FIC: Past Today 5/5
Dec. 27th, 2014 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dollarformynameAlec wakes to the unpleasant feeling of blood rushing to his head. The world is bouncing in a kind of lazy, haphazard and very much upside-down way.
And that’s Ben’s ass in his face.
Ben’s weaving around like he’s had a whole bar to drink, Alec curled rather lopsidedly over his shoulder and dangerously close to sliding off, and there’s a trail of blood behind them, little drops and huge smears marking Ben’s zigzagging passage. They’re in the tunnels now, he can tell that plainly enough from the thick darkness and stale earth smells, but the memory of everything that must’ve happened after being trapped in the janitor’s closet is sketchy.
He vaguely recalls a rickety little utility ladder, crawling through the ceiling and then maybe falling on his head. There’s a whole lot of nothing after that, so, apparently, he passed out like a total jackass and, aside from being mortified, he’s also got to deal with the prospect of Ben thinking he’s easy prey.
Alec writhes weakly, the rest of his body waking up and bringing all the bright, ugly pain with it. "Lemme down," he slurs, careful, so as not to encourage his stomach to try hurling itself out through his mouth.
Startled, Ben stumbles a little, his unburdened shoulder thumping hard against the wall. He let out an anguished whine, knees crashing gracelessly into the dirt, and Alec does slide off, then.
"Christ," Alec moans, flopping over onto his side. His skull feels fit to shatter any second. He glares over at Ben, but his ire immediately shifts to worry when he sees how pale Ben is.
He’s shiny with sweat and breathing too raggedly, eyelids drooping as he fights to not fall face-down and stay that way. Alec’s stomach clenches at the sheer amount of blood soaking through Ben’s clothes, but it’s not worry for Ben so much as for himself. Knowing what he knows now, Ben deserves nothing more than for Alec to leave him here to bleed out in the dark, alone and forgotten, but Alec isn’t familiar enough with the tunnels to navigate them on his own. Like it or not, he needs Ben alive and generally upright.
Alec scrambles to sit up. His own pain is nothing to scoff at, but it doesn’t take him long to realize he’s not quite as bad off as he remembers.
A cursory investigation of himself reveals that the wound in his shoulder has been reopened, but it’s also been meticulously cleaned and rebandaged. Alec has a very hazy, fever-dream type of recollection of being viciously jarred out of beautiful oblivion and screaming his throat raw while his shoulder felt like it was being pried apart with razors, a snapshot mercifully cut short by the blackout that returned to claim him. Ben must have finally decided to dig the bullet out while Alec was being all cooperative and unconscious. His thigh looks about the same, though the bullet had gone straight through, so Ben didn’t have to go rooting around for that one.
Ben blinks fast and pouts like he’s just been awoken from his afternoon catnap, batting Alec’s hands away when he tries to get at his injuries to see exactly how bad they are. "We have to get farther," Ben pants out, struggling to get a one-handed grip on the wall so he can pull himself back to his feet. He’s pretty much failing. "We need," he glares at the wall like it’s doing this to him to be spiteful, "more distance."
Alec hesitates. He’s not sure how far they’ve come, obviously, or if White and the police have had enough time to figure out there are no more live bodies in the building, but Ben’s not going to last much longer like this. Then again, if they’re too near the entrance, and Ben makes any … distressed noises, that won’t do them any favors, either.
"Fine," Alec sighs, standing. He wobbles a little but gets himself sorted out after a minute. Leans down to hook his arms under Ben’s shoulders to haul him up. He’s not gentle about it, resolutely ignoring Ben’s pained whimpers as he shuffles them both around until they’re in a position better suited for walking.
There’s nothing but the sluggish drag of their footsteps and Ben’s harsh breathing for a while. Ben is tense and trembling a little on Alec’s arm, but it doesn’t all seem to be physical discomfort. He keeps shooting Alec these hurried, uneasy glances out of the corner of his eye when he thinks Alec’s not paying attention, and it doesn’t take long for Alec to get fed up.
"What?"
Ben’s whole body jerks, head dropping to stare fixedly at the ground. One foot in front of the other, slow, slow, so freaking slow, and finally he says, "You’re mad?" voice rising a little at the end like he can’t help but make it a question even though he seems to know for a fact it’s true.
It’s not like Alec’s keeping it a secret. His face hurts from scowling so hard. "You’re surprised?"
