Crash (3/3) - Bandom, NC-17, Mikey/Frank

[cho_malfoy]

part two | master post

It had been a long time since Mikey woke up cuddling with anyone.

In fact, the last person had been Alicia before she'd left for Los Angeles. He had a shitty track record with assistants. But they'd had very clear boundaries: they worked when they worked, and they were fuck buddies on their off-time, and that was it. Maybe Mikey had wanted more, once upon a time, but he and Gerard had a closed office they didn't let anyone into, and more meant telling her about Eyes Only. He couldn't do that to Gerard. Not unless he was sure.

Mikey watched Frank curl against his shoulder.

He definitely wasn't Alicia. For one, Frank was in deep with Manticore. Or something. Maybe he was even one of their...no, Mikey couldn't even think it. It made Frank sound like a thing, when he was very much a Frank.

And that was the second difference. If Mikey had been with Alicia, it would've been the sort of thing that grew over time. But watching Frank smile in his sleep made his stomach turn over and his heart tap dance and all that shit. He hadn't felt like this since he'd slept with Pete the first time.

Mikey brushed his fingers over Frank's neck, tracing the lines of the scorpion and working his way back to the bar code. It was all smooth. He didn't have any tattoos, but he loved seeing them on other people.

Frank sighed quietly and leaned closer. Mikey slung his arm around him.

The Eyes Only crap had killed what he'd had with Pete. It had sucked at the time, but Pete was a cop, and stumbling across the same crime scenes together had been fucking stupid. The breakup hadn't been pretty. But at least their working relationship was good now. And Frank wasn't Pete.

No. Frank made Pete look downright stable and safe.

Frank's phone went off. Mikey shook his shoulder.

"Hey," he said. "You want me to get that?"

Frank's eyes opened. He yawned. "Nah, I've got it."

Mikey got up for the bathroom, scratching his stomach. He needed a shower pretty bad. It didn't sound like Ray was around, so he could probably get away with jumping in. After he took a leak, of course.

But as he flushed the toilet, he heard Frank stumbling out of bed.

"Where are you?" Frank was outside of the room, pulling on his pants. "Okay. Yeah. Five minutes."

Mikey stuck his head out. "Something up?"

"Yeah, I just...I have to meet someone."

Before Mikey could ask if everything was okay, Frank was out the door. He didn't even close it behind him.

-

Frank didn't take out his bike: it was evening, and the streets were almost completely deserted. If what Dallon had said was true, he didn't have to go far.

He was only a block away from his place when he saw the blood on the ground. When he followed it, he found Dallon huddled next to a chain link fence.

"Fuck," Frank said. He reached out, but Dallon brushed his hands away.

"I had to warn you," he said.

"We should get you somewhere."

Dallon shook his head. "No time. They're culling. Moving."

Frank sucked in a breath.

"I tried to get Brendon and Spencer out," Dallon said. He drew his hand away from his stomach. His hand was covered in red. "They found me."

"How long?"

Dallon swallowed. "Two days. If they don't move it up."

"Are they..."

"Alive?" Dallon nodded. "They're hiding in the basement. That should buy them time; they work their way down."

Yeah. Because the Nomalies were down there. But Brendon and Spencer knew better than to go poking their heads in cages with snake men...or Spencer did, anyway.

"Thanks, man." Frank meant it. "Good luck."

"You too."

Frank pulled out his phone as he ran back to his place. They didn't have much time.

-

Mikey felt weird about sitting around Frank's place. He decided to risk going home.

Gerard was sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee and a goofy look on his face. He looked up at Mikey walking in, and it got even goofier.

"Someone got laid," Gerard said.

Mikey rubbed his hair. It always got ridiculous when he hooked up. "Look who's talking."

Gerard laughed. "Yeah."

"Is he asleep?" Mikey climbed on the couch next to Gerard.

Gerard slung his arm over Mikey. "Nah, he just ran out the door five minutes ago. Said he got called into work."

"Huh." Of course. If Frank was being weird, it stood to reason that Ray would be, too. "Listen, do you think-"

But his question was forestalled when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, and Gerard nudged him.

"It's Frank," he said.

Mikey gave him the finger and answered the phone. "Hey."

"Hey." A car horn went off, and there was a whooshing sound, like wind. "Um, I have to blow out of town for a couple days."

"Oh. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just..." There was a clatter. "Sorry, I've got my phone in my helmet."

"What? Was it the phone call?"

"I can't really talk about it."

Mikey climbed off the couch and jogged into the hallway by his bedroom. This was not the time for the conversation. He knew it.

But he asked anyway. "Does it have to do with Manticore?"

There was a screech, and something that sounded vaguely like Ray shouting.

"What the fuck do you know about Manticore?" Frank asked, low and deadly.

"More than you probably think," Mikey said. Maybe it was a little bit of a bluff, but whatever. "I can help you."

But the phone cut off.

"Everything okay?" Gerard called out from the living room.

Mikey dialed Frank again. He didn't pick up.

