fourteen ✪ voice

[imfollowinghim]

[Anyone on the second floor (or first or third, really) might have heard a couple gunshots, shattering glass and other signs of a fight not too soon before Bucky's post. Then there's another gunshot, and silence for a couple seconds before quiet voices start up - C'rizz and Bucky.

A while later, a post's on the network. Bucky's panting and his voice is hoarse and strained, either because he's exhausted or in a hell of a lot of pain (it's both), but he manages to let everyone know what the hell was going on anyway.]

Zane's dead. [That's it. That's all he wants to say about it, and it kind of seems like he's going to leave it at that before he bites out:]

We need fucking call signs or passwords next time this happens.

[And then clicks the comm off so he can figure out how he's getting to the infirmary, because he is definitely not being carried.]

Comments

Voice

[punched_hitler]

Where are you?

[Yeah, he'll save all the chatter for when he knows you're okay.]

Voice

[imfollowinghim]

Relax, it turns out we're like, ten feet away from the infirmary.

[It might be an exaggeration, it might not, but he's headed there now anyway.]

Did you get him?

Voice

[punched_hitler]

Good. [Whether it's true or not, Steve lets out a breath. That's a relief - although not much of one, because Bucky clearly needs it, if that's where he's headed.]

Yeah. We got him. I don't know what we'll get out of him though.

I'll be right down. [There are people he leave in charge of this guy.

Also, Steve is a very fast runner. Which he is doing now.]

Spam

[imfollowinghim]

[Usually, Bucky is too. Not Steve fast, obviously, but fast.

Right now, though, he's keeping his right hand against the door frame of the infirmary trying to catch his breath, which is hard to do when he's pretty sure Zane busted a rib, maybe two. Or three. His left hand's tucked awkwardly in his jacket pocket, and he's still got his gun in his right, just in case.

And despite knowing he's probably got some kind of concussion, he still whips around to look when he hears footsteps behind him. He manages a smile that's maybe a little guilty.]

Hey.

Spam

[punched_hitler]

[Steve's pulling off his helmet as he rounds the corner - he almost pulls up short, when he sees Bucky in the hallway, but instead puts on one last burst of speed so he can get over there and give him a hand - if he needs it. He'll pull up right beside Bucky and look, if you need someone or something to balance on, use him, please. He won't say a word - well, except,] Ten feet, huh?

Voice

[voluntaryapnea]

[Stiles has been sitting at Allison's bedside since Scott carried her in. She's still dead. It's been hours, and there's no sign so far that the death toll is kicking in. Her face is unnaturally pale, skin cool to the touch. He's barely said two words, and his own face is paler than usual, expression blank. Maybe he's in shock still.

He hears Bucky's voice announcing that Zane is dead.

Good, he thinks immediately. It's probably terrible. Both because Bucky's probably the one who put him down, and because Zane was probably infected with the gas like he had been. He wasn't himself. Stiles can't scrape up a single iota of sympathy for the latter. He doesn't have the energy to try. Zane killed Allison. That's all that he can think right now.]

Are you all right?

Voice

[imfollowinghim]

[Look, he's not judging. He's mad as hell that it had to happen, but if he'd been in Stiles' shoes? If it was Steve who was killed? There would be no room for feeling bad, or guilty.

As it is though? He knows it had to happen, but he does feel shitty about it. He's got nothing against Zane. This is going to have to be one awkward apology.]

I've been better. [But he's also been a lot worse, which Stiles knows.]

You still in the infirmary?

Voice

[voluntaryapnea]

[Maybe it'd be different if he actually knew Zane. His entire knowledge of the guy is now that Zane has a pregnant rabbit, and that he apparently has some kind of superpower thing going on.

He does feel a spike of worry at the admission that Bucky's been better. He sits up a little, closing his eyes and pressing a hand to his gut.]

Yeah. You on your way here?

