Bombs, Barricades, And All That Follows
Title: Bombs, Barricades, and All That Follows
Words: 1,423
Fandom: Mindless Self Indulgence/Gym Class Heroes (Kitty/Eric)
A/N: Technically set within the 'verse set up in A Still More Glorious Dawn, but stands alone as well. All you need to know is they're in dystopic space (sorta) and things aren't great. MSI and GCH have become unlikely allies in a war against the (mostly) nameless, faceless Cooperative and their (mostly) ruthless Guards; Kitty is MSI's mild-mannered mole and Eric's the explosives man with all the subtlety of Rorschach from Watchmen. Also, they just might actually care about each other. Also also, icanbreakthesky is amazing, and without her there’d be none of this. Also also also, written for girlsavesboyfic. That's all, promise.
Kitty screams along with everyone else.
For once it's not an act. Even though she'd known the explosion was coming weeks in advance, she screams because it's all of three seconds ahead of schedule. She screams because what the Hell was Eric doing, that wasn't enough time, it couldn't have been enough time-
Kitty knows. She's positive. It wasn't enough time.
She pushes past two, three people running the opposite way until she realizes she can't. Kitty stops cold, staring at the smoke still billowing out of the shop front, the dust still swirling and the rubble dropping onto the sidewalk in a million little pieces. It's the middle of the day. She's working. She can't blow her cover. She can't go in and find him, make sure he's okay, she can't-
Everything she can't do goes flying out the window about the same time Eric does.
The Guards are already on him by the time he gets it together enough to get to his feet. He throws a couple elbows, feet slipping on shingles, but Eric’s never been all that good at hand-to-hand; they fight him down to the ground in no time. On their good days, the Guards are efficient in the worst kinds of ways, and they close up ranks around him quickly, blocking him from the public’s view. A part of Kitty’s mind notices there’s a crowd gathering, thinks that’ll be good for her at least, help her blend in and go unnoticed.
Between all the gray and brown and black of the Guards’ uniforms, she can see flashes of dark red, the stain spreading up the side of Eric’s shirt just a little too fast for comfort.
The group of Guards are pushing through the crowd now, going right past her, and just like that she yells, “Excuse me!”
One of the Guards in the middle glances over at her, but they don’t stop. She’s so nervous she can’t feel her feet but apparently they’re moving, hurrying to keep pace with the group and pulling her notepad from her jacket pocket.
“Excuse me!” she repeats, plastering a non-threatening smile on her face and waiting until the same Guard turns to look at her again. “Excuse me, hi, I’m with the Daily Star, the Cooperative’s number one daily newspaper, I was wondering if-“
“No comment,” the Guard says. He turns toward the front again, not before tacking on a “Sorry, ma’am,” and Kitty knows she’s in.
“Oh, but please?” she asks, reaching out halfway for his shoulder, pulling back respectfully at the last minute. He’s watching her out of the corner of his eye, and she looks down and away before turning back. “Y’see, I’m kind of on a deadline, and I’d really love to break this story, and-and I could really use your help.”
She adds a twinge of not-quite-faux desperation to the end of her sentence, looking past the Guard to Eric for just a split-second. His shoulders are hunched and his head’s down, mouth set in a grim smile while one hand’s pressing against the side with the stain. A couple drops of blood have squeezed through his fingers already, dripping down over his knuckles, and it’s all Kitty can do to scribble down whatever it is the Guard-his name is Leo, he says with a smile-is willing to give up.
---
Lindsey’s at the bottom of the hill, standing watch because she doesn’t like the feel of the whole entire thing. Kitty says a silent thank you to whatever or whoever managed to talk Eric’s boys into staying at base for it all. It’s easier when you just have to worry about yourself, Kitty reminds herself. It’s actually a lot smarter, going in alone like this. The more she tells herself, the more she repeats it, the less she actually believes, but it’s better than nothing.