Gerard came walking down the hall. "Mikey?"

"How much do you know about Ray?" Mikey asked.

Gerard shrugged. "Enough."

"So you know he's in with Manticore?"

"I...what?"

Mikey sighed. He was going to need a lot of coffee.

-

The five hours to Manticore were long.

There wasn't anything to see on the way: most of the towns around Seattle had been abandoned post-Pulse, and crumbling buildings all looked the same. And it didn't help that Frank was still, technically, in heat. He could function normally, but his skin still itched uncomfortably, and Ray sitting behind him with his arms around his waist didn't help.

They only stopped once on the way to fuel. Neither of them wanted to - Ray bounced nearly as much as Frank - but it wasn't like they could walk to Manticore. Frank didn't know the name of the town, but no one was up in the middle of the night, and the pumps ran off old-fashioned debit cards, just like the nice stations in Seattle.

He popped a couple of the pills as soon as the bike was off. The last thing he needed was to relapse in the middle of the rescue.

"Did you talk to Mikey?" Ray asked once he had his head out of the helmet.

Frank nodded.

"How is he?"

How's Gerard, more like. "Don't know. It doesn't matter."

"Huh?"

Frank tightened his bike gloves. "He knows something about Manticore."

Ray paled. "But that means..."

"Yeah." If Mikey knew, Gerard knew. And that meant they couldn't see either of them ever again. It was too dangerous. "So what do you think? LA? Tijuana?"

Normally, Ray would joke about Alaska or something. But he slumped against the gas pump, and Frank felt a pang. Fuck. He couldn't remember the last time Ray had let himself get really into someone.

"We could ask," Ray said quietly. "If they wanted to come."

"They?"

Ray fixed Frank with a level look.

"Okay, something happened," Frank said. "But it didn't mean anything. He's my boss."

"Because that's stopped you in the past?"

"Whatever. Bryar's a stand-up dude."

"So's Mikey."

"He's hiding something," Frank said. He pulled the pump out of his bike.

"So are you."

"I have a good fucking reason, in case you forgot."

"Maybe he does, too."

Frank rolled his eyes and climbed back on the bike. "Next thing you'll say he's Eyes Only."

He tried not to think too much about it when they got back on the road. After all, Ray just wanted an excuse to stay in contact with Gerard. And Frank couldn't blame him; he deserved a little happiness. But things never worked out that way.

Even if Frank really wanted them to.

On the plus side, thinking about the way Mikey smelled made the last part of the trip a lot faster. It felt like the blink of an eye before Frank started spotting the trespassing signs that marked the edges of Manticore's boundaries.

Sneaking in was easier than sneaking out. Manticore installed chips in all their X series soldiers, and Frank had dug his out with a knife and his fingers. He and Ray had bled the entire way out. Five years hadn't changed the paths, either. The forest was a little more overgrown, but they didn't have too many problems making their way through. The searchlights on the guard towers passed them by like they weren't even there.

The basement even smelled the same: a combination of rotting fish and metal and general mustiness. Maybe his and Ray's footsteps sounded a lot fucking louder than before, but then, he was on edge.

"Where do you think they are?" Ray muttered.

"No idea," Frank said. "Guess we'll have to look."

They slipped down the row of cells.

The first had an amphibious creature: it sat crouched in a kiddie pool of water, and hissed when Frank went on his tiptoes to see into the window in the cell's door. The second cell was too dark to see into, but judging by the growls that came from inside, they weren't there. The third...

"Frank!"

Spencer jumped to his feet and ran to the door. He was taller than Frank remembered; he didn't have any problems getting to the window. He was also lean. Like he hadn't eaten in a while.

"Fuck," Frank said. "Are you two okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let me get Brendon."

He slipped away, and Frank heard muttering. From what sounded like two different voices.

"They found a pet," Frank whispered to Ray. "Fucking knew it."

"Let's just hope it isn't poisonous," Ray said. He sounded a little nervous.

The door swung open with a creak, and Brendon bounced out and wrapped his arms around Frank. "You're not dead!"

"Really not," Frank said. "We need to go."

Brendon pulled back and grabbed a hand. "Ian, come on. It's okay."

He drew out a guy. Well, he looked almost entirely like a guy, anyway, except his curly hair poofed in a weird way, and his face was a little...

"You're bringing a dog home?" Frank asked. It was so Brendon.

The dog man huffed and wiped at his nose. It wasn't black, but it was shaped in a rather canine way. "My name's Ian, thank you very much."

Brendon scratched him behind his ear, and Ian leaned into the touch, tongue out.

"Whatever you say," Ray said. "Let's go."

Frank wasn't surprised that Brendon and Spencer were stealthy on their way out. He was a little surprised that Ian was just as quiet. Just before the window they'd used to get in earlier, Ian paused. "We can't leave them."

"Leave who?"

Ian waved at the cells. "They'll die."

Brendon's eyes got comically big. "He's right."

Frank sighed. "I don't suppose asking if you'll just get out will do any good?"

