Take Me Down With You - Chapter 5: Such Small Creatures
Take Me Down With You - Chapter 5: Such Small Creatures
See Warnings on Chapter 1
Go back to Chapter 4
Chapter 5 - Such Small Creatures
Alec was tired and angry and hurt. And tired of being angry and hurt. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore. He didn’t want to care about them anymore. He had always been alright until he met Max and her do-gooder boyfriend. He hadn’t really cared about anything or anyone, he thought, trying to convince himself that Rachel Berrisford was an anomaly, one that had since been programmed out of him, so how had he let those two in? He was always on the outside.
The more he walked, the more he stewed.
Logan used to call him psychotic. Max had never respected him. Why did Alec like them again? Sure, Max was designed to be hot. Designed, in fact, to be his mating partner, so he sort of understood that biologically he wanted her physically. But why Logan? He was an Ordinary. He was ordinary. He was just human. Alec never wanted to be a hero so why did Logan seem almost larger than life sometimes? Because of Max? Because Max preferred Logan to Alec? They certainly preferred each other over spending time with Alec.
And that left Alec out.
Even when they weren’t together, Alec had been on the outside. Once the virus had been cured, Alec had held some small hope for forgiveness and compassion. He just didn’t realize that was never going to be enough when he had gotten it and gotten their friendship.
Friendship. That was a laugh. Friendship wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted so much more and it was eating him up alive.
He wanted what they had. He wanted them but they only wanted each other. Fine - then he wouldn’t want them anymore. He was better than them. He could become anything he wanted to become - it’s what he was trained for.
He’d become someone that didn’t want or need them. He would harden his heart against them. He could almost feel it happening within him as he walked. The anger was brewing as if it were a living thing and he could feel it undulating under his skin.
But even as he hardened - a rage boiled in him; scalding him inside his cool, porcelain exterior. How dare they not want him? How dare they look at each other like that?
He would take them down. He would destroy what they had. If he couldn’t have it, they wouldn’t either.
He reached up to scratch an itch on his right arm and realized the scale that Logan had seen on his neck was not isolated. There were several on his arm.
Suddenly his rage flamed out and he felt exhausted. He sat down on the curb trying to figure out his next step. He needed to figure out what was wrong with him and only the Doctor guy seemed to know anything. He’d have to go back. He’d have to go back to them.
And he found he wanted to. He couldn’t hate them. He couldn’t bring himself to leave them. Not yet at least. Maybe once he was well he’d rethink his strategy.
He was about to get up when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
He convulsed as a million images ran through his mind. Images of Weeping Angels throughout the galaxy and of how they fed off time. Of how they were called the lonely assassins; much like Alec felt like himself during most of his existence. How empty they were; how they longed to become more. Of how they found a crack between worlds and slid through in search of something to make them greater.
He also saw a million images of Crowley and the demonic essence housed within him and the eons they had existed. How he controlled purgatory and damned a hundred thousand souls. He saw an image of himself - older, more worn, hung in a cage in the burning flames and tortured beyond sanity. How he himself had become a torturer. And yet - it wasn’t him. It wasn’t him, but he could feel a struggle within him that longed to feed on that pain. It was a darkness longing to express himself. He felt like he was being torn apart but all he wanted was to tear others apart.
‘You are the one. You can lead us to a new existence.’ The voices, low and harsh in his head, but not him. Outside of him. A collection of voices. The Angels were talking as one. Another voice stood out as if yelling from a different side of the room. It looked like Crowley and it was equally as loud and just as damning. Angels and Demon fed Alec images of how he could make Hell on Earth and how he would be worshipped as a God - like Logan and Max should have done all along.
They fed him images of Max and Logan being tortured and his enjoyment of it. Of him torturing them himself and the rush of power and adrenaline that rushed through him as they screamed for mercy. Alec tried to fight the overwhelming images. A small voice inside him insisted this was not what Alec truly wanted - but that voice was drowned out as he was shown images of Max and Logan at his side for eternity doing whatever he wanted them to do. How he eventually became the center of their universe, their attention all on him. And he wanted it. The longing consumed him as he imagined them writhing underneath him, exclaiming their devotion, screaming his name in pain and in pleasure.
He saw other humans bowing to him and his minions, the newly christened Angels with their demonic hosts sharing the bounty the humans had to offer.
That’s all humans were for them - cattle, food. Their souls fed the Demon; their actual existence in time fed the Angels.