Getting in's not hard; the Guards' routes are like clockwork, no deviations, no change, no surprises. It only takes a couple hours of intel gathering to figure out when and where her opening's going to be and how she's getting there. What the Co-op has in manpower, she thinks, they lack in efficiency; even with at least a dozen Guards patrolling the outside, Kitty counts only two on the inside, making roughly hour-ish loops around the whole place. She can work with an hour.
"Eric!" she hisses.
There's a whistle from one of the cells further down, to the left. "I'll be your Eric, girlie."
"Fuck off, dude," a familiar voice pipes in suddenly. "I'm her Eric."
"For better or dumb ass, or something like that," Kitty whispers to herself. She hurries over to the cell the second voice came from, cringing at the sight before her. "Dammit Roberts, what'd you do?"
"I know it looks bad," Eric starts. "But really, it was just a piece of shrapnel from the window, not the explosion. I landed wrong, but I'll be-"
"You would blow yourself up on a planet with the latest tech." She lifts the lock for a second, dropping it down against the bars again in disgust. "You know what this is?"
“Do I care?” Eric asks, ignoring her question and somehow smirking even as he crawls over to the bars on his hands and knees. “Oh hey, maybe you could get your little Guard buddy Leo to come explain it to me?”
“Really Eric?” she asks, returning her attention to the lock. “Green's not your color. It's a micro-BRD scanner/transmitter, and you should care, it-"
"You really don't think green works for me? With my complexion?"
"Don’t make me regret this before I even get the fuckin’ door open, dude," she threatens, even as she moves away from the lock's keypad momentarily to squat down and peer at him. "How's your side? For reals?"
"Lemme put it nicely for you: I don't think it's infected beyond repair yet."
"When we get back, we'll have Jimmy check it out, alright? He'll take care of you."
"Awesome," Eric mutters, scooting back slowly as Kitty stands and switches tactics, putting away her scrambler and pulling a screwdriver out of her pack. "Dude calls himself Urine, let's let him go digging around inside me."
"Like you haven't had worse things inside you. Watch out."
"Low blow, and not for a while now anyway, and hey, watch the sparks," Eric snaps as he pulls himself a little further back from the bars. "You trying to set me on fire?"
With a short, shrill buzz, the lock starts beeping. Loudly.
"Shit," Kitty mumbles, dropping the screwdriver.
"There aren't supposed to be sparks, are there?"
"Nope!" she pastes a smile on her face, trying not to let her nerves show even though she knows Eric'll see through it. "Plan B!"
"What's Plan-bolt cutters," Eric actually pulls himself onto his knees, struggling to stand up before glaring at her. "You wouldn't make bolt cutters Plan A? Instead you decided to go with oh, let's waste time fiddling around with the highly sensitive transmitter dealy lock thing and-"
The lock hits the floor with an echoing thud, beeping loudly in protest. Kitty catches Eric's eye for a second or two, until the lock starts beeping again from its spot on the floor. Kitty brings one foot up and down swiftly, glad she wore her heavy boots; the lock practically bursts under her heel, scattering pieces every which way across the hall. There's an almost surprising amount of satisfaction accompanying the lock's last feeble beeps as she lifts her foot and turns back to the business at hand.
"And you," Kitty says quietly, sliding the door open slowly. The hall's gone silent again, no beeps, no footsteps, nothing. Once the door's far enough along she's moving quickly, lifting one of Eric's arms around her shoulders and putting most of his weight on her despite his protests. "You could have set up a remote-detonation for that last job."
"And where's the fun in that? Hey-" Eric mutters, reaching up for her cheek almost immediately. He turns her head and leans in, kissing her quickly. "God I love you. And by the way-thanks."
Kitty grins. "Love you too, and you're welcome. Now. We're gonna go straight out the back doors, fast as we can, but quiet. And please try not to get caught again."
Eric frowns as they hobble out of the cell, heading away from the main entrance. "I didn't get caught, jeez...I just, you know, fucked up the calculations a little."