Spencer crossed his arms. "I'm with them on this one. All the transgens get what's going on, but these guys?"

If Spencer wasn't budging, Frank didn't have a chance. "Whatever. You guys go. I'll go find a switch."

He helped Ray boost them out the window.

"I should go with you," Ray said.

"No," Frank said. "They'll have a better chance with you."

"Frank-"

"That's an order," Frank said, like it wouldn't piss Ray off. He sprinted away, just pausing long enough to make sure Ray pulled himself out the window.

Of course, there's wasn't any kind of release on the basement floor. Frank had snuck in enough to know that much. He just hoped the place he suspected on the ground floor was the right spot.

He ran up the stairs one level, and an alarm blared. Frank froze with his hand on the door to subbasement one.

"Come on," he whispered. "Me. Let it be me."

Footsteps stomped his way. He backed away from the door and balled his fists.

But they kept running.

"Shit," Frank said. If they'd tripped the alarms, it was a good thing Frank was doing this. They'd need a distraction.

He ran out into the hall and across to the other set of stairs. The alarms flashed, and the emergency lights were on, so the hallways were bathed in red. Looked fucking spooky, but it preserved his night vision, so Frank wasn't complaining. He'd be able to see perfectly when he got outside again.

The ground floor was different than Frank remembered. They'd closed off a lot of the open areas, which had been used for cubicles and offices, and replaced them with what looked like more cells. Which didn't make much sense. They wouldn't expand just to have to burn the whole thing to the ground.

He ran around in circles for longer than he meant. He heard someone running for him, and he ducked into a slightly open door.

"Frank?" someone whispered. "That you?"

"Toro?"

Ray appeared. "You're hard to find."

"What the fuck!" Frank pulled him close by his shirt. "What about the others?"

"I showed them where the bike was. And I told them if we weren't back in a half-hour, to drive for Seattle."

"Who the fuck are they gonna know in Seattle?"

But a fresh round of alarms broke their conversation.

"Let's go," Ray said, "before we get caught."

Frank sighed, but he ran out, and Ray ran close on his heels.

They found the switches in the middle of the hall. Frank missed it before because the door was shadowy. Of course it was guarded, but if there was one thing Frank was good at, it was punching Manticore guards. He saw two uniforms and took them out quickly.

As he dragged one of the guards with off the console, he told Ray, "Hit the switches."

"Not so fast."

The click of guns was hard to ignore. And maybe, if Frank had been by himself, he would've hit the switches anyway. But Ray stood next to him, and he wouldn't get him killed. Even if he kind of asked for it by coming back.

With a sigh, Frank raised his hands and turned.

A man with a short military haircut and black clothes waved hello. The dozen guards behind him, with guns pointed forward, didn't.

"Welcome back," the man said.

-

When Mikey told Gerard all the facts he had, he expected Gerard to go straight to the computer and research his ass off.

He was mostly right. Gerard only stopped for coffee.

Mikey wasn't much for pouring over files; it was why he did all the meetings. But he got on the phone with Pete after a full night without progress and asked vaguely, "Say I had names of people connected to Manticore. What would I need to find out more about them?"

"You do?"

"Maybe."

Pete huffed. "Patrick's gonna kill me if I don't grill you."

"Why?" Mikey asked. "You did your part."

"Because he wants to be in on it. And I do too."

"I'll tell you what I can. I don't have anything right now."

"I'll take your word for it." Pete sighed. "I'll message you with our latest batch. Don't tell Patrick until you've got something."

"Scout's honor."

Gerard lit up when his computer blinked with the files. "Whoa. These are the old Social Security records. I didn't know these still existed."

He was still bouncing in his chair when the doorbell rang. Mikey and Gerard froze.

"He didn't call you, did he?" Mikey asked.

Gerard checked his phone. "No. You?"

"No." Mikey got up. "Stay here. And get the gun."

"Mikey-"

"Seriously. Be ready."

Gerard sighed and reached in a pile of what looked like molding paper plates. It was the one pile of trash in the office that was a complete plant. He drew out a pistol and a magazine.

"You should take this," Gerard said, popping the magazine in.

Mikey decided not to tell him that it would do little good if he was ambushed outside the office and just left.

The doorbell rang again, hard. Then three more times, in a weird rhythm. As Mikey approached, he heard voices outside. He took a breath and opened the door.

Three guys stood outside. One of them had his face turned away and a hood up. One was glaring at the guy in the middle, who was saying, "It's fun. And I'm not on a covert mission, so-"

"Uh," Mikey said. "Hi."

The guy in the middle turned and beamed. "Hi! Are you Mikey or Gerard?"

"Mikey. Who are you?"

"Brendon. But you don't know me."

Mikey nodded. "Figured that much."

"Ray told me to say I'm from Manticore." Brendon poked his head inside. "Do you have a bathroom? Ian kept trying to mark trees on the way."

The hooded guy turned, and Mikey saw what looked like...well, he wasn't sure what he looked like. A human with a dog face, maybe.