Ben licks his lips slowly. "I don’t," he pauses, pulling in another shaky breath. "I don’t know what I did?" Another statement turned question, his expression all boyish innocence and a little fear, and that’s just.
It’s downright galling, is what it is. Ben is un-fucking-believable. Alec stares at him.
Ben keeps looking at his feet.
"You’re one conniving son of a bitch," Alec bites out, turning his attention back to the darkness ahead. Among other things, he’s pretty sick and goddamn tired of watching Ben lie to his face with his own face.
Ben’s voice, when it comes, is thin and high. Alec refuses to be moved. "What?"
"All that nonsense before? All your ‘Oh, Alec, you’re so good and noble, and I’m a bad, bad man, please teach me your ways?’ You were full of shit." Alec clenches his teeth so hard the tension knifes up through his jaw and births a new world of pain in his skull. His fingers tighten around the wrist he’s using to keep Ben’s arm around his shoulder. Ben flinches with the intensity of it but Alec doesn’t let up. "You don’t care about doing what’s right. Sure, maybe you want help blending in a little better because you have that escaped mental patient vibe going on. But being less of a murderer? That’s not what you want at all."
Ben’s breathing gets even more erratic, and he starts actively trying to pull away. Almost immediately, though, he slams into reverse when the battle becomes more about not falling over.
Alec hangs on, stubborn and becoming steadily more pissed off. "If you pass out right now, so help me, I will leave your ass."
There’s a sharp inhale like Alec just suckerpunched him before Ben steadies himself, drawing in slower, more deliberate breaths. "What," he starts. Stops. "What is it you think I want, then?"
"A partner," says Alec, fairly sure he’s figured this part out well enough. "You only said that crap because you thought it was the only way I’d agree to hang out with you."
"What can I say," Ben sneers, total one-eighty, and Alec is startled into looking over at him again. He’s eyeing Alec like he’s some dumb, slow creature who’s lucky he’s been allowed to live this long. "Your awesomeness is irresistible like that."
Alec recognizes enough of himself in his twin to know a defense mechanism when he sees it. Still, he has to marvel at how quickly and effortlessly Ben has switched gears. "You’re a lot more devious than I gave you credit for."
Ben shrugs, a little of that derision giving way to something like relief. Alec guesses it must be exhausting, all that pretending. It’s not like he’s never had to do it for a mission, but he wasn’t wrestling with his own insanity at the same time. Doesn’t make him any less angry about it. "It’s not just me, anyway. You don’t like being alone either."
Alec almost laughs outright. He tempers it enough that it comes out as only a mildly contemptuous snort. "If I was that desperate for a sidekick there are about a thousand other people I’d pick over you."
"That is patently untrue."
Ben sounds so smug about it that Alec can’t help but issue the challenge: "Enlighten me."
"Anyone stuck with you would be doomed. That’s how you think, isn’t it?" says Ben, and it’s right about then that Alec’s idle thoughts of throwing Ben on the ground and leaving him there start to merit more serious consideration. "That being around you is some kinda punishment? Being around me is worse, though, and you believe it’s better if you’re the one being punished."
Alec is stunned enough by that answer to fail to come up with a decent rebuttal. The fact that Ben seems to know him so well when it’s become painfully clear he knows so little about Ben infuriates him almost as much as it scares the hell out of him.
"Tell me I’m wrong."
"You’re wrong," Alec obliges him. Then he not-so-accidentally trips a little bit, jarring Ben violently enough that he chokes back a yelp. "And an asshole."
They don’t have much to say to each other after that.
-:-
They hobble along in tense silence for what feels like forever. Ben seems to have settled into a nice little sulk but he’s given up trying to get Alec to talk about his feelings, which is just awesome as far as Alec is concerned.
Everything is awesome.
They’re far, far away from the bad men and their bad guns and all the bad weather, and they’ve made some decent headway, Alec thinks, because he’s thinking positively. He doesn’t have a watch or any kind of view of the sky to help him judge time very effectively, and the tunnel looks the same as it did a million miles ago, but if he doesn’t look on the bright side of something after the day he’s had, he’s going to join Ben in the Brotherhood of Lost Marbles.
"Alright, pit stop," Alec says decisively when they’ve reached the point where Ben isn’t so much walking as being dragged around like a carcass.
They’ve also reach a fork in the road, so to speak, the tunnel branching off in three different directions, and Alec needs Ben’s input for this part.
