early. Andy, I need to go home.”

“I’m going to go get your parents.” Andy stepped away from him and fled the room, and this time Josh didn’t stop her. He sat on his hospital bed, body trembling, with his mind sorting through the mess that his memories had suddenly become, trying desperately to find a balance, an order to the chaos. Was everything destroyed? Was he too late? He looked up and around him at the quiet room, at the hospital monitors and the other empty beds that surrounded his. There were no dying or injured soldiers around him, there was no medic screaming desperately for supplies that they just didn’t have and certainly the explosion of well-aimed grenades weren’t sending sound waves after sound waves reverberating through the hospital building.

Was this war time? Had they won? Was the Des-Kyl-Destroyer dead? Josh shut his eyes against the confusion and lay back down gingerly in his bed, looking up at the ceiling, feeling panic want to overtake him, but pushing it back. He was a hardened soldier, right? Right? He should be able to handle this. Maybe this was a dream or maybe it was some new device that the Destroyer had come up with. The thought made Josh’s stomach curl.

“Josh?” came Lori’s voice and he sat up again, shot up more like, and turned to the vision of his older sister, his eyes wide.

“Lori?” he asked in disbelief. She smiled at him.

“Are you okay?”

A dream. A nightmare. Lori was dead, but she wasn’t, but she was. His family was killed, but they weren’t, but they were. Time was slamming into him like two opposing tides and all he could do was pull back, scramble from his hospital bed, jerking the IV from his arm, blood immediately pouring down his hand.

“You’re dead,” he shouted, panicked. “You’re all dead!”

“Josh,” Andy cried. “Josh, calm down!”

“Dead,” Josh cried back. “This is something new, isn’t it? Something that the Destroyer cooked up to confuse us. Screw with our memories. This never happened.”

“Josh, please.” Lori opened her arms wide, beckoning him to come into her embrace, but he wouldn’t be tricked. He wouldn’t be fooled. This was a new game that the Destroyer was playing, he was sure of it. Lori turned to Andy, who was frozen, staring at Josh in a fascinated kind of horror.

“Go get a doctor,” Lori ordered. When Andy didn’t react, Lori grabbed the other girl’s shoulders and shook her. “Go!”

Andy nodded, shakily, and rushed out immediately as Lori turned back to her brother and said in a firm tone, “I don’t know what’s going on, little brother, but everything’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not,” Josh protested. “Don’t you see? Don’t you—He’s turned everything upside down. He’s gotten into my head. He’s taken everything. He’s crushed us. He’s crushed the rebellion. Now, no one can stop Him!”

He turned around, faced the hospital wall and punched it with all the force that existed in his pale, thin arm. It hurt, it hurt more than anything, as he felt his knuckles collide with the wall’s hard concrete surface. He pulled his arms back, cradled his hand and stared at it. Stared at it long and hard, his eyes widening.

“Young,” he hissed, painfully flexing his hand. He lifted the other, blood covered knuckle to his face. “Both young.” He touched his chest, smearing his blood across the front of the hospital gown. “No scars. Young body. Doesn’t make any sense. I’m thirty-years-old. I’m thirty.”

He shuddered, sank to the floor, mind even more confused and jumbled than it had been.

“Josh,” came Lori’s soft voice from behind. He turned and looked at her and she approached him cautiously, settling down beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please, tell what’s happening to you.”

“I don’t know,” Josh replied, lifting his hands to his face and staring at them.

“Let me get that.” Lori pulled his still bleeding hand to her, and covered it with her own, trying to stop the flow of blood. Her palm was warm. It was real. He could feel the rapid pulse that beat underneath the skin.

“You’re alive,” he said, his eyes roving over her face, taking in her features.

“Of course,” she replied.

“But…” Josh’s voice trailed off and he looked away. “Mom and Dad? Alive?”

“All of us.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Josh, what’s happening to you?”

He shrugged. “Where’s Jessi?”

“Still missing,” Lori answered, quietly.

“Missing?” Josh mulled on that, frowned.

“Don’t you remember?” Lori asked in a small, frightened tone.

“No,” Josh admitted faintly.