"Liar," he said. "You just have to pee, and you're pinning it on me."

Mikey blinked.

-

Short Hair Man - who went by the ultra-original Smith - started Frank off with a visit to the medical ward. Frank struggled, of course, but in Manticore, there were always assholes stronger than you. And when there weren't, they had drugs. Frank hadn't even seen a needle, but judging by the way his eyes went blurry and his tongue felt thick, they'd dosed him.

"How are you not dead right now?" Smith asked. "Did Dr. Weekes find a cure?"

Frank couldn't talk. He sneered instead. He was pretty good at sneering.

"Interesting. Well, take it out of him."

Luckily, he passed out when they pulled out the tray of needles. It was something he didn't want to be awake for.

Being thrown into a cell woke him up again. Not fast enough to keep from face planting into the concrete, but the jar of pain through his still-broken nose was nice. Bracing.

"Ow," he said loudly as they closed the door.

"Who's there?"

Frank blinked. "Uh. Frank?"

"You have a name?"

Frank dropped down to a vent on the floor. He didn't remember the cells having vents, but then, things had changed.

He never would've been grouped next to a woman before.

"Picked it out myself," Frank said. "Who are you?"

"X5-829." She was fucking cute, too: black hair, slightly goofy smile. "But I was thinking Jamia'd be a fun name."

"I like it."

"It's no Frank."

Frank snorted. "I found it in a phone book. Fun names aren't for people on the lam."

"Oh." Her eyes went wide. "You're one of the ones that got out."

"That's me." He looked around the room. There was a grate on the other side, and he ducked to peek through. But there wasn't anyone on the other side. "What are these for, anyway?"

"People who fucked up." Jamia grinned. "I refused to go on a mission. They didn't like it."

"Nice."

"Thanks."

"I don't suppose there's anyone on your other side?" It'd be nice if Ray was nearby.

Jamia shook her head. "I've been surrounded by empty cells for weeks. I know they've been filling up more, though. X5-999 and X5-998 have been making all kinds of problems."

Frank grinned. When Brendon and Spencer had said they wanted to stay, he hadn't thought it was a good idea. But apparently, they'd stirred more shit than he'd thought.

"So if I said I wanted to break everyone out," he said, "would you have any ideas there?"

Jamia laughed. "Way ahead of you."

-

Mikey didn't know Brendon, Spencer, or Ian, but he figured out one thing fast: having Brendon in the same room with Gerard was going to be painful. He let the two of them babble at each other and led Spencer into his bedroom. Ian followed.

"I don't have much to add," Ian said. "They were just giving me a headache."

He curled up on the bed while Spencer paced and filled Mikey in. Spencer wasn't as wordy as Brendon, but he got the basics across: Manticore was a government organization, and they specialized in super-soldiers made from a bunch of different types of DNA.

"We've got a lot of cat," Spencer said. "I don't know the specifics, but they wanted us to look human. Ian's an early model."

Ian scratched at his ear in his sleep.

"So that's why you have the bar code tattoo?"

Spencer touched the back of his neck. "It's an identification thing. And if we try to get rid of it, it'll just come back when our skin heals."

He showed Mikey. There was long-faded scar tissue on his neck, but the bar code was there, perfectly whole.

"Whoa," Mikey said.

Spencer nodded. "Ray said we could trust you. That true?"

Ray said. And Brendon had said mentioned Ray when they'd first shown up. "It's true. What happened at Manticore?"

"They went to get us out," Spencer said. "Because we heard they were culling the place."

Mikey frowned. "As in..."

"Burning it all down? Yeah."

"How far's Manticore from here?"

Spencer looked up briefly, like he was doing mental math. Then he said, "Five point six two hours, with the level of traffic we encountered."

"Something like that should've come up on the news alerts," Mikey said. "Any chance they moved first?"

Spencer shrugged. Mikey sighed.

The door opened, and Brendon and Gerard walked in.

"It's okay!" Brendon told Spencer. "We won't have to beat them up. Gerard's in love with Ray."

"And Mikey's in love with Frank," Gerard added. Mikey smacked his arm.

Spencer groaned. "This is why we never got sent on missions. You don't know how to keep your mouth shut."

"Like you wanted to play evil spy." Brendon waggled his eyebrows.

Spencer gave Mikey an apologetic look. "I was only going to fight you if you tried to turn us in."

"No worries," Mikey said. "I've been beat up for less."

"So!" Gerard rubbed his hands together. "Who feels like going for a drive?"

Mikey gaped at him. "You...want to leave the house."

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Call Pete and Patrick. We'll need all the firepower we can get."

Brendon clapped his hands once.

Mikey needed more coffee.

-

It turned out Jamia already had a plan: come up with something distracting to draw the guards away, bust the doors, run for the switches on the second floor - since they'd be expecting Frank to hit the first floor circuit again - and get out.

"Sounds too easy," Frank said.

"It isn't," Jamia said. "We don't have a distraction."

Which was, of course, the minute sirens flashed and the building switched to emergency lighting.