Ben doesn’t appear altogether with it anymore, though. His eyes are fully closed now, skin pale as winter and almost as cold, though he does mumble some kind of response to let Alec know he heard him. It might be a protest but if Ben’s going to be all incoherent then Alec gets to interpret it however he likes.
Alec lowers him so that’s he’s sitting propped up against the crumbling wall. "Hey." He pats at Ben’s cheek, and Ben’s eyes flutter open briefly before crashing shut again. "We talked about naptime," Alec says, giving him a firmer pat. Might be more of a slap but whatever. Ben’s eyes stay open a little longer that time. "You can’t have one until we’re well and truly fled. Come on, wake up. Tell me more about your wacky stalking hijinks."
He swallows when that gets Ben’s attention, half-lidded eyes glittering weakly in the dark and peering intently at him. Probably wasn’t the best idea to remind them both so openly that he’s stuck down here for who knows how long with a serial killer who may or may not have been lying about every single thing he’s said to him so far.
Distracting himself with his total lack of medical supplies seems the way to go, so Alec does. When Ben patched him up he evidently didn’t think to bring whatever he used along for the ride, and all Alec really has to work with are Ben’s own clothes and a pair of huge hunting knives that aren’t ideal for precise surgical procedures.
"Better than nothing," Alec declares, and proceeds to strip his twin of his jacket and shirt.
Ben doesn’t resist, doesn’t really help either, just keeps looking at him while Alec maneuvers his ragdoll limbs this way and that.
Giving into his curiosity, and hoping to make Ben quit with the creepy staring while also keeping him alert with conversation, Alec asks, "Was any of it true?"
He sets Ben’s hoodie aside carefully and tries not to choke on the overwhelming copper scent that comes wafting out into the open. Reaches for Ben’s shirt and realizes it’s a lost cause as soon as he touches it; it’s so sodden with blood it feels like it could squish apart in his hands.
It still has to come off, though, so he sucks it up and curls his fingers under the sticky hem, peeling it up slowly.
"Manticore?" Alec prods, though Ben is clearly not up for talking back. "The Blue Lady?"
It only gets more disturbing as he goes. It’s not just the starkness of so much red, red blood set against the ghostly pallor of Ben’s skin, it’s the entire state of him. Alec had thought the scars were the worst of it, that the gut shot and kaleidoscopic bruises spanning his ribcage would come in at a close second, but the way his ribs stand out—the vivid, uncompromisingly skeletal picture of what someone who is wasting away actually looks like—that’s what gets him.
"Shit," Alec breathes softly. He almost wants to feel insulted at how poorly Ben has taken care of himself. They’re identical in nearly every way, and seeing his own body in such disrepair blindsides Alec in a way he hadn’t expected. When he rifles through the hoodie’s pockets and finds the food he’d tossed Ben as a parting gift that morning, he despairs. "When’s the last time you fucking ate anything?"
He isn’t expecting a response, but Ben mumbles, "I got distracted," kind of defensively, and that doesn’t make Alec feel any better.
"Jesus. You’re so much more hopeless than I thought."
Looking at the chips and soda, Alec’s own stomach practically howls. The rate his body goes through calories is insane; he can’t imagine going days and days without something to eat. He could if he had to, he knows that, but he’d never endure it willingly, and he certainly wouldn’t forget how awesome eating is.
He unscrews the soda cap and tips it to Ben’s mouth. "Drink," he orders. "Sugar has all kinds of magical properties, trust me. You’ll be bouncing off the walls in no time."
Ben makes a face like he doesn’t see the appeal of that, but he obeys. Alec is careful, not letting too much soda drip down the sides of Ben’s mouth and go to waste, but it's not a perfect set-up they have going and Ben’s chin is an inevitable mess by the time he’s finished drinking half of it.
"Good?" he asks as Ben lets out a satisfied little sigh.
Ben nods and says, "Yeah," like he’s surprised.
Alec despairs some more. "Don’t tell me you’ve never had any."
"Not that kind. It didn’t seem like it’d be good."
"Grape is delicious," Alec assures, and takes a couple sips himself to prove the irresistible nature of it. He screws the cap back on, saving the rest, wipes Ben’s hands off as best he can and then sets him to the task of eating the chips while he busies himself shredding the hoodie into more manageable strips.
