Circus Arcana PART TWO
PART TWO
Abbey House had single rooms, but they were much too expensive. Jensen bartered with the innkeeper until they finally came to an agreement. A partial show for one night's stay. Jensen agreed to let Chris do his knife throwing, the contortionists wow the crowd, and the end of the half-act would be Danni doing her exotic dance.
Ever the showman, Chris didn't bother to set up his stage. Instead, he milled about the crowd and chucked his knives at the walls, beams, and tables. Sure, they left a gouge, but to be quite honest, the place had seen worse. The innkeeper didn't care. His rowdy crowd was controlled for one night, and that's all that mattered.
Jared sat in front of Jensen at a table. Jensen had talked the innkeeper out of a bowl of broth made from some sort of meat (Jensen had learned to never ask what the meat was), and a hearty, crusty piece of bread. The boy ate while he watched the show. Sat at the bar, Jensen glanced from Jared to Chris, wondering how he was enjoying the show. He loved seeing how the acts affected kids. Chris interrupted his meal momentarily to bring some good comic relief to his act. He attempted to show Jared how to throw a knife, each time nearly landing them into trouble, had it not been part of the show. The kid had a cute smile and, regardless of his circumstances, it showed itself quite easily. That simple act impressed Jensen. He wasn't sure he could be as strong as this kid was, facing the unknown.
Elbows leant back against the bar, Jensen chuckled at Chris. He felt a poke to his shoulder, interrupting him. He turned and saw the innkeeper there. The man leaned closer, pointing to the front door with his thumb.
“I got Agents outside my door,” he snarled. “Is that your doing?”
Jensen took a deep breath and sighed. He turned around completely, facing the man. “Look, they're pissed because I gave them the slip earlier. The kid doesn't have papers. He's just kind of...showed up, had a bad run of luck. There was a fire, and - well, his papers are gone. I'm scared what will happened if they get their hands on him.”
The innkeeper, though he looked gruff and angry, nodded his head and frowned. “They took my sister's kid,” he said. “That boy's a killer now.”
Jensen looked sympathetic. “I'm so sorry.”
The innkeeper nodded again. “I know a guy,” he said. “Abe Keller. Say his name down at the market, and they'll point you in the right direction. Those bastards won't get another kid, if I have anything to say about it.”
Jensen smiled gratefully, extending his hand. The innkeeper took it, shaking it firmly. It was always good to make a new ally.
The bunk rooms used to be separated - one side men's, the other, separated by a hanging curtain, was the women's. Over the years, however, both migrated to the opposite sides until it was a free-for-all with a curtain draped over a sagging line in the middle. Jensen took the bunk nearest to the door, figuring that the kid might have to get up during the night to visit the community bathroom down the hall.
“Okay, here's your bunk, kid,” he said, patting the dusty mattress. “It's old, and probably not very comfortable, but we're warm and safe, okay?”
Jared crawled down onto the mattress. “Okay,” he agreed. He was suddenly very aware of how tired he was. Eyes drooping, he looked up at Jensen. “My shoulder still hurts.”
“Okay,” Jensen said. He helped Jared take off his coat, then tugged off the kid's shirt. He examined his shoulder, but didn't see anything really significant. “Well, it's red,” he announced. “Kind of hot. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Jared told him. “I'm not upset or anything.”
“Alright.” Jensen handed him back his shirt, helping him thread his arms through it. He put the kid's coat back on - they didn't have any nightclothes to change into. “We'll see how you feel in the morning, okay?”
Ready to slump down against the pillow, Jared nodded. “Okay,” he agreed.
Jensen chuckled at him. “Okay,” he repeated, mocking Jared's sleepy tone. “If you need to get up during the night, the bathroom is down the hall, to the left.”
“Okay.” Jared's word was muffled against the pillow, and in a matter of a few seconds, he was breathing slowly and deeply. Out like a light.
Jensen didn't cover Jared, for he'd learned that the simple act of covering up with the old, dirty blankets could result in all sorts of strange bug bites. It was risky enough sleeping there. But, when you didn't have a choice, Abbey House didn't seem so bad after all. Hopping up onto the top bunk, Jensen settled in for the night. The lights went down, only a few oil lamps burning as safety lights. Jensen looked around to make sure his crew was settled. On his last scan of the room, he saw Chris and Danni snuggled closer to the fire in the room. He knew Chris would wake up during the night to stoke the fire. They would stay relatively warm tonight.