Frank laughed as boots stomped in the hallway. "You were saying?"

She darted away from the vent, and Frank jumped to his feet. His cell had nothing in it, and the door was too thick to kick down. He tried a couple times anyway, but he barely dented the inside. It sounded like Jamia was having more luck on her side, at least; he heard metal thumps, followed by gunfire and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Then nothing.

"Jamia?"

His door clanked open. Jamia dropped the passkey she was holding and waggled her fingers. She was just as cute when he could see her entirely, even in the godawful Manticore uniform. Formless jump suits in camo didn't work for anyone.

"You're good," Frank said, climbing over a couple unconscious guards in the hall. "How'd you get out of your cell?"

"They gave me a bed a couple days ago. Good behavior." She snorted. "Let's get going."

Frank held up a finger. Then he shouted, "Toro!"

No one answered.

"What's Toro?" Jamia said, frowning.

"We came up with last names, too," Frank said. "Mine's Iero. Toro's my friend."

Her eyes grew wide. "Ooh. I never thought of a last name."

"You've got time. Come on."

They ran around the nearest corner; the quickest way to the second floor was to cross the courtyard and go up the stairs there. But Frank flattened against the wall as a stream of guards thundered out the doors he had in mind, and Jamia pointed the opposite direction. He nodded, and they ran.

The only way up to the second floor on this side was by fire escape. Frank didn't mind - it was the way he used to get around the place, when he was a kid - but Jamia eyed them dubiously.

"Are you kidding?" she whispered.

Frank jumped up and grabbed the ladder. It clanked down noisily, but at the same time as an automatic weapon fired in the courtyard.

"Nope!" he said, as she climbed up.

Frank had to walk down a line of windows until he found one unlocked. Jamia followed, going on tiptoes to try to see in the courtyard.

"What's going on out there?" she asked. "It doesn't sound like an escape."

"I don't know," Frank said. "But this'll make things more interesting."

They climbed inside.

A couple of guards had broken windows on the other side, sticking their guns out. Jamia ignored them, but Frank ran up and put one in a choke hold. The other turned to fire, but Frank moved out of the way easily and knocked him out with a couple of blows to the head.

"Yeah," Jamia said when Frank caught up. "Because that helps."

Frank shrugged. "I'd rather not have guards behind us if I can help it."

The control room was empty this time. Frank took a quick look at the security cameras; guards were moving out of the courtyard and to a field behind the complex. He couldn't see what drew their fire.

Jamia inspected all the buttons. "Let's see...floodlights, let's hit that one."

The outdoor cameras fell dark and switched to night vision. It wasn't very good; the technology was a decade old, at least. But Frank figured he didn't need to see outside right now.

"Locks? Okay."

Frank heard a lot of hisses and clunking, most of it downstairs, followed by a lot of chatter.

"And microphone!" Jamia picked up a discarded headset. "Good evening, Manticore! If you'd like to exit the premises at this time, now's your chance. There's armed guards all over the place. Have fun!"

She clicked it off and dropped the headset with a flourish. "I have to break out more often!"

"Let's hope not," Frank said, but he snickered. "Now I need to find my friend."

"You want help?"

"Seriously?"

Jamia shrugged. "The next item on my to-do list is 'get the fuck out of here'. I can help you on the way."

"It's probably better if I sneak around," Frank said, "but thanks."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Look me up when you get back to Seattle?"

"But you don't have a last name."

"Maybe I'll use Iero," she said.

Frank grinned, and they ran out in separate directions.

He went for the fire escape right away; he figured the halls would be choked, and if he got a high view of things, maybe he could spot Ray from a distance. It was a totally solid plan.

Except, when he hit the roof, he found it already occupied.

"X5-776," Smith said, raising a pistol. "Good to see you again."

Frank crouched on the balls of his feet. He was about ready to spring into action when other guns clicked, and a dozen guards came out from around the vents and the roof access door.

"You too," he said, and he ran for the edge of the roof.

He felt bullets explode around his feet as he jumped straight off the roof. He twisted in midair and grabbed the fire escape, gritting his teeth as the metal cut open his palms. It was better than falling six stories and breaking something, but not by a lot.

His movement stopped when he hit the fourth floor. He hissed as he let go of the fire escape and jumped through a window. The bullets they were firing off the room were bouncing off the metal, and glass in his skin was better than bullets in his head.

Fuck. He was having a day.

Frank rolled on the inside of the room and got up into a run again. Medical was on the fourth floor, but there wasn't anyone around; there were tools scattered everywhere, so it looked like there had been a struggle. Maybe the staff had cut and run, too.

He ran past a refrigerator with a clear door in the front. At the front sat vials with his designation on it: X5-776. Filled with his blood.

"Fucking vampires," he muttered. Take the cure out of him. They couldn't have gotten much yet, but he yanked open the door and dumped every drop into the sink. He blasted the water in the sink and ran to the other side of the building.