His own memories forced to the surface - of all the things Manticore had done to him and how he’d been treated as nothing more than a weapon. He felt the anger and rage as he remembered watching Logan and Max make love, oblivious to his existence.
“I love you, Max.”
“Back at ya, Logan.”
Suddenly he could see them through the skylight as he’d been watching them earlier, but now they were in the living room, just as he’d left them, Logan was looking up at him, the others scurrying around. They looked so small…so puny compared to what he was being offered.
A small voice, his own, saw their fear and could hear their echoes. He was seeing them through his connection with the Angels.
“Such small creatures,” Alec muttered. “You will be mine.”
---
“What do you mean, ‘don’t blink’?” Max asked.
“That’s how they move. They can only move when you aren’t looking at them. But you blink, you could die.”
“How do you keep from blinking?” Logan asked, still holding his temple. The blood was drying on his face and hands, but he hadn’t had any time to get a paper towel. Max’s eyes flicked down to Logan’s thighs and he knew she had seen the marks she had left behind. She mouthed ‘I’m sorry,’ to him. Logan smiled at her with a nod, reassuring her everything was okay.
“Well, there are four of us. We won’t all blink at the same time,” the Doctor said.
“Bloody brilliant plan. So we just don’t move - until when? Our necks get a crick? Then what - they kill us? What is it they want?” Crowley asked. He was sitting with his head resting against the back of the seat cushion, looking up.
“Where the Hell did they come from?” Max asked.
“They’re not from Hell, sweetheart. I’d know,” Crowley answered. “And they aren’t like any Angels I’ve met either.”
“You know Angels?” Logan asked, trying very hard to stay composed. He felt like they landed in WhackoWorld or maybe he’d just gone insane. He did suffer from a blow to his head.
“Yeah - not quite the cuddly, fluffy kind you kids make up, but they aren’t that ugly either. Well - maybe Zachariah is. Sort of reminds me of the Angelic version of Grumpy Cat.”
They all turned to stare at Crowley until they realized their mistake. Looking back, one of the Weeping Angels was in the room and was now about 20 feet away from the group - reaching out towards them, a hideous countenance on its frozen face.
“Okay, who has never heard of Grumpy Cat? Do you not use the internet?” Crowley muttered as he stood up, staring at the intruder.
“How did that get in here?” Logan asked. It wasn’t possible for it to have moved that fast without falling, but if it had fallen, why wasn’t it shattered in a million pieces? It was obviously made of stone. Logan almost closed his eyes and stopped himself at the last moment. Maybe he’d hit his head harder than he thought and he was actually unconscious and these were just delusions.
“And without shattering?” Max added, echoing Logan’s thoughts.
“They’re quantum-locked. They don’t exist when they are being observed but when they are seen, they become stone. And when they are not being observed - they are fast. You turn your back - and boom - they’re right there.”
“Doesn’t sound like the Angels I know,” Crowley observed.
The Doctor turned to Crowley. “Crowley, these aren’t like any Angels you’ve ever met because you’re not where you’re supposed to be. Your Angels are of your world - just of a different plane of existence. These Angels are aliens but they are not in your universe. At least I don’t think they are,” the Doctor said, a little hesitantly as if he were unsure.
“Yeah, you mentioned something like that before. What does that mean?” Crowley asked.
The Doctor ran his hand through his hair and paced quickly around the room. “Okay - short version - and don’t stop watching them,” he barked.
Logan couldn’t help but be freaked out by how ugly the visages were that were looking down at them, but he complied as he listened to the Doctor.
“There’s a crack. Well - there was a crack in the universe. I think there’s still a crack and it let you slip through.”
“There’s a crack, alright,” Max muttered.
“Funny, now you sound just like Alec. How appropriate.” The Doctor stopped to look up again and stared at the monstrosities above them.
“The Weeping Angels feed on time. They touch you, you go back in time. Or at least the ones I know do that. But here - here they may be different. Maybe they feed on possibilities? Or maybe it’s still time but since time cracked - there’s more time to feed on? Or maybe they also slipped through the crack and they are the same ones I know. Not sure that makes sense. I’m a Time Lord - this should make sense.”
“I’m sure that doesn’t make sense,” Logan said, looking to Max, who looked equally baffled.
The Doctor turned to Crowley. “Think of the door you and Castiel opened to Purgatory that let the Leviathans in. By the way, bad idea, that. I was in your universe the first time they were let out. It was a bitch to trap them.” He began pacing again, waving his hands around as he spoke. “Anyways - the Crack is just like that - a doorway, a portal - only instead of between Purgatory and Earth, it’s between Earth 1 and Earth 2.”
