trans_9 | The Lurking Fear

"I'm never playing Medal of Honor or Call of Duty again." At least they could take a brief break there, though the peace would last long. Especially since both Allies and Axis soldiers were taking shots at them.

Overhead, there was the sound of engines. Julian couldn't see the planes, but he figured out what kind they were quickly enough. The tell-tale whistle as they dropped their payload was more than enough to figure it out.

"oh hell..."

Julian would say something snarky about that, but he needed to save his breath for running.

"#$%^ me sideways."

Running is good. He can do running.

The only good news was that the other soldiers were also too busy running to fire on them.

The bombs hit, leveling about half the block, including the church that they were standing against a moment ago. The explosions ended up launching them clear across the street, and a shower of bricks, stone, pavement, and shrapnel rained all over the place.

Julian took a particularly hard landing, crashing against the side of a building. He was in pain, and disoriented. His vision was blurry, though as he looked around, he could make out a few shapes. Mostly a few ruined buildings, but it seemed a few soldiers had also been thrown clear by the bombs. They were getting up slightly faster than he was.

He wasn;t worried about them, though. Or about himself.

"Kon...?" His head was ringing. "Kon!"

It's a funny thing, but Kon isn't worried about himself either.

Soldiers had been thrown clear--American and German. They're both in the same area. They both notice each other.

Julian is right in the middle, in the line of fire, too disoriented to realize what's about to happen.

Kon had been tossed against a house off to the side. Where he is is the safest place to be, it's where he should probably stay, but he doesn't even consider that for a second.

"JULIAN, DOWN!"

Julian is bowled over by a running tackle that could've easily gotten Kon a place on the Smallville football team, even without powers.

The street erupts in gunfire around them as the two groups of soldiers open fire on one another. Both sides are more worried about the people with the guns than them, so no one aims expressly at them, but with the air filled with hot lead, it doesn't really make much of a difference.

Kon screams in Julian's ear. It's a scream of agony.

And then, as quickly as it started, it's over. Both sides have mowed each other down in a blaze of senseless violence. They all fall to the ground, dead.

The tackle didn't exactly help Julian clear the cobwebs in his mind, but the sound of the firefight being over did get him to move.

He started to get up, which is when he noticed it. His hand was covered in blood, but none of it was his own.

No. Nononononononononono.

"Dammit, you're bleeding... Where'd you get hit?"

"Legs," Kon grits out, gasping from the pain.

It's both legs, a bullet wound in the thigh of his right leg, which he was clutching, trying to put pressure on it, and a hole clean through the calf of his left leg.

"Getting shot--freakin' hurts!" he says, as if this is news, but for him, it is. It's the first time he's ever actually been shot.

"Hey, stay frosty, man." Leg wounds were very survivable. Last thing he needed was for Kon to ruin those odds by going into shock.

He grabbed Kon around the chest, and dragged him out of the street, and into what was left of an antique shop. He set Kon against a wall, then rummaged through the place to find something he could use as an antiseptic.

He managed to find some peroxide, but couldn't find anything to dig the one bullet out with. Nor could he find something to clean and dress the wounds with.

...eh, it's not like he needed sleeves anyway.

"Doesn't look like any arterial bleeding, so you should be fine. We just got to get you to a doctor." Which was easier said than done.

"NNNYAAH!" Peroxide stings. Oh fuck does it sting. So does someone binding the wounds. "I think I preferred--being bulletproof--better."

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He'd been taught stuff with this, how to prevent shock. You were supposed to stay calm, talk to them, try to calm them down, try to get them to slow down his heart-rate, keep their adrenaline from spiking all over. He tries to stay calm himself, keep his breathing and heart-beat from going crazy, make sure he gets as much oxygen as he can.

"Blankets," he gasps. "Need to keep warm. Prop up my legs."

They needed to get him stable.

"We have a worse problem than the bleeding. I can't--I don't think I can walk. You need to leave me here. Get help."

The moment the words are out of his mouth, he knows what the response is going to be, but it doesn't matter. He intends to stand his ground on this. Well, maybe "stand" isn't the best word, but he's not weighing his friend down.

"I'm not leaving you here; it's a war zone!" Literally.

The small shop shook a little, kicking up some dust when a mortar shell exploded a block away. Leaving Kon here was a death sentence, and they both knew it.

The idea was entirely out of the question.

Kon grabs him by the collar and yanks him closer. Even without powers, that grip is strong.