He made it to the stairs this time. The courtyard was mostly empty again, except for a couple of dead guards. Oh, and what looked like a part-bat person running across, with wings and everything. Man-Bat. Mikey would've flipped.

Mikey. Fuck.

"Think," Frank muttered as he jogged down the stairwell. "Where would Ray be?"

Looking for Frank, most likely. If it wouldn't end in target practice, he'd go stand somewhere highly visible for a few minutes. But he couldn't really stay still, and Ray wasn't in the cells he'd been stuck in, so...

"Bad idea," Frank said, but he went to ground level and pushed out in the courtyard.

Unfortunately, in the few seconds it had taken him to come to a decision, Smith had made his way down. With all the guards. They circled him.

"I'd rather not kill you," Smith said. "Your adjusted healing'll be very useful to our X7 series."

"You're making more?" Leave it to the military to keep up hopeless causes.

"That's the nature of evolution. Can't stop." Smith gave a smile that Frank figured was supposed to pleasant, but it just looked fucking creepy. "Come quietly?"

"Fuck that," Frank said.

Smith sighed and raised his gun. "I figured as much."

He fired.

Frank was a lot of things, but faster than a speeding bullet? Not one of them. He managed to avoid taking the slug to the chest, but it caught him in the shoulder, and he went down.

Smith stood over him. If he just stepped a little closer, Frank could get him in the ankle or something. Really make it hurt.

"Take him," Smith said. Oh yeah. He was definitely going to bleed.

"Drop it!"

Frank looked up.

The roofs were filled with people. People with guns. Most of them wore the shitty Manticore uniform, but there was a clump in the middle that Frank recognized: Jamia and Ray, both with AK-47s, Brendon and Spencer with shotguns, and Mikey and Gerard, both with two pistols.

"I found your friend!" Jamia called with a wave.

-

Frank was bleeding on the ground.

"Don't shoot," Ray said quickly, once he saw Mikey's face.

"Mikey!" Frank waved his good hand, which was covered with blood. "Ditching work again?"

The Manticore soldiers didn't drop their guns. It didn't surprise Mikey at all. But it still sucked.

"Here's what I figure!" the leader called. "I can kill X5-776 seconds before you kill us."

"You'll still be dead," Ray said back. At the corner of his eye, Mikey could see a goofy smile spread on Gerard's face.

"Hazard of the job," the man said.

"Shoot the motherfucker!" Frank yelled with a conversational tone. He shifted and grimaced. Mikey aimed his pistol right between the leader's eyes.

"He's right," Ray said, quietly enough so they wouldn't hear it lower, but loud enough so it'd reach Mikey and Gerard. "They're probably waiting for air support or backup. Stalling's just giving them the advantage."

Mikey jerked his head. "Get the others out. I won't leave Frank."

"There's a truck depot on the north side." This came from Jamia, who'd kindly supplied everyone with the guns. "Maybe you guys can catch up?"

"Good idea," Ray said.

Jamia waved her hand to the others, and they withdrew. Mikey turned to his other side, where Pete and Patrick had their guns trained.

"Go with her," Mikey said.

"But you'll be outnumbered," Patrick said, his hat covering his eyes.

"We can manage. None of them have been to Seattle before."

Pete walked backward. "I've always wanted to play babysitter for super soldiers."

They went out the door to the stairs, and only Mikey, Gerard, Ray, Brendon, and Spencer were left behind.

"Dude, Hat Guy was totally right," Brendon said. The shotgun looked ridiculously too big for him, but his arms were perfectly solid. "We're totally outnumbered now."

"I've got this." Ray cleared his throat. "We're sending down some friends. If you leave before they get there, we won't follow you."

"Nice," Mikey said quietly.

"Thanks," Ray said.

The guards all pointed their guns up. The only person who still had a gun trained on Frank was the leader.

"I think I'll take my chances," he said.

But apparently, it's all Frank needed. He moved too fast for Mikey to see, and his breath caught. Gerard gasped beside him, too.

"It's so cool," he said.

"Yeah," Mikey agreed.

Ray snorted. "You guys are such nerds."

The guards opened fire, and Mikey ducked behind the edge of the roof. So did everyone else, but Ray eased up to see over the edge seconds later and pointed his gun. He fired for a couple seconds, then took his finger off the trigger and hid again.

The gunfire got quieter and quieter, until there was yelling, the sounds of punching, a snap, and a gunshot. Ray jumped up quickly, then smiled.

"Took you long enough!" he yelled.

Mikey looked up. Frank was ringed by bodies, and Mikey couldn't tell if most of them were dead or not. The leader was definitely dead; he had a wound on his neck, probably from a wrestled gun, and a pool of blood under him. Although the pool could've come from Frank. He was pale and shaking a little.

"I'm getting slow in my old age," Frank called up. "Can we get out of here?"

-

Ray pulled the bullet out of Frank's shoulder with a knife the second the military transport was on the road. It was shaky, and Ray slipped a couple times, but Frank managed by biting on the fleshy part of his hand.