Voice

[imfollowinghim]

Yeah. [He's not really sure what else to say. His head hurts and it hurts to breathe, and he's creeping along slowly enough that he's going to be an easy target for anyone else wandering around outside the infirmary.

(Except he still has three more bullets in his sidearm, and he's not exactly in the mood to hesitate when it comes to using those.)]

Steve's coming. You'd better stay put. [The joke/order falls a little flat, if only because he still sounds a little out of it.]

Voice

[voluntaryapnea]

Good. [He glances toward the door as if expecting Bucky to show up any second, but he figures he's probably farther away than that. He's relieved to hear that Steve is coming to help Bucky, because Scott is helping Jack and Allison is dead and Lydia...he shuts his eyes.]

Yeah, staying put. Wouldn't be much help right now anyway. [Not like last time.]

[voice]

[notsoneedy]

Are you coming in to get checked out? [She's just guessing, but it sounds like he's hurt.]

Because if so, I'll see you soon.

[She's already there.]

[voice]

[imfollowinghim]

Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming in. [Whether or not it's under his own power is up in the air, but hey. He is making an effort to not black out.]

What happened?

[voice]

[notsoneedy]

What, to me? Nothing. Nothing really, I...heard some of my friends were hurt, and I wanted to see them.

[And stumbled through some fading drugs and broken glass to do it. Yeah, Jack probably wasn't letting her leave again afterward, even if she had wanted to.]

[voice]

[imfollowinghim]

[Nope, this is a case where he's almost happy to be playing den mother to you kids.]

Good. It crowed in there?

[voice]

[notsoneedy]

Not sooo much, but. I'll bet it will be. Once they start carting people in.

[You know, now that the ship itself is back to normal and it's safe again to go about.]

audio

[mirrortouch]

[ That's... unfortunate. He'd grown to appreciate Zane, if not like him. He was interesting. He was new to Will. ]

I heard the gunshots.

You weren't hit, were you?

audio

[imfollowinghim]

I was the one doing the shooting.

[He says it flatly, almost without emotion or inflection, which could be the head injury, but. It's not, really. It's just a thing that happened, and Zane will be back.]

audio

[mirrortouch]

[ Ah. Different. ]

Any other injuries to report?

[ Hungry for details, as always; the empathy is still present in his voice, but he's strangely clinical about it to match Bucky's tone. ]

audio

[imfollowinghim]

You better not be planning on finishing me off. [There's some faint, sharp humor there, because he's kidding, but he's also walking wounded and will shoot anyone who tries to finish the job.]

Zane threw me into the wall a couple times, I'll be fine.

audio

[mirrortouch]

Zane did. Started it?

[ Almost a question. Not quite so rehabilitated as you initially thought you were, were you, Zane? ]

I don't want to finish you off. [ A bit darkly, but it's almost a joke. An attempt at one, anyway. ] You're one of the ones who hasn't - pissed me off in some way, really.

[fridgetothefire]

They don't work. Memory and trustworthiness change independently of each other.

[Quiet, bitter. She's thought through this, hates the futility of it. And Zane is - a good friend. She holds that back, as much as she can.]

Can you tell me what happened?

[imfollowinghim]

Trust me, he wasn't fucking remembering a password.

[He's bitter too, because this whole thing has been ridiculous, and he's hurt and angry and tired of seeing his friends getting caught in the crossfire, and it's familiar and alien all at once. And he hates it.]

He tried to beat me to death in a hallway and I shot him. C'Rizz distracted him long enough for me to do it.

[fridgetothefire]

Next time someone's evil, they will. Or someone will forget their own mother but still be on your sign. The point of call-signs and passwords is to be reliable.

Thank you.

[imfollowinghim]

I fucking know all of that, Anya. [Which might have been snapped at her under slightly different circumstances, but as things are, he just sounds exhausted and bitter.] We can argue about how dumb my suggestions are when I'm not bleeding out of my ears, alright?

[fridgetothefire]

I'm sorry. I just meant - it's not your fault for not having a system already. It's not anybody's.