“Parallel Universes, is that what you’re getting at?” Crowley asked, seemingly calm at the suggestion that what the Doctor was saying could be possible.
“Yes! Yes - of course you would understand that!”
“Well, I don’t,” Logan said.
“No time to explain now. We need to find a place to regroup, somewhere they can’t follow,” the Doctor said. “But how do we keep them from following?” he muttered.
“They can’t move if something’s looking at them?” Max asked, not looking away from the skylight.
“Correct.”
“So we have to find a way to keep looking at them while we move. Does it have to be human?” Max asked.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you can get your dog to be that well trained.” Crowley said.
The Doctor ignored him and looked at her. “No. I’m not human. And many of the other worlds they consumed did not have humans. But sentient. I would say it would have to be sentient. They have to believe they are being watched.”
Logan spotted something on the floor. Something that gave him an idea. He walked over and picked it up off the floor.
“Even if it’s each other?” Logan asked.
The Doctor nodded.
“Would mirrors work?” Logan asked, picking up the mirrored sunglasses that had fallen out of Alec’s jacket earlier and showing them to the group.
“YES! You’re brilliant,” the Doctor exclaimed. “It won’t last long, but it should buy us time. Do you have three more pairs?”
“No - but we only have this one statue. The ones up there are all have the same eyeline,” he said pointing from the skylight to the center of the circle the four of them had unconsciously made.
“There could be others,” Crowley muttered. He was still keeping a wary eye on the one that had entered the room.
“You got a better idea, jackass?” Max asked.
Crowley shrugged, seemingly unoffended at Max’s outburst.
“Max, go grab the mirror from the closet. It should be large enough to lay flat on the floor,” Logan explained.
Max ran off to grab the mirror and yelled out “All clear,” from the bedroom indicating there were no Angels in the room.
“What about this one?” Crowley asked.
“Right. We need a way to prop the mirrored sunglasses up directly at its face. I’m all out of portable mirrors.”
“Don’t suppose you have a handy mannequin around, do you?” the Doctor asked.
“We could leave Crowley behind to glare at it,” Max said on the way back into the room. “Here, hold this,” she said to the Doctor as she held up the large rectangular mirror that had been hanging on the back door of Logan’s closet.
Logan remembered when she had brought it over, complaining that of all the things Logan had, he really needed a full length mirror. She hated when he wore overly baggy pants and tried to get him to dress up on occasion. He remembered laughing when Alec suggested she really wanted to attach it to the ceiling over the bed instead. He also remembered that first night he met her and how they stood in front of the mirror he had had at his old apartment and how beautiful she had been to him as they both gazed into that mirror.
She had thrown some clothes and shoes on while she’d been in the back. She handed him an outfit and a pair of slip-on sneakers before moving to shove the couch to the side to make room for the mirror on the floor. Logan continued staring up at the Angels as he slid an old Oxford shirt over his shoulders. He didn’t bother to button it.
“Not a full-body mannequin, but…”
“Right,” Max said. “I’ll go get it.”
She ran back into the bedroom. She came out with a half form mannequin.
“Alec was right. You are two kinky birds,” Crowley quipped.
“We used it in a mission,” Logan answered as he struggled to pull on his pants without looking away from the Angels. He was surprised to feel a belt was already hanging off the loops; Max must have picked up the pants he’d worn earlier that day and he hadn’t bothered to put the belt away. Like the shirt, he left the belt undone.
Even though the mirror should be working, he didn’t want to chance looking away from the Angels until they were ready to run. He’d managed it fairly well and had even been able to slip on the shoes half decently. He was just grateful his legs were working well at the moment. No time for the exoskeleton.
He could hear Max shoving a table across the floor. He couldn’t see what they were doing as he was trying to focus on the Angels above him. He started to get tunnel-vision and felt a little dizzy.
“Such small creatures. You will be mine.”
Logan heard Alec’s voice in his head and he shivered. It was faint and distant - but he sounded so cold, almost cruel. Logan was suddenly very afraid.
“Did you say something?” Max asked.
Logan realized the Angels were inching their way closer since he couldn’t help from blinking, Max was busy and Crowley was focused on the one in the room. He didn’t know what the Doctor was looking at.
“Doctor, I need help.”
“Sonic screwing going on,” the Doctor said and Logan could hear a slight high-pitched whining.
“Well, we’d better move fast, because I can’t not blink anymore.” He started to black out. He felt Max’s arms catch him before he hit the floor.