It was strangely quiet, for being such a big city. Back home, the city never slept. Here, it seemed that the people were all off the streets when it got very dark. Quiet crept in, save for the snoring in the Abbey House bunk room. With sleep-laden eyes, Jared sat up in bed, looking around. He was confused only for a moment, remembering the previous events that led him there. He wanted to sleep more, but his shoulder was still hurting him. Whimpering slightly to himself, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He peeked up at the top bunk and saw Jensen sleeping there, on his side. He debated waking the man up, but he looked so peaceful and content that Jared didn't have the heart to rouse him. By the light of the oil lamps, he picked his way to the big, lone window in the room. It was open, letting in the night air, which smelled sweet and smoky at the same time. Jared peeked out. The cobblestone streets were quiet, lit by lamps with flickering flames. A lone agent strolled down the walk, thumbs in his belt, whistling some unknown tune. Jared watched him for a moment, deciding the man was not a threat. He was on watch, it seemed, but why Jared didn't understand.
The pain in his shoulder pulled him away from the window. He decided to head to the bathroom and see if he could find out what was going on with it. Heat radiated from the skin there, but nowhere else on his body. He knew that sometimes, back home, a spider bite or that of some other bug, and it would give him that kind of reaction. This world was incredibly different, but he wondered if something similar could have happened.
The door creaked when he pushed it open. He closed it again, and locked it, since he would be taking his jacket and shirt off. He was uncomfortable with someone walking in on him. Except for Jensen. He was the only one Jared trusted right now. Jared found an old, rickety pallet box underneath the sink. Inside were some random odds and ends that made no sense to him. He dumped the box out and turned it over. Standing on it, he could see himself in the mirror on the wall above the grungy sink. He pulled off his jacket, dropped it to the floor, and quickly did the same with his T-shirt.
His shoulder, while it had been a bright pink before when Jensen looked at it, was now an angry fire-red. Strangely enough, the red streaks had a pattern to them. It reminded him of the tribal tattoos he used to see on people back home. It ran from his neck, along his upper arm, to the inside of his elbow, tendrils of hot lava burning alive on his skin. Panic started to set in as Jared watched his skin seem to sear right before his eyes. The pain became unbearable. His head swam, his vision blanked out completely. He heard a scream, and realized it was coming from his own throat.
Starting awake, Jensen gasped and sat up. He looked around the bunk room, seeing that several other people had been roused from their sleep. He wasn't the only one that had heard something. Something that had concerned them all - but what was it? Then, Jensen heard it again. It was a scream and, if he had money to bet, he would have placed his wager that it was Jared's voice he’d heard. Jumping down from the bunk, Jensen raced out into the hallway, calling Jared's name. He made a beeline for the bathroom, but the door was locked when he got there. Inside the room, Jensen could hear Jared screaming again, crying out for him, asking for help.
“Jared!” he cried out to the boy. “Jared!”
He put his shoulder to the door two times before it finally broke open. Jared was there, on the floor, curled up underneath the sink. His skin was shiny with sweat, his hair matted to his head. His eyes looked strange again, as if filled with fire and ash. It was then that he saw the boy's shoulder. Where it had been an angry pink before, now it was burnt black, the skin still bubbling from his shoulder to his elbow. There was a vague pattern to it all, making Jensen squint his eyes, wonder what the hell was going on.
“Jesus,” Jensen breathed. He didn't understand any of this, but he knelt down in front of Jared reaching out for him. Jared flinched and tried to back away. “Hey, it's me. It's me, kid. I'm not going to hurt you.”
“But I might hurt you,” Jared told him.
Jensen smiled and shook his head. He got a hold of Jared and pulled him closer, looking down at his arm. Why hadn't the boy been burned before, but now, his skin was blackened and falling off his arm? And it was only getting worse. The rest of the kid's torso was starting to turn the same angry pink and red. It wasn't over. Chest rising and falling with nervous breaths, Jensen leaned over and grabbed Jared's jacket. He put it over his shoulders, apologizing when the cloth touching the boy's burned skin seemed to hurt him.
He leaned down and looked into the boy's eyes. “Let's get you out of here,” Jensen said with a reassuring smile.
Jared was too hurt, too tired to argue. He just nodded his head and let Jensen help him up off the bathroom floor.
Jensen guided him out into the corridor. People were there, trying to see what was going on, why the boy had been screaming. Jensen didn't say anything to them. He made his way back to the room, where he found his crew awake, but not too interested. They'd seen and heard so many things in their time, this wasn't that big a deal. And they knew Jensen. They knew how he was good at controlling things like that. Out of control crowds. Angry midway customers. If he'd needed help, he would have asked.
