Fic: Pressure (Teen 2/5 Lockdown AU)
Title: Pressure 2/5
Author: Purpleyin
Rating: Teen
Spoilers: For S2 “Lockdown”.
Summary: Lockdown AU. Diana/Marco. He was so glad she was halfway across the building, he needed that distance as greatly as the rest of him wanted so desperately for it to not exist.
A/N: Thanks to Fanwoman for the betareading.
~
The beefy agents manhandled Marco as soon as he was out of the office. One held on to his forearm so tightly it would probably leave bruises, as the other moved the nearby drinks machine in front of the door, trapping Brady and PJ in the theory room. Marco was about to protest when it occurred to him it was probably for the best. If the two theory room guys didn't kill each other, then they'd have nothing to do apart from work on the solution in order to orchestrate their own escape.
After that show of strength, Marco knew how dangerous these guys were, so he let them all but drag him along the corridor at an exceedingly fast pace. Not to mention, as he looked back over his shoulder, he realised how outside of his comfort zone he was all of a sudden. He'd been glad to have something to attempt concentrate on before, the search for a solution, and without that purpose, put in a situation where he had little clue what was expected of him he was rapidly losing confidence. Even so there was still that buzz in his head, the mental irritator that made him itching for action and right now he had nothing to focus it on, apart from making sure he didn't do anything dumb.
“So, guys…where are we going?” he asked, attempting a casual friendly enquiry on the subject even as their treatment of him made his gorge rise.
“To the 4400s,” replied John McClain wannabe #2 as he prodded Marco into the elevator.
Which meant to where Diana was...
Panic overwhelmed him momentarily before the adrenaline-instigated anger kicked in at their stupidity. What did they expect he could do that any field agent couldn't? They clearly weren't thinking rationally - hell, he couldn't claim to be totally in control, either. The whole plan was lunacy, and what scared him most was the possibility that they might try to kill Maia and, in the process, hurt Diana.
Plus they were leading him straight to her position - the worst possible place for him to be if he wanted to maintain any shred of restraint. Oh, plenty of him wanted to be there, but that was why it wasn't a good idea. His mind swam with ideas fuelled by desire, things he had no business thinking about his friend, however much he wanted to be more than that. But he had no choice whatsoever on this course of action, unless he reckoned he could take on two heavily trained security men.
Grinning wryly, as he shuffled along between them, he pondered how this would turn out. Given enough time, his rational mind might be subverted by the signal to the point where fighting with these men would seem the obvious choice, a prospect he didn’t much appreciate. He had no idea how it would end if Brady and PJ couldn't find the counter signal. He hoped...but what good was that at a time like this? They needed a certainty, a saving grace for them making it through the utter chaos of the day.
Everything was a mess, literally. As they stalked one section of corridor, they had to step over debris from a fight - office furniture was strewn across the floor, along with grubby papers scattered. Across the nearest doorway and spread out into his path were pieces of a shattered mug, on which Marco could make out the fractured words “Wor...ld's Best...Dad”. He shuddered involuntarily when he realised the marks on the papers were bloody fingerprints.
Straining to hear, Marco could make out strange sounds in the distance. His captors tensed up, letting him go and instinctively reaching for their weapons as they neared the corner. He waited back, glad to be free and wondering if he should make a run for it, now that their attention was elsewhere. What stopped him was the thought that they must be closing in on the gym. Abruptly, his phone rang, and fortunately, his friends in black where no longer in close range to him. He clicked the button quickly, noticing it was Diana calling, again. Somehow he couldn't help answering brusquely.
“What do you want?”
“Marco, I need you to find that signal. Tell me you've nearly got it.” There was a hint of desperation in her voice that surprised him, given how demanding his mind told him she was being.
“You think I don't know that? And, no, I haven't got it - I'm nowhere near getting it, thanks to a couple of macho men having a bright idea. I'm not even working on it.”
Just as before, he hadn't meant to come off that harshly, his frustration came shining through in his ill thought out conversations with her. Even in the midst of his mental chaos, he wasn't so bad when not confronted by her and her increasingly stressed tone. But he didn't have time to retract what he'd said or explain further; she cut in, sounding evermore infuriated with him.
“What do you mean? You're not working on it? I need you to help, or every 4400 in here, including Maia, is in serious trouble.”
And with that, all his good intentions - to apologise, to reassure - fell away, leaving only bitterness in their wake.
“Right, you need me to do something. Don't you always.”
The second he'd said it, he regretted responding so callously and selfishly when people's lives where at stake. Expecting Diana to either hang-up or take her own anger out on him, he was left with a strange feeling when she said simply, “I have to go.” She'd sounded calm, in a controlled, rather forced way, which made his stomach churn. He preferred not to think about why she had to go, but he knew it must have something to do with the commandos, who'd presumably found her position.
Normally, he would have thought something like this through, developed a strategy at the very least, but the only fact he was currently capable of holding onto was that Diana was in danger. He broke into a run as he rounded the corner, sprinting towards the disturbance. His heart pumped hard in his chest, and his lungs wheezed slightly, his body's protest as the all-out rush to get to her. Right about now he was thinking it would've been good to have done field training already.
He skidded as he came round the final corner and stumbled onto the battle between Tom and three others. Finding a stray fist heading towards him, he ducked and promptly weaved out of the way only to be blindsided by one of the agent's falling, knocking him into the wall and out cold.