"Pfft. Yeah. Right. A little. C'mon."
Words: 1,423
Fandom: Mindless Self Indulgence/Gym Class Heroes (Kitty/Eric)
A/N: Technically set within the 'verse set up in A Still More Glorious Dawn, but stands alone as well. All you need to know is they're in dystopic space (sorta) and things aren't great. MSI and GCH have become unlikely allies in a war against the (mostly) nameless, faceless Cooperative and their (mostly) ruthless Guards; Kitty is MSI's mild-mannered mole and Eric's the explosives man with all the subtlety of Rorschach from Watchmen. Also, they just might actually care about each other. Also also, icanbreakthesky is amazing, and without her there’d be none of this. Also also also, written for girlsavesboyfic. That's all, promise.
Kitty screams along with everyone else.
For once it's not an act. Even though she'd known the explosion was coming weeks in advance, she screams because it's all of three seconds ahead of schedule. She screams because what the Hell was Eric doing, that wasn't enough time, it couldn't have been enough time-
Kitty knows. She's positive. It wasn't enough time.
She pushes past two, three people running the opposite way until she realizes she can't. Kitty stops cold, staring at the smoke still billowing out of the shop front, the dust still swirling and the rubble dropping onto the sidewalk in a million little pieces. It's the middle of the day. She's working. She can't blow her cover. She can't go in and find him, make sure he's okay, she can't-
Everything she can't do goes flying out the window about the same time Eric does.
The Guards are already on him by the time he gets it together enough to get to his feet. He throws a couple elbows, feet slipping on shingles, but Eric’s never been all that good at hand-to-hand; they fight him down to the ground in no time. On their good days, the Guards are efficient in the worst kinds of ways, and they close up ranks around him quickly, blocking him from the public’s view. A part of Kitty’s mind notices there’s a crowd gathering, thinks that’ll be good for her at least, help her blend in and go unnoticed.
Between all the gray and brown and black of the Guards’ uniforms, she can see flashes of dark red, the stain spreading up the side of Eric’s shirt just a little too fast for comfort.
The group of Guards are pushing through the crowd now, going right past her, and just like that she yells, “Excuse me!”
One of the Guards in the middle glances over at her, but they don’t stop. She’s so nervous she can’t feel her feet but apparently they’re moving, hurrying to keep pace with the group and pulling her notepad from her jacket pocket.
“Excuse me!” she repeats, plastering a non-threatening smile on her face and waiting until the same Guard turns to look at her again. “Excuse me, hi, I’m with the Daily Star, the Cooperative’s number one daily newspaper, I was wondering if-“
“No comment,” the Guard says. He turns toward the front again, not before tacking on a “Sorry, ma’am,” and Kitty knows she’s in.
“Oh, but please?” she asks, reaching out halfway for his shoulder, pulling back respectfully at the last minute. He’s watching her out of the corner of his eye, and she looks down and away before turning back. “Y’see, I’m kind of on a deadline, and I’d really love to break this story, and-and I could really use your help.”
She adds a twinge of not-quite-faux desperation to the end of her sentence, looking past the Guard to Eric for just a split-second. His shoulders are hunched and his head’s down, mouth set in a grim smile while one hand’s pressing against the side with the stain. A couple drops of blood have squeezed through his fingers already, dripping down over his knuckles, and it’s all Kitty can do to scribble down whatever it is the Guard-his name is Leo, he says with a smile-is willing to give up.
---
Lindsey’s at the bottom of the hill, standing watch because she doesn’t like the feel of the whole entire thing. Kitty says a silent thank you to whatever or whoever managed to talk Eric’s boys into staying at base for it all. It’s easier when you just have to worry about yourself, Kitty reminds herself. It’s actually a lot smarter, going in alone like this. The more she tells herself, the more she repeats it, the less she actually believes, but it’s better than nothing.