Still, Chris met Jensen at the bunk he and Jared had shared. “What's going on?”
“I'm going to get him to a doctor,” Jensen said. He sat down on the bed and put Jared in front of him, beginning to zip up the boy's coat.
“What? Jen, that's crazy,” Chris told him.
Jensen looked up at Chris and pulled Jared's coat open again. He moved it enough for Chris to see the boy's charred shoulder.
“Jesus,” Chris breathed.
“Exactly,” Jensen agreed. He zipped up the jacket all the way. “He wasn't even slightly singed with the other fire. Something's going on with him that I can't figure out. Our little home remedies aren't going to help him.”
“You're not leaving me,” Jared said, more of a question than a statement.
Jensen smiled at him. “Not leaving,” he said. “I just need someone to see you, okay?”
“Jen, this is still suicide,” Chris said. “You can't go out there, now especially. The agents are out there.”
“I can't let him suffer like this.”
Chris looked down at Jared. The boy had black rings under his eyes, his hair was sweat-lathered and snarled. He looked tired and sick. Sighing, Chris gave in with a shake of his head. “What do you need?”
“A distraction,” Jensen said, thanking him with just the look in his eyes.
“Alright,” Chris sighed. He turned and snapped his fingers. “Gabe. Wanna play with the agents?”
Gabriel met Chris's gaze and smiled.
Chris had a unique ability. It wasn't one used for the Big Top. They kept it pretty quiet, because if the Service found out about it, they'd hunt him down in a heartbeat. Jensen hated to think what would happen to him then. That's why Chris stayed under cover when doing something like this. He was vulnerable when he was in someone's head. Defenceless. He needed a protector, and most times it was Gabriel that watched over him.
Downstairs, the Inn was dark. No lamps were lit here, but Chris found his way by the amber street lamp light filtering through the dingy windows. He stood to the side of one of the windows, and found the Service agent that was on watch. He locked his gaze upon him and concentrated. He watched the agent stop walking and turn towards Abbey House, a confused look upon his face. The agents were schooled in how to avoid someone hacking into their heads, but Chris had always found that he was stronger than their defenses. Maybe because he practiced. It hadn't used to be under control, much like Jared's problem. Practice had made perfect.
The Service agent shook his head, blinking hard. But it was too late. Chris was already inside it. He knew, as did everyone else in the world of today, that you may see one Service agent, but that there are always two more in the wings, waiting. They were all, every one of them, electronically tethered together by implants at the base of their skulls. The implants were shallow and could, technically, easily be dug out. But, the agents never did such a thing. The Service had them so brainwashed, they believed that the chips were there to protect them. And perhaps they were, in a sense, but Chris had always thought the idea of one of those things in his head was more than just creepy.
Once inside, Chris had to weave his way this way and that around the man's mind. More proof of how twisted the Service made you. Once he found where he wanted to be, he made the agent look around. He could see through the man's eyes. He spotted where the other agents were clandestinely loitering in a shallow alley. He made the agent move towards them, feeling the man's limbs give to his wishes.
The two agents noticed their counterpart coming closer. “Ellis,” one of them whispered. He frowned when the agent didn't respond. “Ellis.”
Ellis's eyes trained on the man, but he still did not respond. Chris could move them, but he could not control their voices.
“What are you doing?” the man hissed at Ellis. “You're going to give away our position. Get back out there like you're supposed to.”
With seemingly dead eyes, Ellis reached out to both men at the same time. He took them down with just a few blows to the gut, to the head, and then stood in the alley, as if waiting for something.
For Circus Arcana, Gabriel did death-defying things on the trapeze, or on a tightrope. Although the acts looked terrifying to the crowd, they were simple, yet fun, to Gabriel. He was gifted with the strongest bones of anyone he'd ever met. He was sure he could probably break a bone, but he hadn't yet. Now, he used his circus skills to get to the alley ground. He jumped from one fire escape to another, making almost no sound as he landed in a cat-like manner. At the last fire escape, Gabriel looked over the side and smiled. He jumped down atop Ellis, knocking him down to the ground. He checked on all three agents, finding them to be out cold. Perfection. He dragged the bodies further into the alley, out of sight. It would be a little harder for the other agents to find them, but even now, the Service was being alerted that the three men had lost consciousness and that the 19th Ward was now unmanned. Whistling, Gabriel nodded to Chris, who he could just barely see in the inn's window. Chris nodded and motioned behind him. After just a few seconds, Jensen emerged from the inn, Jared in tow.