Author: Purpleyin
Rating: Teen
Spoilers: For S2 “Lockdown”.
Summary: Lockdown AU. Diana/Marco. He was so glad she was halfway across the building, he needed that distance as greatly as the rest of him wanted so desperately for it to not exist.
A/N: Thanks to Fanwoman for the betareading.
~
The beefy agents manhandled Marco as soon as he was out of the office. One held on to his forearm so tightly it would probably leave bruises, as the other moved the nearby drinks machine in front of the door, trapping Brady and PJ in the theory room. Marco was about to protest when it occurred to him it was probably for the best. If the two theory room guys didn't kill each other, then they'd have nothing to do apart from work on the solution in order to orchestrate their own escape.
After that show of strength, Marco knew how dangerous these guys were, so he let them all but drag him along the corridor at an exceedingly fast pace. Not to mention, as he looked back over his shoulder, he realised how outside of his comfort zone he was all of a sudden. He'd been glad to have something to attempt concentrate on before, the search for a solution, and without that purpose, put in a situation where he had little clue what was expected of him he was rapidly losing confidence. Even so there was still that buzz in his head, the mental irritator that made him itching for action and right now he had nothing to focus it on, apart from making sure he didn't do anything dumb.
“So, guys…where are we going?” he asked, attempting a casual friendly enquiry on the subject even as their treatment of him made his gorge rise.
“To the 4400s,” replied John McClain wannabe #2 as he prodded Marco into the elevator.
Which meant to where Diana was...
Panic overwhelmed him momentarily before the adrenaline-instigated anger kicked in at their stupidity. What did they expect he could do that any field agent couldn't? They clearly weren't thinking rationally - hell, he couldn't claim to be totally in control, either. The whole plan was lunacy, and what scared him most was the possibility that they might try to kill Maia and, in the process, hurt Diana.
Plus they were leading him straight to her position - the worst possible place for him to be if he wanted to maintain any shred of restraint. Oh, plenty of him wanted to be there, but that was why it wasn't a good idea. His mind swam with ideas fuelled by desire, things he had no business thinking about his friend, however much he wanted to be more than that. But he had no choice whatsoever on this course of action, unless he reckoned he could take on two heavily trained security men.
Grinning wryly, as he shuffled along between them, he pondered how this would turn out. Given enough time, his rational mind might be subverted by the signal to the point where fighting with these men would seem the obvious choice, a prospect he didn’t much appreciate. He had no idea how it would end if Brady and PJ couldn't find the counter signal. He hoped...but what good was that at a time like this? They needed a certainty, a saving grace for them making it through the utter chaos of the day.
Everything was a mess, literally. As they stalked one section of corridor, they had to step over debris from a fight - office furniture was strewn across the floor, along with grubby papers scattered. Across the nearest doorway and spread out into his path were pieces of a shattered mug, on which Marco could make out the fractured words “Wor...ld's Best...Dad”. He shuddered involuntarily when he realised the marks on the papers were bloody fingerprints.
Straining to hear, Marco could make out strange sounds in the distance. His captors tensed up, letting him go and instinctively reaching for their weapons as they neared the corner. He waited back, glad to be free and wondering if he should make a run for it, now that their attention was elsewhere. What stopped him was the thought that they must be closing in on the gym. Abruptly, his phone rang, and fortunately, his friends in black where no longer in close range to him. He clicked the button quickly, noticing it was Diana calling, again. Somehow he couldn't help answering brusquely.
“What do you want?”
“Marco, I need you to find that signal. Tell me you've nearly got it.” There was a hint of desperation in her voice that surprised him, given how demanding his mind told him she was being.
“You think I don't know that? And, no, I haven't got it - I'm nowhere near getting it, thanks to a couple of macho men having a bright idea. I'm not even working on it.”
Just as before, he hadn't meant to come off that harshly, his frustration came shining through in his ill thought out conversations with her. Even in the midst of his mental chaos, he wasn't so bad when not confronted by her and her increasingly stressed tone. But he didn't have time to retract what he'd said or explain further; she cut in, sounding evermore infuriated with him.
“What do you mean? You're not working on it? I need you to help, or every 4400 in here, including Maia, is in serious trouble.”
And with that, all his good intentions - to apologise, to reassure - fell away, leaving only bitterness in their wake.
“Right, you need me to do something. Don't you always.”
The second he'd said it, he regretted responding so callously and selfishly when people's lives where at stake. Expecting Diana to either hang-up or take her own anger out on him, he was left with a strange feeling when she said simply, “I have to go.” She'd sounded calm, in a controlled, rather forced way, which made his stomach churn. He preferred not to think about why she had to go, but he knew it must have something to do with the commandos, who'd presumably found her position.
Normally, he would have thought something like this through, developed a strategy at the very least, but the only fact he was currently capable of holding onto was that Diana was in danger. He broke into a run as he rounded the corner, sprinting towards the disturbance. His heart pumped hard in his chest, and his lungs wheezed slightly, his body's protest as the all-out rush to get to her. Right about now he was thinking it would've been good to have done field training already.
He skidded as he came round the final corner and stumbled onto the battle between Tom and three others. Finding a stray fist heading towards him, he ducked and promptly weaved out of the way only to be blindsided by one of the agent's falling, knocking him into the wall and out cold.