It was then that the doctor finally arrived and Josh, after some coaxing, was finally put back to bed. Andy cornered Lori in the hall, her eyes watery, but her face determined.

“I know you know something,” she stated, firmly. Lori looked away and nodded.

“When all this is over,” Andy said. “You guys are going to tell me everything.”

8o8o8

The recreation room was silent and dark as Mark stepped inside, brow furrowed and eyes darting this way and that, looking for other wayward young scientists like himself, but there was no one. The science department building was strangely silent for a night like this; usually there was a constant hustle and bustle of faces, old and new, working at their stations on the next great invention or others hanging out near the pool table or bar discussing whatever bright minds like him discussed on their down time. He stepped fully into the quiet room, frown deepening as he walked towards his station, strewn with haphazard stacks of papers, research notes, books and a picture of Lori that he had taken while she wasn’t looking. He smiled faintly when he saw it, picked it up for a moment and admired the subtle beauty of his girlfriend in relaxed repose, her face unmarred by the small, but constant frown that seemed to linger around her features.

He knew that his involvement with a shady organization like Latnok might not appeal to Lori. He knew that if she found out about his involvement with the secret society that she’d probably do more to him than give him a dressing down with that infamous Lori Trager Tongue Lashing that he had to realize she was well-known for. After all, the higher ups had told him to stop seeing her when they’d found out that she was Kyle’s adopted sister and then, quite suddenly, changed their mind within the same span of a week. He knew that would not go over well with the headstrong girl, but he was committed to Latnok, just as much as he was committed to her. They’d paved the way for his future, after all, when his family didn’t have the money to. He owed them, but he knew there would come a time, very soon, that he would have to let his girlfriend know of his ties to the society.

He put the picture down after a moment and turned to his desk, frown back in place, looking around for the small, black USB drive that he had forgotten about earlier today. It contained a plethora of notes that he had been steadily building up all week, gearing up for his own project that involved sound waves and echolocation for the military, but had accidently left behind on a mad dash to get to a DJing gig half-way across town. He’d meant to go straight home after the gig and get started on the first half of the project, but—upon finding that the drive wasn’t with him—had to turn around and make the arduous trip back to the university to retrieve it. All he wanted to do now was find it, get home, call Lori and get started on his work. He shifted a few stacks of papers around, looked underneath other stacks and resettled Lori’s picture elsewhere on the desk, but could not find it.

He made a puzzled sound and bit his lip, looking underneath the work station and crouching low to the ground to search the floor. Maybe he’d dropped it—?

It was then that he heard the familiar, lilting accent of Michael Cassidy, patron saint golden boy of the Latnok superiors. Mark looked up, but did not rise as Cassidy passed close by his workstation, engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation with someone on his cellphone. Mark could hear the other’s voice—clearly male and accented much like Cassidy’s—but could not hear what the other was saying.

“Yes, yes, I understand that we’re under a time schedule, but I’m doing my best to—“ Cassidy stopped abruptly, right next to Mark’s station and the younger man swallowed, holding his breath.

“You don’t understand the delicacies of this situation,” Cassidy growled, angrily. “If Kyle doesn’t see the façade that I am trying to build then he’ll never join us and everything that Latnok’s been planning will be for naught. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Mark heard what appeared to be a muffled argument issue forth from the phone and Cassidy’s annoyed, but muttered curse.

“I understand your feelings on the matter, Blackston,” Cassidy continued, his tone much lighter and more obliging, “but I don’t think we should be taking any drastic measures just yet.”

Cassidy was moving off towards his office and Mark, curious to the conversation and what it pertained to Kyle, peeked his head above the top of the desk, watching as Cassidy disappeared down the hall. He stood and looked around. His first instinct told him to get out, get away and pretend like he never heard anything at all. After all, whatever happened between Kyle and Cassidy was their business and he, more than anyone, knew not to tango with the higher-ups of Latnok’s elite.

But the thought of Lori gave him pause. What if whatever Latnok were planning for Kyle somehow hurt Lori? He couldn’t stand by while Cassidy plotted and schemed whatever dastardly plan he had for the dark-haired blue-eyed boy and ignore the fact that Lori could somehow get caught up in the crossfire. Lori was his girlfriend, and while sometimes she annoyed the hell out of him with her nick-picking and her sometimes unwanted snarky comments, he cared about her, cared about her deeply and he didn’t want any harm to come to her; especially not if he could have somehow prevented it.