Gabriel watched them slip into the shadows, then hopped up the ladder to the fire escape. He returned the way he'd come, making sure to be just as quiet. More agents would be on their way. He didn't want to get caught outside when they showed up.
Jensen's heart pounded as he tried to keep Jared to the shadows. It wasn't the first time in his life that he'd defied the agents and gone out after curfew. But it was the first time that someone was hurt and in desperate need of help. The first time someone was seriously depending on him. He hurried Jared along, whispering gentle directions. The boy was trying, but the pain of his burning skin was taking it's toll. It scared Jensen almost as much as Jared. Even though they'd only known each other a short while, Jensen had known there was an immediate connection between them.
Doubling over, Jared clutched at his midriff. Everything burned, a pain like no other he'd felt before. “What's happening?” he asked. Too loud. Much too loud.
Jensen hushed him, kneeling down in front of him. “Shh,” he said softly. “We have to be as quiet as we can.” The look on Jared's face scared Jensen. It was a look of a child that was giving up. He touched Jared's face, brushing his thumb over the boy's cheek.
Jared weaved slightly, finding his bearings by setting a hand to Jensen's shoulder. “Are you taking me home?”
Jensen stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if the boy was experiencing some sort of memory loss. “No,” he finally answered apologetically. “We're trying to find a doctor.”
Blinking slowly, Jared was about to nod when another ripple of pain shot through him. He bent over, clutching at his stomach. Feeling helpless, Jensen caught him before he hit the ground, protecting his head as he set him down on the cobblestone street. It was then that he heard the familiar whirr of a Service Agent's side arm charging to full capacity. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. Damn, he swore silently to himself. So close.
“On your feet, citizen,” the agent snarled.
Jensen held up his hands and turned to face the agents, standing tall. He saw two agents there, one smiling smugly at him, the other kneeling to check on Jared. “This kid needs a doctor,” Jensen said, speaking out of turn. As his reward, the agent holding the gun on him lashed out, jamming the butt of his side arm against Jensen's temple.
Cursing, Jensen pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, where the gun had hit. When he drew his hand back, he found blood on his palm.
“Please,” Jensen said again. “He needs a doctor.”
The agent pulled his arm back again, to strike, but he was interrupted by a thick arm wrapping around his throat from behind. Jensen saw Chris there, restraining the agent. Thankful for the help, he turned to grab Jared again, but the other agent had already scooped him up in his arms. Though Jared was mostly non-responsive, weaving precariously as he stood, the agent kept him there, his side arm drawn and pressed to Jared's neck.
“No,” Jensen said. He held his hands up to the agent, his eyes begging him to let the boy go. “Please. He's just a kid.”
“Let go of him,” the agent said.
Jensen looked back at the other agent. He was choking against Chris's hold. Jensen wanted to tell Chris to kill the son of a bitch, but he knew that would only worsen the situation. He frowned and nodded to Chris, who in turn waited a few beats before releasing the agent. He shoved him away - hard - and stood beside Jensen, puffed up and ready to fight.
The agents knew when to draw back. While rubbing at his neck, the one agent told the other to back off. But they kept Jared with them.
Jensen saw them leaving with the kid and took a step forward. He wanted to say something along the lines of No, wait, he's mine, but that wouldn't be correct. Jared wasn't his, and slavery was illegal. Or so the Service pretended. The agents were their own slaves, though the powers that be had them so brainwashed that they believed the Service was doing them a favor.
Jensen felt a hand on his chest, pushing him back. It was Chris, being the voice of reason. If he continued to fight with the agents, they were going to have a bigger problem. Still, Jensen had to voice his protest. “No, Chris, let me go,” he said, trying to shove the man away from him.
“Think about it, Jen,” Chris said, moving to stand in front of him. He set both hands to Jensen's chest and pushed, much more gently than he had with the agent. “You're not going to be able to help him if you're in there with him.”
“Chris, please.”
“Or worse, if you're dead,” Chris continued. He saw Jensen finally meet his eyes, and he nodded. “They'll get him the doctors he needs. And there'll be another time and place for this. Trust me.”
Jensen watched them drag Jared away, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could run after them, swoop in and save Jared from their clutches. But, he knew Chris was right. There would be another time. Another place.