"We did something a lot like this the first time we left," he said cheerfully when Ray tied up his shoulder with Brendon's shirt. Mikey stared, pale as a ghost. Gerard had his hands over his face. "Didn't have anything to wrap my arm with, though."

"Hold on," Brendon said, staring at a too-big watch on his wrist.

Frank grabbed his seat as an explosion rocked behind them. The night flared with fire.

"Fucking awesome!" he said.

Brendon beamed. "I stocked up."

"We've got company!" Jamia called from the front.

"Ooh," Brendon said. He grabbed his shotgun and climbed over the other X5s for the back of the transport. "Time for cover fire!"

Spencer groaned and grabbed his gun. "You're going to get us killed, jerk!"

Frank leaned on Mikey. "Ever heard a shotgun in close quarters?"

"No."

"Plug your ears."

Mikey did. So did Gerard and everyone else, just in time for Brendon to fire a shot and cackle.

"Kid's a menace," Frank said, lowering his good hand. "So. You guys have any lucky finding the Nomalies?"

Ray shook his head. "They were long gone, I guess."

"Nomalies?" Gerard asked.

"Anomalies, I guess," Frank said, rolling his neck. "Plug your ears again."

This time, both Brendon and Spencer fired. Frank's ears rung a little. At least they'd heal once he got a few minutes of quiet.

"They're...well, you met Ian," Ray said. He wiped his hands free of blood with pieces of Brendon's shirt. "That's why you're here, right?"

Gerard wrapped his fingers in Ray's. "That's how we knew where you were, yeah."

Frank glanced at Mikey. They needed to have words about that. But really, he was too glad to see him to screw it up right now.

"Don't worry." Pete, Mikey's cop friend, leaned over. "I radioed descriptions to the police department before we left Seattle. There are people who know not to gun them down."

"How many?" Frank asked.

"Not many," Patrick admitted. "But if we get your fellows trained up, they can help out."

Frank had heard worse ideas. After all, smart, agile, and young super soldiers had to have something to occupy their time.

"Shit," he said, looking at all the X5s. Some of them watched Brendon and Spencer with eager expressions; others were dozing on each other. "Where are they gonna go?"

"The building we're squatting in's mostly empty," Ray said.

Frank groaned. "You really want them as neighbors?"

"And it's illegal," Gerard said, eyes wide.

"It should buy you a couple days to get fake identity documents through." This came from Patrick, Mikey's other cop friend. "That's what you guys have, right?"

"Something like that," Ray said with a nod.

"Fuck," Frank said. "We have to move, don't we?"

Brendon fired again. Everyone winced, but Brendon let out a whoop.

"They're pulling back!" he said.

"I don't want to move." Frank would've crossed his arms if his left one wasn't out of commission.

Ray rolled his eyes. "Out of a place without four walls and crappy plumbing? How will we ever live."

-

It was just before dawn when they made it back to Seattle, so besides Pete and Patrick having to flash their police credentials at the sector gates, they weren't stopped at all.

"Brendon and Spencer can stay with us, right?" Gerard asked Mikey as most of the X5s unloaded at Frank's building. The X5s who'd driven Mikey's car back also piled out, and he exhaled with relief. It didn't look any worse for wear. "We left Ian at our place. He'd probably like the company."

Mikey groaned. "Don't tell me we're getting a pet."

"He's not a pet! He's a person!"

"Well," Frank said loudly. "Thanks for the rescue. I'll just go and sleep for a year now. Come on, Ray."

Ray shifted uncomfortably. "I'm...actually going back with Gerard."

"Oh."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "You should come back, too."

Frank grinned. "Yeah?"

"I know you're dying to ask me how I knew about all this."

"And where you learned to hold a gun," Frank said. "It's fucking sexy."

Mikey blushed, and Gerard laughed behind him.

"Give me a sec," Frank said. He turned to Jamia. "Mind staying in my place? I think I'll be moving out in a couple days, but..."

"You don't want the others stealing your shit?" she asked.

Frank snorted. "Something like that."

"They're grabby bastards. I always had to hide my hair brushes in Manticore." Jamia paused. "As long as you don't care about me stealing your clothes."

"Fine with me."

"Cool."

Brendon jumped over to Mikey's SUV. "Can I drive?"

"No," Mikey said.

"You can ride shotgun in the truck with me," Frank said.

Brendon beamed. "Awesome."

Mikey would be lying if he didn't say he wasn't on-edge when they made their way back to Sector 1. A bunch of weird cars in Sector 6 was one thing. His bullet-riddled SUV and a stolen military truck in the richest part of town was something else entirely. But the crossing guard didn't even blink. Probably because Patrick slipped him a roll of bills.

"I knew I'd find a use for your money," he told Mikey.

Mikey gaped. "Besides...what, food?"

Patrick shrugged. "Eating's overrated."

Pete and Patrick took the truck off Frank's hands once they parked outside Mikey's building.

"Nice meeting you," Frank said, shaking their hands with his good arm. He was moving his left arm like it barely hurt, though.