“Down to the tunnels, now,” Max yelled.
---
Go to Chapter 6
See Warnings on Chapter 1
Go back to Chapter 4
Chapter 5 - Such Small Creatures
Alec was tired and angry and hurt. And tired of being angry and hurt. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore. He didn’t want to care about them anymore. He had always been alright until he met Max and her do-gooder boyfriend. He hadn’t really cared about anything or anyone, he thought, trying to convince himself that Rachel Berrisford was an anomaly, one that had since been programmed out of him, so how had he let those two in? He was always on the outside.
The more he walked, the more he stewed.
Logan used to call him psychotic. Max had never respected him. Why did Alec like them again? Sure, Max was designed to be hot. Designed, in fact, to be his mating partner, so he sort of understood that biologically he wanted her physically. But why Logan? He was an Ordinary. He was ordinary. He was just human. Alec never wanted to be a hero so why did Logan seem almost larger than life sometimes? Because of Max? Because Max preferred Logan to Alec? They certainly preferred each other over spending time with Alec.
And that left Alec out.
Even when they weren’t together, Alec had been on the outside. Once the virus had been cured, Alec had held some small hope for forgiveness and compassion. He just didn’t realize that was never going to be enough when he had gotten it and gotten their friendship.
Friendship. That was a laugh. Friendship wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted so much more and it was eating him up alive.
He wanted what they had. He wanted them but they only wanted each other. Fine - then he wouldn’t want them anymore. He was better than them. He could become anything he wanted to become - it’s what he was trained for.
He’d become someone that didn’t want or need them. He would harden his heart against them. He could almost feel it happening within him as he walked. The anger was brewing as if it were a living thing and he could feel it undulating under his skin.
But even as he hardened - a rage boiled in him; scalding him inside his cool, porcelain exterior. How dare they not want him? How dare they look at each other like that?
He would take them down. He would destroy what they had. If he couldn’t have it, they wouldn’t either.
He reached up to scratch an itch on his right arm and realized the scale that Logan had seen on his neck was not isolated. There were several on his arm.
Suddenly his rage flamed out and he felt exhausted. He sat down on the curb trying to figure out his next step. He needed to figure out what was wrong with him and only the Doctor guy seemed to know anything. He’d have to go back. He’d have to go back to them.
And he found he wanted to. He couldn’t hate them. He couldn’t bring himself to leave them. Not yet at least. Maybe once he was well he’d rethink his strategy.
He was about to get up when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
He convulsed as a million images ran through his mind. Images of Weeping Angels throughout the galaxy and of how they fed off time. Of how they were called the lonely assassins; much like Alec felt like himself during most of his existence. How empty they were; how they longed to become more. Of how they found a crack between worlds and slid through in search of something to make them greater.
He also saw a million images of Crowley and the demonic essence housed within him and the eons they had existed. How he controlled purgatory and damned a hundred thousand souls. He saw an image of himself - older, more worn, hung in a cage in the burning flames and tortured beyond sanity. How he himself had become a torturer. And yet - it wasn’t him. It wasn’t him, but he could feel a struggle within him that longed to feed on that pain. It was a darkness longing to express himself. He felt like he was being torn apart but all he wanted was to tear others apart.
‘You are the one. You can lead us to a new existence.’ The voices, low and harsh in his head, but not him. Outside of him. A collection of voices. The Angels were talking as one. Another voice stood out as if yelling from a different side of the room. It looked like Crowley and it was equally as loud and just as damning. Angels and Demon fed Alec images of how he could make Hell on Earth and how he would be worshipped as a God - like Logan and Max should have done all along.
They fed him images of Max and Logan being tortured and his enjoyment of it. Of him torturing them himself and the rush of power and adrenaline that rushed through him as they screamed for mercy. Alec tried to fight the overwhelming images. A small voice inside him insisted this was not what Alec truly wanted - but that voice was drowned out as he was shown images of Max and Logan at his side for eternity doing whatever he wanted them to do. How he eventually became the center of their universe, their attention all on him. And he wanted it. The longing consumed him as he imagined them writhing underneath him, exclaiming their devotion, screaming his name in pain and in pleasure.
He saw other humans bowing to him and his minions, the newly christened Angels with their demonic hosts sharing the bounty the humans had to offer.
That’s all humans were for them - cattle, food. Their souls fed the Demon; their actual existence in time fed the Angels.
His own memories forced to the surface - of all the things Manticore had done to him and how he’d been treated as nothing more than a weapon. He felt the anger and rage as he remembered watching Logan and Max make love, oblivious to his existence.
