New QAF Fic: Inescapable, NC-17, 2/?
Part 1.
See part one for disclaimer/info.
Many thanks to nel :) *kiss*
Feedback would rock.
*
There was a light source coming from somewhere that hadn't been destroyed. It did little more than illuminate the smoke and Brian coughed again, turning towards the bar.
Or what used to be the bar. Fuck.
Instinct took over: taking care of your own. Fuck everyone else. "Mikey! Ted! Emmett!" God fuck *shit*, it was hard to make out individual faces. Too much smoke, too many people yelling, no one keeping still. The practical thing to do would be to get out, wait for help, but screw being practical when they could be fucking hurt.
He found Ted by literally walking into him, stumbling along with an arm around his 'date'. "Ted!" He barely noticed Brian at first, blinking and shaking his head. Clearly in shock. He didn't look hurt and Brian grabbed his shoulder, trying to get him to focus. "Have you seen the others?"
His shook his head, making a noise. Realising Ted'd be no fucking help in the club, he shoved him towards the exit. "Get out. Make sure someone's called for help." It was probably redundant, but Brian wasn't taking any chances.
Christ, Babylon had never seemed so fucking huge before, not even on his first visit. Now it was just endless. A smoky, blurred void.
There was still more than one person yelling or screaming or crying, but Brian got lucky, close enough to distinguish an individual voice.
"Ben!" a hoarse, unfamiliar voice yelled. "Is there a Ben Bruckner here?"
It was the only clue he'd had until now, and Brian moved towards it. At first he just saw one guy supporting another guy, helping him walk, but then he realised the guy being helped - the guy with the black skin - was Michael. Fuck.
His stomach rolled. "Mikey!" But fuck, as he got closer he could see that his skin hadn't been burnt - it was just black. Like he'd been covered in a thick layer of soot.
The guy helping him lifted his head, his face bearing its own traces of black, and Brian realised he probably looked the same.
"You Ben?"
"No," Brian moved to Mikey's other side, taking half the weight. Christ, Mikey was out cold and weighed a fucking ton - no wonder they'd been moving so slow. "Brian. Best friend. Ben's his husband. Haven't seen him since..." Shit. Not now. He concentrated on getting to the exit, getting Mikey out, and they shuffled forward. It was hard going, and the reason why the guy'd had his head down was obvious - he didn't want to trip the fuck over anything. Where the fuck was help? "He was conscious?"
"Yeah," the guy coughed, wheezing slightly. "Asked for Ben. I thought we'd get to the exit together but he passed out. Don't know where he's hurt."
Brian didn't think about Mikey being hurt. Brian just focused on stepping over everything that littered the floor, and getting outside.
"Brian!" Emmett's voice. "Oh my God, Michael?!" Emmett had been triumphant earlier, obviously pleased to be the night's host. Now he just looked terrified. "Oh my God, is he-?"
"He's alive," Brian grunted, stepping over a piece of metal, really *not* in the mood for Emmett's histrionics right now. "Get outside and tell the first paramedics that get here that we're bringing him out."
"Wait, wait," Emmett said, turning around and looking for someone. "Ben! Ben, I found them!"
The professor arrived then, looking much less perfect than usual - hair in disarray, clothes ruined, face anguished as he looked at Michael. "Oh my God." And very obviously intent on carrying him out of Babylon all by his fucking self.
It was just as well. The rest of them would just slow him down, and the guy who'd been helping Mikey kept wheezing louder and louder.
It was a lot easier to move after Ben had relieved them of Mikey's weight, and as Brian watched him practically race ahead even with the added weight, he'd never been so fucking glad that Ben was built like a fucking monster truck.
The wheezes got worse, the guy hitching for breath. Fuck. This was just what he fucking needed. "What's wrong?" Brian took his arm, helping him around an unidentified mess on the floor. He didn't want to know what the fuck that was.
"Asthma," he gasped. "Been...fucking years. No inhaler."
Shit fuck. "Why the fuck did you stay in here if you used to-?"
"I didn't...fucking *think*." Amazing how he could sound so pissed while he was gasping for breath at the same time. "He...needed help. And I said...hasn't happened...for years."
They got out just as the fire-fighters were coming in.
Outside there were too many people, crushing together. Yelling at them to get the fuck out of the way, Brian grabbed the guy's hand and led him through the crowd until there was space, room to *breathe*. It didn't seem to help any.
He spotted a paramedic climbing out of an ambulance. "Hey! There's someone who can't breathe over here!" Jogging towards the paramedic, he thrust the guy towards him. "Asthma attack. No inhaler." The paramedic instantly got to work.
"Brian!"
Shit, now what?
Turning, he barely registered that Linds was running towards him before she was hugging him.
"Are you okay?" she demanded. "God, Brian, we were right outside when it happened."
Arms going around her, his hand tightened on her jacket. It was fucking lucky that she'd been running late - she'd called him just a few minutes before the explosion. Shit, maybe they were even lucky that Mel was okay as he watched her over Linds' shoulder, arms wrapped around herself.
"Fine," he replied, letting her go. "Mikey was hurt." Her eyes widened. "Don't know how bad. I need to get to the hospital." Turning back to the ambulance he saw the guy sitting on the back of the ambulance, breathing into an oxygen mask, the paramedic encouraging him to take slow, deep breaths. "Linds, can you keep an eye on..." Shit. He didn't even know his name.
"Justin," the paramedic offered, evidently having got that little piece of information out of him.
"Justin," Brian repeated. Bending down, he met his gaze. "I have to go check on Mikey, okay?" Justin nodded, taking another deep breath. "Thanks," Brian said briefly, putting a hand on his shoulder, before standing up and moving away.
Still too many fucking people, and too many lights, but then Brian caught a flash of red that could only be Debbie and ran towards it.