"It is a war zone! And you're not gonna be able to get out of it if you're trying to drag me along with you! If you're not carrying me as dead weight, you might be fast enough to bring someone back to help."

He shoves him away.

"So go!"

Julian stumbled backwards, but didn't go far. Even if they weren't friends, Julian wasn't the type to leave people behind.

But they were friends. And Julian had lost too many to even consider this.

He reached forward and grabbed Kon by the shirt. He pulled him to his feet, then shoved him back against the wall.

"You're coming with me," he stated, as if it was an indisputable fact. Which, as far as he was concerned, it was. "The only thing that's up to you is whether or not you're conscious during the trip."

Because if he has to knock you out, Kon, he will.

"Goddamn you!"

It hurts to be on his feet like this, but Julian's holding up most of his weight. He knocks his head back against the wall, as he realizes the futility of arguing here.

"If we're in danger and need to move, you drop me and run. You understand? Don't you dare pull any bullcrap where both of us die when only one of us has to, or I swear to God that I will kick your ass all the way to the afterlife!"

Edited 2010-02-24 04:20 (UTC)

"And don't you try any more of this 'self-sacrificing' stupidity where you get yourself killed when neither one of us needs to die. Because if you do, I will drag you back from the afterlife just to kick your ass."

And now that they were done exchanging 'I love you man's, Julian threw one of Kon's arms over his shoulder. "Now let's go."

The building shakes again, and it's hard--good god, it's hard.

It has him gritting his teeth and biting back screams of pain, it's that hard, walking on his wounded legs. In fact, it's ultimately more like him just being dragged. Sweat pours down his pale face.

"I'm really--not liking this pain thing." He's not used it. I mean, yeah, he's had his body exploding at the cellular level and all, but it's all usually...duller on a regular basis.

"It's nature's way of letting you know that you're not dead yet." And if Julian had to drag him a thousand miles to make sure he remained not dead, he'd do it. Though he had to make a few adjustments in his tactics.

In addition to carrying Kon, Julian was carrying an assault rifle and a sidearm that he picked up off some of the fallen soldiers. He normally wouldn't even consider the option, but with no TK to defend them with, he needed something.

It turned out to be a smart decision. It helped get them out of a few tight spots, though they still spent more time ducking fights then charging into them.

After a few hours, though, they needed a break. They took shelter in what was someone's cottage. There wasn't much in the way of food there, but it was better than nothing. They were also safely out of sight.

"A year ago, I would've never considered picking up a gun," he confessed randomly, while leaning back in a chair.

"Well one, a year ago--you probably had powers. Two, it's just dreams. Three, it's kinda good--" says Kon, somewhat breathlessly. "--that you did now--'cause I don't think I'd ever be able to shoot somebody. Even with this, I'd be freaked--it'd turn out to be a real person somehow."

They didn't kill.

It had helped them get out of some tight spots, and he certainly wouldn't judge Hellion for it even if it wasn't dreams, but it isn't him. It isn't who he is.

He's pale and sweating where he lays shivering under the few blankets they'd scrounged up in the cottage. He really isn't looking good, but then ripped off sleeves and peroxide really aren't a good alternative to real antiseptic, prophylactic antibiotics, surgery, and donor blood--they're just a good alternative to death.

Edited 2010-02-24 09:40 (UTC)

Julian shook his head. "It's the principle of the thing. I keep having to sacrifice something to survive."

He didn't have time to dwell on that, though. If Kon didn't get treated soon...

"We have to get moving again."

Kon looks over at him.

"In this case--it's not just you you're keeping alive."

He closes his eyes in pain as he tries to get himself up to a sit.

"I know what it means. I also know--that if you weren't lugging me along--you might have been able to sneak around--and not need it."

Kon leans his head back against the wall, trying to mentally prepare himself for the pain and struggle ahead.

"Sometimes...we make compromises."

Like launching the psychopathic, remorseless nutcase of an enemy that killed your girlfriend into space at like mach one million, since it won't kill her anyway, so she never hurts anyone else again. Because you know--you absolutely know with all your heart and soul that she will kill again, she'll mistreat people, she'll cause pain...

"I kinda think--what matters most isn't that we make 'em...it's why."

Edited 2010-02-24 10:02 (UTC)

And why did he have a gun? Because if he didn't, he and Kon would be dead right now.

It all came down to making sure the people you cared about survived. Is that all being an X-Man meant anymore?