The more food he gets in him, the more Ben seems to perk up, which is both a blessing and a curse. The gunshot wounds aren’t as bad as they could be but tending to them isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park. The slug he took in the gut is more off to the side than Alec figured, right above his hipbone, and there’s another one just over that, too close to his ribs. Neither of them looks like it was a clean shot and they’re both bleeding like crazy but they don’t appear to have hit anything vital and Ben isn’t showing signs of organ failure, so that’s something. There’s another big, unsightly gash up near his clavicle that looks like a bullet glanced off after smashing the bone underneath to smithereens. Nothing go fishing for in there, but piecing the collarbone back together is still going to be straight-up awful to deal with. Alec kind of feels bad that Ben doesn’t get to be unconscious for this like he was, then feels annoyed about feeling bad, then decides Ben inspires too many complicated feelings and he should just stop thinking and get it over with.
He’s getting ahead of himself, anyway. Ben can’t afford to lose anymore blood—Alec’s going to have to miracle a transfusion out of thin air if those holes don’t stop leaking in the next few minutes—so hacking into him with a hunting knife to retrieve the bullets isn’t feasible.
First things first, Alec fashions a sling out of some bigger strips of cloth and sets to work immobilizing the arm nearest Ben’s broken collarbone.
"It was true," Ben grunts, finally answering Alec’s earlier question to distract himself as Alec nudges at him to find better angles. "They did try to fix me."
Alec glances up to encourage him to go on, even if he's not sure he wants to hear it anymore. All it's doing right now is reminding him how betrayed he feels, and how much he hates that he can feel betrayed by someone he doesn’t even like.
"They figured out pretty quickly that it wasn't anything brain surgery and re-indoctrination could correct," says Ben. "Not all the way. I know the Lady was just an excuse," he admits, face twisting up like it's still torture after all this time to acknowledge it, "but that just left me wanting to kill indiscriminately instead of making sacrifices. They decided to try and refocus that."
"If they couldn't control their rabid attack dog they at least wanted to aim you at the right targets," Alec realizes, grimacing. "Sounds like them." For a bunch of brilliant mad scientists and head spies, Manticore's staff were never very bright when it came to knowing which projects they should just give up on. "I'm guessing it backfired."
"Kinda. I—" Ben slams his eyes shut and whimpers pretty pitifully when Alec pulls the sling tight. Alec persists because dawdling will only make it worse, tying it off so it’s pressed firmly against the wound and keeping Ben’s arm pinned so securely he’ll be lucky to feel his fingers for much longer. Ben takes a couple of steadying breaths and continues, "I mean, I am refocused. Just not how they were hoping."
"Who were they trying to get you to go after?"
"You. Us."
"Transgenics?" Alec frowns, motioning Ben into a better position for bandaging his midsection.
Ben nods, slowly scooting forward and turning sideways. "After the fire at the Seattle facility." He rests his free arm on Alec’s shoulder to get it out of the way. "I wasn't there but I overheard them complaining about all their secrets escaping into the wild and how it'd be more efficient to just wipe them out than to try for recapture. They couldn’t dumb me down enough so that I wouldn't draw the obvious conclusions, though. Killing all transgenics included me, and after they took the Lady from me," Ben’s words fade on a growl before picking back up, "I wasn't okay with self-destructing once I'd completed my mission."
"You turned on them," Alec says more than asks, flashing back to all those uniformed bodies upstairs.
"I do care, a little. Not the same way you do, and probably not as much, but." Ben hisses through his teeth, pausing to adjust to the new and undoubtedly agonizing sensation of Alec jamming a wad of cloth against the worst of the two punctures in his torso. His fingers dig into Alec’s shoulder as he breathes through it, and Alec makes quick work of wrapping it into place, tight as he can get it without damaging Ben’s ribs any more.
"I'm not interested in sparing the people who want us dead," Ben manages through the pain. I don’t care if they call me a monster." He looks at Alec pointedly and says, gentler, "We’re soldiers. It’s not our job to make it easy for them."
"I don’t need survival lessons from you," Alec snarls.
"I wasn’t implying you did."
Alec takes a beat to calm down, aware that he got little defensive there. He doesn’t need gentle reminders from Ben about what he is, is all. He knows damn well.
He goes on to repeat the process of plugging up the remaining bullethole, trying not to be rougher than he needs to just because he’s annoyed. Again. "So, when you said you didn't kill Dalton?"
"I wasn't lying about that. I never lied about any of it, I just. Left some things out," says Ben, more cautious now, like he’s tiptoeing through a minefield, and that gets Alec’s undivided attention. "I know I'm messed up, I'm not an idiot. And maybe I could learn to be ... I dunno, better somehow? I'm not totally against it. But it's not a priority. I've come to terms with what I am."