PART THREE
Abbey House had single rooms, but they were much too expensive. Jensen bartered with the innkeeper until they finally came to an agreement. A partial show for one night's stay. Jensen agreed to let Chris do his knife throwing, the contortionists wow the crowd, and the end of the half-act would be Danni doing her exotic dance.
Ever the showman, Chris didn't bother to set up his stage. Instead, he milled about the crowd and chucked his knives at the walls, beams, and tables. Sure, they left a gouge, but to be quite honest, the place had seen worse. The innkeeper didn't care. His rowdy crowd was controlled for one night, and that's all that mattered.
Jared sat in front of Jensen at a table. Jensen had talked the innkeeper out of a bowl of broth made from some sort of meat (Jensen had learned to never ask what the meat was), and a hearty, crusty piece of bread. The boy ate while he watched the show. Sat at the bar, Jensen glanced from Jared to Chris, wondering how he was enjoying the show. He loved seeing how the acts affected kids. Chris interrupted his meal momentarily to bring some good comic relief to his act. He attempted to show Jared how to throw a knife, each time nearly landing them into trouble, had it not been part of the show. The kid had a cute smile and, regardless of his circumstances, it showed itself quite easily. That simple act impressed Jensen. He wasn't sure he could be as strong as this kid was, facing the unknown.
Elbows leant back against the bar, Jensen chuckled at Chris. He felt a poke to his shoulder, interrupting him. He turned and saw the innkeeper there. The man leaned closer, pointing to the front door with his thumb.
“I got Agents outside my door,” he snarled. “Is that your doing?”
Jensen took a deep breath and sighed. He turned around completely, facing the man. “Look, they're pissed because I gave them the slip earlier. The kid doesn't have papers. He's just kind of...showed up, had a bad run of luck. There was a fire, and - well, his papers are gone. I'm scared what will happened if they get their hands on him.”
The innkeeper, though he looked gruff and angry, nodded his head and frowned. “They took my sister's kid,” he said. “That boy's a killer now.”
Jensen looked sympathetic. “I'm so sorry.”
The innkeeper nodded again. “I know a guy,” he said. “Abe Keller. Say his name down at the market, and they'll point you in the right direction. Those bastards won't get another kid, if I have anything to say about it.”
Jensen smiled gratefully, extending his hand. The innkeeper took it, shaking it firmly. It was always good to make a new ally.
The bunk rooms used to be separated - one side men's, the other, separated by a hanging curtain, was the women's. Over the years, however, both migrated to the opposite sides until it was a free-for-all with a curtain draped over a sagging line in the middle. Jensen took the bunk nearest to the door, figuring that the kid might have to get up during the night to visit the community bathroom down the hall.
“Okay, here's your bunk, kid,” he said, patting the dusty mattress. “It's old, and probably not very comfortable, but we're warm and safe, okay?”
Jared crawled down onto the mattress. “Okay,” he agreed. He was suddenly very aware of how tired he was. Eyes drooping, he looked up at Jensen. “My shoulder still hurts.”
“Okay,” Jensen said. He helped Jared take off his coat, then tugged off the kid's shirt. He examined his shoulder, but didn't see anything really significant. “Well, it's red,” he announced. “Kind of hot. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Jared told him. “I'm not upset or anything.”
“Alright.” Jensen handed him back his shirt, helping him thread his arms through it. He put the kid's coat back on - they didn't have any nightclothes to change into. “We'll see how you feel in the morning, okay?”
Ready to slump down against the pillow, Jared nodded. “Okay,” he agreed.
Jensen chuckled at him. “Okay,” he repeated, mocking Jared's sleepy tone. “If you need to get up during the night, the bathroom is down the hall, to the left.”
“Okay.” Jared's word was muffled against the pillow, and in a matter of a few seconds, he was breathing slowly and deeply. Out like a light.
Jensen didn't cover Jared, for he'd learned that the simple act of covering up with the old, dirty blankets could result in all sorts of strange bug bites. It was risky enough sleeping there. But, when you didn't have a choice, Abbey House didn't seem so bad after all. Hopping up onto the top bunk, Jensen settled in for the night. The lights went down, only a few oil lamps burning as safety lights. Jensen looked around to make sure his crew was settled. On his last scan of the room, he saw Chris and Danni snuggled closer to the fire in the room. He knew Chris would wake up during the night to stoke the fire. They would stay relatively warm tonight.