H'd ponder that later. Right now, they did have to go. Only this time, he didn't drag Kon. The guy could barely stand at all, so Julian had to carry him on his back. It made things difficult, but he wasn't going to leave Kon to die.

~~Though if Kon said one more thing about piggyback rides, Julian might reconsider.~~

There were still a handful of skirmishes that they squeaked by, and shells that they had to dodge. Julian's injuries were starting to pile up, cuts, gashes, bruises, and flesh wounds that made each step harder than the last, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Fortunately, they seemed to be reached the edge of the battle. A theory that was confirmed when Julian saw something he never thought he'd ever be happy to see:

The living, breathing, pulsing walls of Stacy.

"Dude, dude! Do you see that up there?" Tell him he's not imagining it.

He can barely open his eyes anymore.

"Never thought I'd be happy to--see the inside of someone's nostril, but yeah. I see it."

But it isn't going to be easy. It's never easy.

"Schnell! Schnell!" Gunfire starts pelting around them, and there's no way in hell they're going to make it in a straight run. If they have any chance at all, Julian's going to have to take out the soldiers firing at them. Fortunately, there's the rusted out hulk of a mortared tank that Julian can prop Kon behind, and plenty of barricades he can use to hide behind.

"Put me down--so you can fight!"

They were almost there. Just past this bunch and they'd be home free.

Julian didn't respond verbally to Kon, but he did set him down behind the tank. He went forward, and for about the next ten minutes, there was nothing but the sound of continued gunfire, mixed with the occasional soldier barking an order.

Then it all stopped.

There was this cold, eerie silence. It seemed to stretch on into forever, but was eventually shattered by a shout.

"KON!"

Julian won. Despite being outnumbered and out gunned he won. Largely through determination, creativity, and remarkably good marksmanship. He may not have had his tk, but the innate sense of space and distance that came with it still remained.

But it was over now.

"WE'RE HOME FREE!" Julian laughed, and did a brief dance in the street. He even pumped his fist in the air a few times as he headed back, as if to say 'screw you fate'. He won this round.

Yes!

Kon crawls halfway out from behind the tank.

"Then get your sorry butt over her so you can carry my sorry butt out of here, 'cause I'm tired of--"

Whatever he's tired of, he doesn't get the chance to say. The stray mortar round cuts it off, and likely blows Hellion right off his feet.

Julian didn't hear the shell coming until it was too late, and he did get knocked off of his feet. A few chunks of shrapnel got embedded in his arm, but those suddenly became a much lower priority as he realized something very simple.

Kon had been a lot close to that explosion than Julian had been. He forced himself to get up, stumbling a few times at first while he equilibrium recovered.

Be alright, Kon. You better be alright.

It's quiet. Then again, it might be difficult for Hellion to hear anything since his ears are most likely still ringing. There's just the crackle of a few small fires still burning and the pinging of the tank wreckage, which had been blasted with heat and thus now the metal is making noises as it cools.

Those are the only sounds other than the gurgling. "Gurgling" is really the only word that can be used for it, because it's too wet for "choking" and not forceful enough for "coughing."

There's a blackened spot where the mortar hit, and thrown clear, right at the edge, is Kon.

It's Kon that's the source of the gurgling. What's responsible is likely the shrapnel sticking out of his chest, but while it's causing him to choke on his own blood, that might not necessarily be what kills him. The left leg, broken and shredded at the knee, held to his body with only a dangling bit of tissue, might do it. The missing left hand might do it too--all that's left is a burned stump. Then again, what does him in might be the burns well over half his body and face, the blackened skin, with red lines showing at the cracks.

His one eyes is burned, and his vision is going dark. He can't see.

He coughs up some blood, enough to speak almost clearly and slurs out, "Keller? Keller--gckkt--Keller, don't be dead. Keller?"

He's dying. Falling apart. In agony.

...And what he's most worried about is that his friend survived the blast.

When Julian saw Kon, had no words. For a moment, it felt as if someone had punched a hole through his intestines. He even fell to his knees, that shocked by this abrupt twist of fate.

It was only Kon's attempt to talk that snapped him out of this state partially. Somewhere, in the back of his head, he noted that even as being damn near a corpse, Kon still couldn't shut up.

The thought actually made him smile weakly, even if all he wanted to do was break down into tears.

"Yeah, I'm here..."

The Lurking Fear - Group 14

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