So, ignoring the warning bells and the little voice in his head that was yelling at him in increasingly louder volume to get away, Mark followed Cassidy quietly down the hall. He assumed the man had gone to his office, but as he got closer to it, he heard Cassidy talking to the mysterious “Blackston” from further down the hall. Mark paused, listened, breathed and continued forward, stepping lightly and trying not to make a sound. He had never been this far into the science department. He’d known that the building was pretty expansive, but his scope of it was confined only to the recreation room and the science labs that sat in an adjacent room to the rec. room.

He didn’t know that beyond Cassidy’s door had lay this hallway that was fast departing from its safe atmosphere, hardwood interior and walls covered with pictures of past scholars and scientists to grace the science departments halls. No, the air was beginning to feel colder and sterile, like a hospital or a morgue. Goose pimples rose along the flesh of his arm at the sudden temperature drop and as Mark continued on—following the sound of Cassidy’s voice—he noticed the scenery around him changing from the hardwoods that he was used to to metal piping and concrete walls and dull linoleum floors that had seen better days; it felt like he was entering a military base and not the science department of a city university.

Up ahead the light grew dimmer and Mark had to squint to see. Cassidy had rounded a corner to the left and Mark paused as the little voice in his head, the little voice of reason that had never steered him wrong when it had lead him to accept Latnok’s invitation, when it had to him that there was just something about Lori Trager and all the other million-million times it had warned him like a sixth sense to not do something because of the dire consequences that could be exacted spoke up and told him, ‘Turn back now, Mark. Go home. Pretend like you never saw this place. You never heard Cassidy. Just go him.’

He nibbled his lip and glanced back the way he had come. There was light back there, and freedom, and the lie that he could tell himself if anything bad did happen to Lori: ‘I wasn’t there. I didn’t hear anything. I don’t know anything.’

But he couldn’t just leave knowing that whatever was going on could potentially hurt Lori, directly or indirectly. He’d never he able to look himself in mirror knowing that he’d chickened out at the last minute and that he could’ve helped, even in this small way. So, he turned on his heel and he continued forward, following the fading sounds of Cassidy’s voice and praying to whatever powers existed in the universe that his sudden chivalry wasn’t going to get him killed.

8o8o8

Michael Cassidy was more than a little angry.

He was livid, and the burning emotion only mounted as he listened to the condescending tone that Aaron Blackston spoke to him with that he usually reserved for incompetent subordinates. But Cassidy was no subordinate; he was Blackston’s equal and if the other man were standing right in front of him at that moment, Cassidy would’ve shoved his fist right down the smug bastard’s throat. Instead, he listened to Blackston’s tirade for the umpteenth time, trying to keep his own temper in check. He didn’t need the hassle that Blackston could bring to his operations in Seattle. All he needed to do was keep Blackston dangling on a very loose leash while he continued on his own course of action, and—when he could produce the desired results that the ‘olde guard’ were looking to achieve—he’d be the one smug and smirking whilst Blackston scrambled about like the useless fool that he was.

It was only a matter of time.

“Of course, Aaron,” Cassidy purred in a tone of voice that he hoped sounded agreeable. The other man grunted on the other end.

“I assume you know the importance of having experiment 781227 under our control,” the other man continued, “and we have been waiting for months for satisfactory updates on his progress and his induction in our ranks, and yet there is nothing. Nothing to show for all our efforts in funding your little venture. You have one week, Michael. One week.”

“A week?!” Cassidy exclaimed angrily. “Blackston, be reasonable. I can’t force the boy to join our ranks. I can’t force his hand. He must do it on his own, with no pretenses. I can’t—”

“One week,” the man cut in, his voice as cold as steel, “and then we shall take over.”