“I love you, Max.”
“Back at ya, Logan.”
Suddenly he could see them through the skylight as he’d been watching them earlier, but now they were in the living room, just as he’d left them, Logan was looking up at him, the others scurrying around. They looked so small…so puny compared to what he was being offered.
A small voice, his own, saw their fear and could hear their echoes. He was seeing them through his connection with the Angels.
“Such small creatures,” Alec muttered. “You will be mine.”
---
“What do you mean, ‘don’t blink’?” Max asked.
“That’s how they move. They can only move when you aren’t looking at them. But you blink, you could die.”
“How do you keep from blinking?” Logan asked, still holding his temple. The blood was drying on his face and hands, but he hadn’t had any time to get a paper towel. Max’s eyes flicked down to Logan’s thighs and he knew she had seen the marks she had left behind. She mouthed ‘I’m sorry,’ to him. Logan smiled at her with a nod, reassuring her everything was okay.
“Well, there are four of us. We won’t all blink at the same time,” the Doctor said.
“Bloody brilliant plan. So we just don’t move - until when? Our necks get a crick? Then what - they kill us? What is it they want?” Crowley asked. He was sitting with his head resting against the back of the seat cushion, looking up.
“Where the Hell did they come from?” Max asked.
“They’re not from Hell, sweetheart. I’d know,” Crowley answered. “And they aren’t like any Angels I’ve met either.”
“You know Angels?” Logan asked, trying very hard to stay composed. He felt like they landed in WhackoWorld or maybe he’d just gone insane. He did suffer from a blow to his head.
“Yeah - not quite the cuddly, fluffy kind you kids make up, but they aren’t that ugly either. Well - maybe Zachariah is. Sort of reminds me of the Angelic version of Grumpy Cat.”
They all turned to stare at Crowley until they realized their mistake. Looking back, one of the Weeping Angels was in the room and was now about 20 feet away from the group - reaching out towards them, a hideous countenance on its frozen face.
“Okay, who has never heard of Grumpy Cat? Do you not use the internet?” Crowley muttered as he stood up, staring at the intruder.
“How did that get in here?” Logan asked. It wasn’t possible for it to have moved that fast without falling, but if it had fallen, why wasn’t it shattered in a million pieces? It was obviously made of stone. Logan almost closed his eyes and stopped himself at the last moment. Maybe he’d hit his head harder than he thought and he was actually unconscious and these were just delusions.
“And without shattering?” Max added, echoing Logan’s thoughts.
“They’re quantum-locked. They don’t exist when they are being observed but when they are seen, they become stone. And when they are not being observed - they are fast. You turn your back - and boom - they’re right there.”
“Doesn’t sound like the Angels I know,” Crowley observed.
The Doctor turned to Crowley. “Crowley, these aren’t like any Angels you’ve ever met because you’re not where you’re supposed to be. Your Angels are of your world - just of a different plane of existence. These Angels are aliens but they are not in your universe. At least I don’t think they are,” the Doctor said, a little hesitantly as if he were unsure.
“Yeah, you mentioned something like that before. What does that mean?” Crowley asked.
The Doctor ran his hand through his hair and paced quickly around the room. “Okay - short version - and don’t stop watching them,” he barked.
Logan couldn’t help but be freaked out by how ugly the visages were that were looking down at them, but he complied as he listened to the Doctor.
“There’s a crack. Well - there was a crack in the universe. I think there’s still a crack and it let you slip through.”
“There’s a crack, alright,” Max muttered.
“Funny, now you sound just like Alec. How appropriate.” The Doctor stopped to look up again and stared at the monstrosities above them.
“The Weeping Angels feed on time. They touch you, you go back in time. Or at least the ones I know do that. But here - here they may be different. Maybe they feed on possibilities? Or maybe it’s still time but since time cracked - there’s more time to feed on? Or maybe they also slipped through the crack and they are the same ones I know. Not sure that makes sense. I’m a Time Lord - this should make sense.”
“I’m sure that doesn’t make sense,” Logan said, looking to Max, who looked equally baffled.
The Doctor turned to Crowley. “Think of the door you and Castiel opened to Purgatory that let the Leviathans in. By the way, bad idea, that. I was in your universe the first time they were let out. It was a bitch to trap them.” He began pacing again, waving his hands around as he spoke. “Anyways - the Crack is just like that - a doorway, a portal - only instead of between Purgatory and Earth, it’s between Earth 1 and Earth 2.”