It was strangely quiet, for being such a big city. Back home, the city never slept. Here, it seemed that the people were all off the streets when it got very dark. Quiet crept in, save for the snoring in the Abbey House bunk room. With sleep-laden eyes, Jared sat up in bed, looking around. He was confused only for a moment, remembering the previous events that led him there. He wanted to sleep more, but his shoulder was still hurting him. Whimpering slightly to himself, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He peeked up at the top bunk and saw Jensen sleeping there, on his side. He debated waking the man up, but he looked so peaceful and content that Jared didn't have the heart to rouse him. By the light of the oil lamps, he picked his way to the big, lone window in the room. It was open, letting in the night air, which smelled sweet and smoky at the same time. Jared peeked out. The cobblestone streets were quiet, lit by lamps with flickering flames. A lone agent strolled down the walk, thumbs in his belt, whistling some unknown tune. Jared watched him for a moment, deciding the man was not a threat. He was on watch, it seemed, but why Jared didn't understand.
The pain in his shoulder pulled him away from the window. He decided to head to the bathroom and see if he could find out what was going on with it. Heat radiated from the skin there, but nowhere else on his body. He knew that sometimes, back home, a spider bite or that of some other bug, and it would give him that kind of reaction. This world was incredibly different, but he wondered if something similar could have happened.
The door creaked when he pushed it open. He closed it again, and locked it, since he would be taking his jacket and shirt off. He was uncomfortable with someone walking in on him. Except for Jensen. He was the only one Jared trusted right now. Jared found an old, rickety pallet box underneath the sink. Inside were some random odds and ends that made no sense to him. He dumped the box out and turned it over. Standing on it, he could see himself in the mirror on the wall above the grungy sink. He pulled off his jacket, dropped it to the floor, and quickly did the same with his T-shirt.
His shoulder, while it had been a bright pink before when Jensen looked at it, was now an angry fire-red. Strangely enough, the red streaks had a pattern to them. It reminded him of the tribal tattoos he used to see on people back home. It ran from his neck, along his upper arm, to the inside of his elbow, tendrils of hot lava burning alive on his skin. Panic started to set in as Jared watched his skin seem to sear right before his eyes. The pain became unbearable. His head swam, his vision blanked out completely. He heard a scream, and realized it was coming from his own throat.
Starting awake, Jensen gasped and sat up. He looked around the bunk room, seeing that several other people had been roused from their sleep. He wasn't the only one that had heard something. Something that had concerned them all - but what was it? Then, Jensen heard it again. It was a scream and, if he had money to bet, he would have placed his wager that it was Jared's voice he’d heard. Jumping down from the bunk, Jensen raced out into the hallway, calling Jared's name. He made a beeline for the bathroom, but the door was locked when he got there. Inside the room, Jensen could hear Jared screaming again, crying out for him, asking for help.
“Jared!” he cried out to the boy. “Jared!”
He put his shoulder to the door two times before it finally broke open. Jared was there, on the floor, curled up underneath the sink. His skin was shiny with sweat, his hair matted to his head. His eyes looked strange again, as if filled with fire and ash. It was then that he saw the boy's shoulder. Where it had been an angry pink before, now it was burnt black, the skin still bubbling from his shoulder to his elbow. There was a vague pattern to it all, making Jensen squint his eyes, wonder what the hell was going on.
“Jesus,” Jensen breathed. He didn't understand any of this, but he knelt down in front of Jared reaching out for him. Jared flinched and tried to back away. “Hey, it's me. It's me, kid. I'm not going to hurt you.”
“But I might hurt you,” Jared told him.
Jensen smiled and shook his head. He got a hold of Jared and pulled him closer, looking down at his arm. Why hadn't the boy been burned before, but now, his skin was blackened and falling off his arm? And it was only getting worse. The rest of the kid's torso was starting to turn the same angry pink and red. It wasn't over. Chest rising and falling with nervous breaths, Jensen leaned over and grabbed Jared's jacket. He put it over his shoulders, apologizing when the cloth touching the boy's burned skin seemed to hurt him.
He leaned down and looked into the boy's eyes. “Let's get you out of here,” Jensen said with a reassuring smile.
Jared was too hurt, too tired to argue. He just nodded his head and let Jensen help him up off the bathroom floor.
Jensen guided him out into the corridor. People were there, trying to see what was going on, why the boy had been screaming. Jensen didn't say anything to them. He made his way back to the room, where he found his crew awake, but not too interested. They'd seen and heard so many things in their time, this wasn't that big a deal. And they knew Jensen. They knew how he was good at controlling things like that. Out of control crowds. Angry midway customers. If he'd needed help, he would have asked.