Cassidy was flabbergasted. He breathed deep, reining in his emotions and swallowed thickly. As calm as he could, he replied, “Yes, Blackston. As you wish,” and hung up the phone quickly before he said something that could quite possibly end his career, and his life, with the secret, but prestigious Latnok society. Cassidy stepped into the cold, sanitized room that was his destination at the start of his conversation with Aaron Blackston and looked around. There was no one here at the moment, all staff members and workers gone for the evening. It was quiet with the gentle whir of machines and the steady beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor off to the corner of the room.

But none of these machines were the dominant, or most important, feature in the room. No, not at all. Cassidy’s eyes were trained on the large tank that rested in front of him and the body that floated within.

“One week,” he muttered to himself and pulled up a chair from one of the workstations beside him. He didn’t bother to check the monitors of the workstation or what those monitors read; he was not, after all, a scientist and wouldn’t know the first thing about the numbers that flashed across the screen or what they would mean. Instead, he pulled the chair as close to the tank as he dared and sat down, his eyes trained intently on the peaceably sleeping face, the relaxed features and expression on the figure within.

“One week,” he repeated to no one in particular. “Who do they think they are, ordering me about like I’m some kind of whipping boy? This takes finesse. This is a very fine game that I’m playing, and I’m playing it to win. So what if my methods aren’t the ones that they themselves would take. Can’t they see? Nothing that they’ve tried worked.”

Cassidy sat back in his chair, watched as the figure’s face furrowed slightly. A separate monitor beeped. Chemicals were pumped into the tank. The face relaxed and the features stilled. Cassidy smirked.

“I could let you out, you know,” he said loudly, the smirk filling his voice. “I could let you ruin everything that they’ve worked hard for, strived to build. You could level it all. They don’t know what you’re capable of, but I do. I’ve read the files on you. I know what they did. I know why they keep you locked inside of this prison.” Cassidy stood, walked about the tank, arms crossed, smirk still firmly in place. “We’re both prisoners. They want Kyle XY, but you’re true culmination of their research, you’re the echelon that they wish to be.”

He leaned over the glass of the tank, unlaced his arms and pressed his hands firmly against the glass. He breathed. The glass fogged up, but the figure inside was still, tranquil, unmoving.

“We’ll play their game,” Cassidy whispered. “We’ll play their game until they’ve used up all their moves, until they’ve played every ill-fated hand in their arsenal. I’ll bring into our ranks, and I’ll show them how foolish they are for trying to tango with me.”

Cassidy stood, pulling his cellphone from his pocket. There was one way to get Kyle to listen to what Latnok had to say, and even though Cassidy detested breaking the laws of the land, he knew that a few rules needed to broken to get the job done. The first time the olde guard had wanted Amanda Bloom kidnapped had been because they’d wanted to have a small audience with their little science experiment; they wanted to get a taste of what Kyle was capable of. Now, Cassidy would do it to force Kyle’s hand, to make him adhere to what the society heads wanted, and if that plan fell through, well…

“They’re not going to take this away from me,” Cassidy murmured to the tank, “And, if this little gamble fails, you’ll be my contingency, and we’ll see what the olde heads’ll think then.”

He flipped open his cell phone and punched in a number. The phone rang for a few moments before the line was picked up. Cassidy heard someone’s light breathing on the other end of the line.

He said, simply, “I need you.” There was no change to the soft breathing on the other end, but a light voice spoke softly, “Understood.”

The line went dead and Cassidy put the phone back into his pocket, eyes fixed on the face, suspended in the tank before him. It was then that he heard it, a faint gasp behind him. He turned with a start, muscles tense and at the ready.

Light glinted off of a pair of thin, wire glasses. Brown eyes widened behind the frames, and Cassidy’s features hardened to a mask of stone.

“Mark,” he whispered in genuine disappointment. “Such a pity.”

The younger man drew back in fear and opened his mouth to scream, but the exclamation of terror never resounded. Cassidy pounced on him, like a seasoned predator, subduing Mark’s flailing, panic-stricken attempts to flee.

“Can’t have you ruining the game before it even gets started,” Cassidy whispered with a silken purr, taking hold of the flailing young man’s neck in a choke hold. The dark gleam in Cassidy’s eyes was the last thing Mark saw before darkness encroach upon his consciousness, grabbing him and dragging him into its depths.