TBC
Next Part
See part one for disclaimer/info.
Many thanks to nel :) *kiss*
Feedback would rock.
*
There was a light source coming from somewhere that hadn't been destroyed. It did little more than illuminate the smoke and Brian coughed again, turning towards the bar.
Or what used to be the bar. Fuck.
Instinct took over: taking care of your own. Fuck everyone else. "Mikey! Ted! Emmett!" God fuck *shit*, it was hard to make out individual faces. Too much smoke, too many people yelling, no one keeping still. The practical thing to do would be to get out, wait for help, but screw being practical when they could be fucking hurt.
He found Ted by literally walking into him, stumbling along with an arm around his 'date'. "Ted!" He barely noticed Brian at first, blinking and shaking his head. Clearly in shock. He didn't look hurt and Brian grabbed his shoulder, trying to get him to focus. "Have you seen the others?"
His shook his head, making a noise. Realising Ted'd be no fucking help in the club, he shoved him towards the exit. "Get out. Make sure someone's called for help." It was probably redundant, but Brian wasn't taking any chances.
Christ, Babylon had never seemed so fucking huge before, not even on his first visit. Now it was just endless. A smoky, blurred void.
There was still more than one person yelling or screaming or crying, but Brian got lucky, close enough to distinguish an individual voice.
"Ben!" a hoarse, unfamiliar voice yelled. "Is there a Ben Bruckner here?"
It was the only clue he'd had until now, and Brian moved towards it. At first he just saw one guy supporting another guy, helping him walk, but then he realised the guy being helped - the guy with the black skin - was Michael. Fuck.
His stomach rolled. "Mikey!" But fuck, as he got closer he could see that his skin hadn't been burnt - it was just black. Like he'd been covered in a thick layer of soot.
The guy helping him lifted his head, his face bearing its own traces of black, and Brian realised he probably looked the same.
"You Ben?"
"No," Brian moved to Mikey's other side, taking half the weight. Christ, Mikey was out cold and weighed a fucking ton - no wonder they'd been moving so slow. "Brian. Best friend. Ben's his husband. Haven't seen him since..." Shit. Not now. He concentrated on getting to the exit, getting Mikey out, and they shuffled forward. It was hard going, and the reason why the guy'd had his head down was obvious - he didn't want to trip the fuck over anything. Where the fuck was help? "He was conscious?"
"Yeah," the guy coughed, wheezing slightly. "Asked for Ben. I thought we'd get to the exit together but he passed out. Don't know where he's hurt."
Brian didn't think about Mikey being hurt. Brian just focused on stepping over everything that littered the floor, and getting outside.
"Brian!" Emmett's voice. "Oh my God, Michael?!" Emmett had been triumphant earlier, obviously pleased to be the night's host. Now he just looked terrified. "Oh my God, is he-?"
"He's alive," Brian grunted, stepping over a piece of metal, really *not* in the mood for Emmett's histrionics right now. "Get outside and tell the first paramedics that get here that we're bringing him out."
"Wait, wait," Emmett said, turning around and looking for someone. "Ben! Ben, I found them!"
The professor arrived then, looking much less perfect than usual - hair in disarray, clothes ruined, face anguished as he looked at Michael. "Oh my God." And very obviously intent on carrying him out of Babylon all by his fucking self.
It was just as well. The rest of them would just slow him down, and the guy who'd been helping Mikey kept wheezing louder and louder.
It was a lot easier to move after Ben had relieved them of Mikey's weight, and as Brian watched him practically race ahead even with the added weight, he'd never been so fucking glad that Ben was built like a fucking monster truck.
The wheezes got worse, the guy hitching for breath. Fuck. This was just what he fucking needed. "What's wrong?" Brian took his arm, helping him around an unidentified mess on the floor. He didn't want to know what the fuck that was.
"Asthma," he gasped. "Been...fucking years. No inhaler."
Shit fuck. "Why the fuck did you stay in here if you used to-?"
"I didn't...fucking *think*." Amazing how he could sound so pissed while he was gasping for breath at the same time. "He...needed help. And I said...hasn't happened...for years."
They got out just as the fire-fighters were coming in.
Outside there were too many people, crushing together. Yelling at them to get the fuck out of the way, Brian grabbed the guy's hand and led him through the crowd until there was space, room to *breathe*. It didn't seem to help any.
He spotted a paramedic climbing out of an ambulance. "Hey! There's someone who can't breathe over here!" Jogging towards the paramedic, he thrust the guy towards him. "Asthma attack. No inhaler." The paramedic instantly got to work.
"Brian!"
Shit, now what?
Turning, he barely registered that Linds was running towards him before she was hugging him.
"Are you okay?" she demanded. "God, Brian, we were right outside when it happened."
Arms going around her, his hand tightened on her jacket. It was fucking lucky that she'd been running late - she'd called him just a few minutes before the explosion. Shit, maybe they were even lucky that Mel was okay as he watched her over Linds' shoulder, arms wrapped around herself.
"Fine," he replied, letting her go. "Mikey was hurt." Her eyes widened. "Don't know how bad. I need to get to the hospital." Turning back to the ambulance he saw the guy sitting on the back of the ambulance, breathing into an oxygen mask, the paramedic encouraging him to take slow, deep breaths. "Linds, can you keep an eye on..." Shit. He didn't even know his name.
"Justin," the paramedic offered, evidently having got that little piece of information out of him.
"Justin," Brian repeated. Bending down, he met his gaze. "I have to go check on Mikey, okay?" Justin nodded, taking another deep breath. "Thanks," Brian said briefly, putting a hand on his shoulder, before standing up and moving away.
Still too many fucking people, and too many lights, but then Brian caught a flash of red that could only be Debbie and ran towards it.
TBC
Next Part