Alec doesn’t reply to that right away. He resumes tying off the last makeshift bandage and sits back, taking Ben in again. For all his subterfuge, Ben isn’t always as convincing as he thinks. If he’s come to terms with what he is, really and truly, and hasn’t just resigned himself to being some irreparable mistake, Alec will eat his own foot.
It’s not Alec’s problem to work through, though, and so he asks, "What if I can't?"
"Then you can't. I don't know what to tell you." Ben gives a one-shouldered shrug, not meeting Alec’s eyes. "I won't be happy about it but I'm not gonna force you to stay."
"And you won't stalk me anymore?"
"I didn't say that." Ben smirks shakily. "I can give you space, but I can't promise I won't check in on you from time to time. Make sure you're not starting more riots in big cities, that kind of thing."
"Bite me."
"You just need so much looking after, little brother."
Alec rolls his eyes and stands. "I hate you."
"You want to," Ben allows. "But you really don't."
Alec blinks. He’s not fond of how Ben just randomly spews out uncomfortable truths like that and he almost retracts the hand he’d halfway offered to help Ben up. He extends it against his better judgment (though, honestly, he’s not sure he has any better judgment left after all this), and Ben releases one long, miserable groan as he’s pulled to his feet. Alec steadies him with a hand on his chest, mindful of his injuries.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Which way?" Alec asks, motioning at the two unending channels of darkness in front of them, then at another, smaller tunnel to their right.
Ben looks uncertain again, more lost little psycho than evil mastermind. He's exasperatingly good at it; even now, Alec can't tell if it's an act or a genuine part of his personality that he's learned how to use to his advantage but can't always control.
"Depends."
Alec’s not in the mood for this game, so he sticks to more specific questions. He points at the smaller tunnel. "Where does that one lead?"
"Up," Ben says simply. "This one goes down. That one goes down too, but it connects to other buildings and tunnels that stretch further out to the edge of the city."
"Supplies?"
"There's an underground walkway with lots of stores through there." Ben flaps a hand at the smaller tunnel again, all kinds of grumpy about it. "Looks like they were abandoned in a hurry. Most of them still have stuff."
"This the only way?"
"It's scattered all around the Loop so there are a few ways in and out."
"Huh," Alec grunts, thinking.
He knows the choice he's being offered here. He blew his one chance of getting out of the city already, no way hijacking another car is going to work again, but if he chooses to head aboveground he could go back to retrieve the money he stashed earlier and probably find someplace else to hide until the heat dies down.
He bites his lip. "So if we keep going we can stock up closer to where we want to hole up?"
Ben's eyes go big and hopeful. "Yeah."
This has got to top the long, long list of very stupid decisions Alec's made in his life. He starts limping again, straight ahead and deeper underground. "Let's do that, then. I'm not carrying a bunch of extra weight around until I have to."
"Really?" Ben breathes out so quietly that anyone who isn’t a transgenic would’ve missed it.
Alec doesn’t turn back to give him the mocking look he deserves, but Ben gets over expecting an answer to a dumb question almost before he’s finished asking it, scrambling unsteadily to catch up.
The hush that falls as they haltingly conquer inch by excruciating inch of tunnel can’t quite be labeled comfortable this time around, but it’s not packed with as much hostility either. Alec is worn down and ready to drop and gives his brain permission to check out for a bit, while Ben seems afraid to breathe too loud for fear of ruining the fragile truce between them.
They make it to the walkway closer to where they want to be, or so Alec assumes because Ben straightens up a little from his oh-god-my-innards-are-filled-with-spikes slouch, and wearily raises a hand to point at a simple wooden door set into the wall. It's faded and cracked over time but it looks like any other door Alec has walked through, and it's not locked.
He quickly discovers that locks don't matter because it opens to a brick wall.
"Well, that's … kind of anticlimactic," he mutters, kicking halfheartedly at it.
"No, look," says Ben, coming forward to push at one of the big gray blocks in the center. There's a loud scraping sound and a little puff of cement dust as it slides inward, clattering loudly to the floor on the other side. "We can replace them when we come back through. No one will ever know we were here."
"Smart," Alec concedes, and Ben smiles dimly.
They start making a hole big enough to climb through, which turns out to lead to another basement. It's huge and empty but suspiciously free of cobwebs, and Alec is starting to get a better idea of where they are now. There's a section of abandoned retail buildings that have come under renovation and construction in the last couple of years, which means this building is likely to have signs of life—some janitorial staff, at the very least.