"Nice having us save your ass," Pete said.

"That too."

Patrick tipped the brim of his hat. "Night."

Brendon bounced from foot to foot as they rode the elevator to the penthouse. "We didn't let Ian out before we left. What if he peed everywhere?"

"God," Spencer said. "He knows how to use a toilet."

Ian was curled on the front rug when they got in. He yawned and got to his feet. "Hey. You're all alive."

"You don't have to sleep on the rug," Mikey said. "We have a guest room. And couches."

"What? The floor's nice."

"Wait here," Gerard told Frank and Ray. "I'll point them to the guest room."

"Tell me there are two beds," Spencer said wearily. "Brendon kicks."

"I do not!"

"Then why do I have bruises all over my legs?"

They squabbled all the way down the hall, and Ian brought up the back.

"You get to keep them," Frank said. "Fun."

"I've always wanted a guard dog," Mikey said, deadpan.

Gerard came back in a few seconds. "So can we show them?"

"I told you yes before we left."

Gerard ran for the office. Ray followed him closely, but Frank paused until Mikey waved a hand. "After you."

"Check," Gerard was saying as they walked in. He cleared a stack of coffee cups off Mikey's chair, and Frank sat down.

"I knew your place was too clean," he said. "What am I supposed to see, exactly?"

Gerard picked up a keyboard and mouse and moved around for a couple seconds. Then he said, "I put this together a little while ago. But we won't use it without your go-ahead."

"What?" Ray asked.

Gerard clicked the mouse, and the monitor lit up with an Eyes Only message.

"This is a streaming freedom video bulletin," Gerard's voice said.

"They're your eyes," Frank blurted to Mikey. The shocked look on his face was fantastic.

Ray punched Frank's good arm. "I fucking told you!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Frank said, but his voice was a little breathy. "You guys were Eyes Only this whole time?"

Gerard bobbed his head eagerly. "Manticore's been a project of ours for years!"

"So it was you guys!" Frank said, looking back and forth between them. "You tipped off the cops!"

"No, actually," Mikey said. He rubbed his back. It was still a little tender. "We think they followed Pete. But I was there."

Frank scowled at him. "You nearly got me killed."

"I..." Well. It was true, wasn't it?

Ray shoved Frank. "Stop being an asshole."

Frank cracked up. "Sorry! He was just so serious about it!"

Mikey's face went back into its usual expressionless state. But he smiled almost right away. And stepped on Frank's toes.

"Well," Frank said, "you did save my life tonight. So I guess it's not a big deal."

"But you did nearly die," Gerard said, eyes wide. "Brendon told me about your pills."

Frank shrugged. "I'm better now."

"But you were in heat! That was totally our fault!"

Mikey did a double-take. Frank winced. "How the fuck..."

Ray pointedly avoided everyone's gaze.

"Traitor," Frank said. "Mikey, I need to not be in a room with him right now. Tell me where your bedroom is."

"Um." Mikey blushed, but he led Frank out of the office and into his bedroom. It looked like the rest of the place with all the dark wood and minimal furniture, but with a rumpled bed instead of couches or chairs. Mikey promptly sat on it, and Frank sat next to him.

"Why do you live here?" Frank asked. "I mean, what's the appeal? It has a full ceiling."

Mikey shrugged. "It was my grandmother's."

"Huh." Frank turned to him. "Listen. About that heat thing-"

"It's no big deal," Mikey said quickly. "Um. Unless you feel like I took advantage of you, in which case it's a really big deal, and I'm really sorry, and-"

"Whoa, slow down." He'd never heard Mikey speak that fast in his life. "Take advantage of me. Seriously?"

"Oh. So you...wanted to?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "And here I thought Eyes Only was supposed to be smart. Yes. I really, really wanted to."

Mikey smiled. "Me too."

"Good." He put a hand on Mikey's knee. "So this is okay?"

"Very okay." Mikey slipped a hand into Frank's hair. "It sucked seeing you get shot."

"I'll live."

"I just...like you, you know?"

Frank snickered. "I didn't go to school. Is this the moment where you pass me a note, and I circle if I like you or not?"

"Please. It's texts these days."

"Right." Frank pulled out his phone. Seconds later, Mikey's phone buzzed. All the message read was 'y'.

"Would it be too forward if I asked you to move in with me?" Mikey asked. "I mean, Ray and Brendon and Spencer'll be here already."

Frank slid his hand to Mikey's hip. Mikey leaned into the touch. "And the fact that you're head over heels for me has nothing to do with it."

"Not at all." Mikey paused. "I might have to fire you from Eyeball, though."

"I'm sure being Eyes Only's pet X5 pays well."

Frank nibbled on his neck. Mikey groaned.

"The soundproofing in here sucks," Mikey said. "Fair warning."

Something crashed, and Ian barked. Seriously barked.

"You'll just have to be quiet, then," Frank said. He pulled Mikey down on the bed. "And watch out for my bullet wound."

Mikey grinned. "Deal."

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