Getting in's not hard; the Guards' routes are like clockwork, no deviations, no change, no surprises. It only takes a couple hours of intel gathering to figure out when and where her opening's going to be and how she's getting there. What the Co-op has in manpower, she thinks, they lack in efficiency; even with at least a dozen Guards patrolling the outside, Kitty counts only two on the inside, making roughly hour-ish loops around the whole place. She can work with an hour.
"Eric!" she hisses.
There's a whistle from one of the cells further down, to the left. "I'll be your Eric, girlie."
"Fuck off, dude," a familiar voice pipes in suddenly. "I'm her Eric."
"For better or dumb ass, or something like that," Kitty whispers to herself. She hurries over to the cell the second voice came from, cringing at the sight before her. "Dammit Roberts, what'd you do?"
"I know it looks bad," Eric starts. "But really, it was just a piece of shrapnel from the window, not the explosion. I landed wrong, but I'll be-"
"You would blow yourself up on a planet with the latest tech." She lifts the lock for a second, dropping it down against the bars again in disgust. "You know what this is?"
“Do I care?” Eric asks, ignoring her question and somehow smirking even as he crawls over to the bars on his hands and knees. “Oh hey, maybe you could get your little Guard buddy Leo to come explain it to me?”
“Really Eric?” she asks, returning her attention to the lock. “Green's not your color. It's a micro-BRD scanner/transmitter, and you should care, it-"
"You really don't think green works for me? With my complexion?"
"Don’t make me regret this before I even get the fuckin’ door open, dude," she threatens, even as she moves away from the lock's keypad momentarily to squat down and peer at him. "How's your side? For reals?"
"Lemme put it nicely for you: I don't think it's infected beyond repair yet."
"When we get back, we'll have Jimmy check it out, alright? He'll take care of you."
"Awesome," Eric mutters, scooting back slowly as Kitty stands and switches tactics, putting away her scrambler and pulling a screwdriver out of her pack. "Dude calls himself Urine, let's let him go digging around inside me."
"Like you haven't had worse things inside you. Watch out."
"Low blow, and not for a while now anyway, and hey, watch the sparks," Eric snaps as he pulls himself a little further back from the bars. "You trying to set me on fire?"
With a short, shrill buzz, the lock starts beeping. Loudly.
"Shit," Kitty mumbles, dropping the screwdriver.
"There aren't supposed to be sparks, are there?"
"Nope!" she pastes a smile on her face, trying not to let her nerves show even though she knows Eric'll see through it. "Plan B!"
"What's Plan-bolt cutters," Eric actually pulls himself onto his knees, struggling to stand up before glaring at her. "You wouldn't make bolt cutters Plan A? Instead you decided to go with oh, let's waste time fiddling around with the highly sensitive transmitter dealy lock thing and-"
The lock hits the floor with an echoing thud, beeping loudly in protest. Kitty catches Eric's eye for a second or two, until the lock starts beeping again from its spot on the floor. Kitty brings one foot up and down swiftly, glad she wore her heavy boots; the lock practically bursts under her heel, scattering pieces every which way across the hall. There's an almost surprising amount of satisfaction accompanying the lock's last feeble beeps as she lifts her foot and turns back to the business at hand.
"And you," Kitty says quietly, sliding the door open slowly. The hall's gone silent again, no beeps, no footsteps, nothing. Once the door's far enough along she's moving quickly, lifting one of Eric's arms around her shoulders and putting most of his weight on her despite his protests. "You could have set up a remote-detonation for that last job."
"And where's the fun in that? Hey-" Eric mutters, reaching up for her cheek almost immediately. He turns her head and leans in, kissing her quickly. "God I love you. And by the way-thanks."
Kitty grins. "Love you too, and you're welcome. Now. We're gonna go straight out the back doors, fast as we can, but quiet. And please try not to get caught again."
Eric frowns as they hobble out of the cell, heading away from the main entrance. "I didn't get caught, jeez...I just, you know, fucked up the calculations a little."
"Pfft. Yeah. Right. A little. C'mon."