“Parallel Universes, is that what you’re getting at?” Crowley asked, seemingly calm at the suggestion that what the Doctor was saying could be possible.
“Yes! Yes - of course you would understand that!”
“Well, I don’t,” Logan said.
“No time to explain now. We need to find a place to regroup, somewhere they can’t follow,” the Doctor said. “But how do we keep them from following?” he muttered.
“They can’t move if something’s looking at them?” Max asked, not looking away from the skylight.
“Correct.”
“So we have to find a way to keep looking at them while we move. Does it have to be human?” Max asked.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you can get your dog to be that well trained.” Crowley said.
The Doctor ignored him and looked at her. “No. I’m not human. And many of the other worlds they consumed did not have humans. But sentient. I would say it would have to be sentient. They have to believe they are being watched.”
Logan spotted something on the floor. Something that gave him an idea. He walked over and picked it up off the floor.
“Even if it’s each other?” Logan asked.
The Doctor nodded.
“Would mirrors work?” Logan asked, picking up the mirrored sunglasses that had fallen out of Alec’s jacket earlier and showing them to the group.
“YES! You’re brilliant,” the Doctor exclaimed. “It won’t last long, but it should buy us time. Do you have three more pairs?”
“No - but we only have this one statue. The ones up there are all have the same eyeline,” he said pointing from the skylight to the center of the circle the four of them had unconsciously made.
“There could be others,” Crowley muttered. He was still keeping a wary eye on the one that had entered the room.
“You got a better idea, jackass?” Max asked.
Crowley shrugged, seemingly unoffended at Max’s outburst.
“Max, go grab the mirror from the closet. It should be large enough to lay flat on the floor,” Logan explained.
Max ran off to grab the mirror and yelled out “All clear,” from the bedroom indicating there were no Angels in the room.
“What about this one?” Crowley asked.
“Right. We need a way to prop the mirrored sunglasses up directly at its face. I’m all out of portable mirrors.”
“Don’t suppose you have a handy mannequin around, do you?” the Doctor asked.
“We could leave Crowley behind to glare at it,” Max said on the way back into the room. “Here, hold this,” she said to the Doctor as she held up the large rectangular mirror that had been hanging on the back door of Logan’s closet.
Logan remembered when she had brought it over, complaining that of all the things Logan had, he really needed a full length mirror. She hated when he wore overly baggy pants and tried to get him to dress up on occasion. He remembered laughing when Alec suggested she really wanted to attach it to the ceiling over the bed instead. He also remembered that first night he met her and how they stood in front of the mirror he had had at his old apartment and how beautiful she had been to him as they both gazed into that mirror.
She had thrown some clothes and shoes on while she’d been in the back. She handed him an outfit and a pair of slip-on sneakers before moving to shove the couch to the side to make room for the mirror on the floor. Logan continued staring up at the Angels as he slid an old Oxford shirt over his shoulders. He didn’t bother to button it.
“Not a full-body mannequin, but…”
“Right,” Max said. “I’ll go get it.”
She ran back into the bedroom. She came out with a half form mannequin.
“Alec was right. You are two kinky birds,” Crowley quipped.
“We used it in a mission,” Logan answered as he struggled to pull on his pants without looking away from the Angels. He was surprised to feel a belt was already hanging off the loops; Max must have picked up the pants he’d worn earlier that day and he hadn’t bothered to put the belt away. Like the shirt, he left the belt undone.
Even though the mirror should be working, he didn’t want to chance looking away from the Angels until they were ready to run. He’d managed it fairly well and had even been able to slip on the shoes half decently. He was just grateful his legs were working well at the moment. No time for the exoskeleton.
He could hear Max shoving a table across the floor. He couldn’t see what they were doing as he was trying to focus on the Angels above him. He started to get tunnel-vision and felt a little dizzy.
“Such small creatures. You will be mine.”
Logan heard Alec’s voice in his head and he shivered. It was faint and distant - but he sounded so cold, almost cruel. Logan was suddenly very afraid.
“Did you say something?” Max asked.
Logan realized the Angels were inching their way closer since he couldn’t help from blinking, Max was busy and Crowley was focused on the one in the room. He didn’t know what the Doctor was looking at.
“Doctor, I need help.”
“Sonic screwing going on,” the Doctor said and Logan could hear a slight high-pitched whining.
“Well, we’d better move fast, because I can’t not blink anymore.” He started to black out. He felt Max’s arms catch him before he hit the floor.
“Down to the tunnels, now,” Max yelled.
---
Go to Chapter 6