Still, Chris met Jensen at the bunk he and Jared had shared. “What's going on?”
“I'm going to get him to a doctor,” Jensen said. He sat down on the bed and put Jared in front of him, beginning to zip up the boy's coat.
“What? Jen, that's crazy,” Chris told him.
Jensen looked up at Chris and pulled Jared's coat open again. He moved it enough for Chris to see the boy's charred shoulder.
“Jesus,” Chris breathed.
“Exactly,” Jensen agreed. He zipped up the jacket all the way. “He wasn't even slightly singed with the other fire. Something's going on with him that I can't figure out. Our little home remedies aren't going to help him.”
“You're not leaving me,” Jared said, more of a question than a statement.
Jensen smiled at him. “Not leaving,” he said. “I just need someone to see you, okay?”
“Jen, this is still suicide,” Chris said. “You can't go out there, now especially. The agents are out there.”
“I can't let him suffer like this.”
Chris looked down at Jared. The boy had black rings under his eyes, his hair was sweat-lathered and snarled. He looked tired and sick. Sighing, Chris gave in with a shake of his head. “What do you need?”
“A distraction,” Jensen said, thanking him with just the look in his eyes.
“Alright,” Chris sighed. He turned and snapped his fingers. “Gabe. Wanna play with the agents?”
Gabriel met Chris's gaze and smiled.
Chris had a unique ability. It wasn't one used for the Big Top. They kept it pretty quiet, because if the Service found out about it, they'd hunt him down in a heartbeat. Jensen hated to think what would happen to him then. That's why Chris stayed under cover when doing something like this. He was vulnerable when he was in someone's head. Defenceless. He needed a protector, and most times it was Gabriel that watched over him.
Downstairs, the Inn was dark. No lamps were lit here, but Chris found his way by the amber street lamp light filtering through the dingy windows. He stood to the side of one of the windows, and found the Service agent that was on watch. He locked his gaze upon him and concentrated. He watched the agent stop walking and turn towards Abbey House, a confused look upon his face. The agents were schooled in how to avoid someone hacking into their heads, but Chris had always found that he was stronger than their defenses. Maybe because he practiced. It hadn't used to be under control, much like Jared's problem. Practice had made perfect.
The Service agent shook his head, blinking hard. But it was too late. Chris was already inside it. He knew, as did everyone else in the world of today, that you may see one Service agent, but that there are always two more in the wings, waiting. They were all, every one of them, electronically tethered together by implants at the base of their skulls. The implants were shallow and could, technically, easily be dug out. But, the agents never did such a thing. The Service had them so brainwashed, they believed that the chips were there to protect them. And perhaps they were, in a sense, but Chris had always thought the idea of one of those things in his head was more than just creepy.
Once inside, Chris had to weave his way this way and that around the man's mind. More proof of how twisted the Service made you. Once he found where he wanted to be, he made the agent look around. He could see through the man's eyes. He spotted where the other agents were clandestinely loitering in a shallow alley. He made the agent move towards them, feeling the man's limbs give to his wishes.
The two agents noticed their counterpart coming closer. “Ellis,” one of them whispered. He frowned when the agent didn't respond. “Ellis.”
Ellis's eyes trained on the man, but he still did not respond. Chris could move them, but he could not control their voices.
“What are you doing?” the man hissed at Ellis. “You're going to give away our position. Get back out there like you're supposed to.”
With seemingly dead eyes, Ellis reached out to both men at the same time. He took them down with just a few blows to the gut, to the head, and then stood in the alley, as if waiting for something.
For Circus Arcana, Gabriel did death-defying things on the trapeze, or on a tightrope. Although the acts looked terrifying to the crowd, they were simple, yet fun, to Gabriel. He was gifted with the strongest bones of anyone he'd ever met. He was sure he could probably break a bone, but he hadn't yet. Now, he used his circus skills to get to the alley ground. He jumped from one fire escape to another, making almost no sound as he landed in a cat-like manner. At the last fire escape, Gabriel looked over the side and smiled. He jumped down atop Ellis, knocking him down to the ground. He checked on all three agents, finding them to be out cold. Perfection. He dragged the bodies further into the alley, out of sight. It would be a little harder for the other agents to find them, but even now, the Service was being alerted that the three men had lost consciousness and that the 19th Ward was now unmanned. Whistling, Gabriel nodded to Chris, who he could just barely see in the inn's window. Chris nodded and motioned behind him. After just a few seconds, Jensen emerged from the inn, Jared in tow.
Gabriel watched them slip into the shadows, then hopped up the ladder to the fire escape. He returned the way he'd come, making sure to be just as quiet. More agents would be on their way. He didn't want to get caught outside when they showed up.
Jensen's heart pounded as he tried to keep Jared to the shadows. It wasn't the first time in his life that he'd defied the agents and gone out after curfew. But it was the first time that someone was hurt and in desperate need of help. The first time someone was seriously depending on him. He hurried Jared along, whispering gentle directions. The boy was trying, but the pain of his burning skin was taking it's toll. It scared Jensen almost as much as Jared. Even though they'd only known each other a short while, Jensen had known there was an immediate connection between them.
Doubling over, Jared clutched at his midriff. Everything burned, a pain like no other he'd felt before. “What's happening?” he asked. Too loud. Much too loud.
Jensen hushed him, kneeling down in front of him. “Shh,” he said softly. “We have to be as quiet as we can.” The look on Jared's face scared Jensen. It was a look of a child that was giving up. He touched Jared's face, brushing his thumb over the boy's cheek.
Jared weaved slightly, finding his bearings by setting a hand to Jensen's shoulder. “Are you taking me home?”
Jensen stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if the boy was experiencing some sort of memory loss. “No,” he finally answered apologetically. “We're trying to find a doctor.”
Blinking slowly, Jared was about to nod when another ripple of pain shot through him. He bent over, clutching at his stomach. Feeling helpless, Jensen caught him before he hit the ground, protecting his head as he set him down on the cobblestone street. It was then that he heard the familiar whirr of a Service Agent's side arm charging to full capacity. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. Damn, he swore silently to himself. So close.
“On your feet, citizen,” the agent snarled.
Jensen held up his hands and turned to face the agents, standing tall. He saw two agents there, one smiling smugly at him, the other kneeling to check on Jared. “This kid needs a doctor,” Jensen said, speaking out of turn. As his reward, the agent holding the gun on him lashed out, jamming the butt of his side arm against Jensen's temple.
Cursing, Jensen pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, where the gun had hit. When he drew his hand back, he found blood on his palm.
“Please,” Jensen said again. “He needs a doctor.”
The agent pulled his arm back again, to strike, but he was interrupted by a thick arm wrapping around his throat from behind. Jensen saw Chris there, restraining the agent. Thankful for the help, he turned to grab Jared again, but the other agent had already scooped him up in his arms. Though Jared was mostly non-responsive, weaving precariously as he stood, the agent kept him there, his side arm drawn and pressed to Jared's neck.
“No,” Jensen said. He held his hands up to the agent, his eyes begging him to let the boy go. “Please. He's just a kid.”
“Let go of him,” the agent said.
Jensen looked back at the other agent. He was choking against Chris's hold. Jensen wanted to tell Chris to kill the son of a bitch, but he knew that would only worsen the situation. He frowned and nodded to Chris, who in turn waited a few beats before releasing the agent. He shoved him away - hard - and stood beside Jensen, puffed up and ready to fight.
The agents knew when to draw back. While rubbing at his neck, the one agent told the other to back off. But they kept Jared with them.
Jensen saw them leaving with the kid and took a step forward. He wanted to say something along the lines of No, wait, he's mine, but that wouldn't be correct. Jared wasn't his, and slavery was illegal. Or so the Service pretended. The agents were their own slaves, though the powers that be had them so brainwashed that they believed the Service was doing them a favor.
Jensen felt a hand on his chest, pushing him back. It was Chris, being the voice of reason. If he continued to fight with the agents, they were going to have a bigger problem. Still, Jensen had to voice his protest. “No, Chris, let me go,” he said, trying to shove the man away from him.
“Think about it, Jen,” Chris said, moving to stand in front of him. He set both hands to Jensen's chest and pushed, much more gently than he had with the agent. “You're not going to be able to help him if you're in there with him.”
“Chris, please.”
“Or worse, if you're dead,” Chris continued. He saw Jensen finally meet his eyes, and he nodded. “They'll get him the doctors he needs. And there'll be another time and place for this. Trust me.”
Jensen watched them drag Jared away, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could run after them, swoop in and save Jared from their clutches. But, he knew Chris was right. There would be another time. Another place.
PART THREE