Ben doesn't seem too concerned with the noise, though, so Alec keeps an eye out and follows him through to another wall, and another opening. Alec can see through to the other side of this one, a rectangular space large enough to fit a car through that opens up to more darkness, blocked off with a metal sliding gate. It's chained up tight.
Or maybe not.
Ben lifts up the gate with a wince, revealing the chain to be just for show as it falls free with a clamor. Alec is reluctantly impressed and a little confused. He wonders if Ben just dedicated weeks of walking around down here to rendering all obstacles useless and disguising them. It seems like so much foresight for someone who forgets to feed himself on a regular basis.
He doesn't have the time or energy to dwell on that as Ben leads him into what is, as promised, a walkway. It reminds him of an old mall or airport: long and wide with tiled floors, defunct ceiling lights and smooth walls lined with stores and kiosks and restrooms, all of it thickly filmed with dust. Some of the stores have been hastily ransacked and picked clean, but there are plenty still stocked high with merchandise, even if they are mostly a mess.
"I'll go for food and meds, if there are any," Alec decides, because while neither of them are really up for much heavy lifting, Ben looks fit to fold under the slightest breeze and Alec wants to make sure the more crucial job is done right. "You see about finding clean clothes and a better hat." He eyes Ben critically, frowning in distaste before snatching the offending beanie off his head so he can't conveniently forget to replace it. Alec makes a mental note to find a lighter and burn it ASAP. "And maybe a cordless shaver and some batteries or something. Stuff to help you look less like a deranged hobo."
Ben pouts, rubbing self-consciously at his scarred head, and blinks slowly. His eyes are ringed a deep purple and it takes him a minute to fully register what Alec just said.
Sluggishly, he makes his way toward what appears to be a pre-Pulse souvenir shop, clumsily plucking things off the toppled racks. He finds a couple of cheap-looking duffel bags to shove his spoils into. "Have you thought about where you wanna go when we get out?" he asks on a wide yawn, clearly looking for some chit-chat to keep him awake.
Alec fills a canvas bag with junk food, heedless of the expiration dates. "Anywhere but here."
"Canada? I've heard—"
"Not Canada," Alec interrupts quickly.
"Okay," drawls Ben, confused.
"I know the rumors and I'm not interested," Alec says, then sighs, realizing his aversion to the Great White North is about ten times more complicated than before, now that he's saddled with Ben.
It’s true enough that he is very much not interested in trying to find some happy ending only to have his hopes shattered. Even if the safe haven turned out to be real, they'd probably ruin it all by looking to him for answers again. Might expect him to resume old roles and rally the troops in return for room and board. Ben is enough to deal with at one time.
Which is kinda the bigger problem.
Ben’s not exactly going to fit in, even with other transgenics. Alec considered Max one of his best friends and respected her opinions most of the time, but there are too many ex-TC residents who’ve developed an almost fanatical devotion to her and her ideals. If they find out what Ben has done, well.
It won’t be pretty, to say the least.
Thinking of Max, Alec feels something in his gut turn over, that big old bundle of guilt getting restless. He can't pretend he understands what she would want now, never seemed to be able to please her a hundred percent, but he thinks she'd want him to help Ben. That she'd be happy with that. Still—
"I should kill you." It's the first time Alec's said it aloud. It lacks the same conviction it did in his head. "For what you did to Max."
Ben stands there with his one good hand full of travel-sized deodorant and toothpaste and shampoo. He's visibly mitigating his annoyance at Alec bringing this up again but he doesn’t look worried. "She did the same for me. It only seemed fair."
That's when Alec makes the distinction. It was a gift, as far as Ben's concerned, not revenge. It's how pack hunters take care of each other—weak, hurt, kill—putting a suffering pack member of its misery. If Ben is capable of loving anything, Alec believes Max would be one of the few he’d deem worthy. It clicks for him, then.
"I won't do that for you," Alec decides once and for all, some of the weight falling off his shoulders as he turns back to his task. He doesn't have it in him to end anyone's suffering when he's been forced to endure it on his own for so long. If he's gotta drag broken pieces around while he chases these warped illusions of freedom and living, Ben can break his back trying to haul the load, too. Alec's all about sharing.
"I know. Me, either. I'm all out of generosity and you're kind of a dick, anyway."
Alec feels something in his chest loosen, and smirks. "I'm just getting started, big brother." Turns back around and points at a tipped-over vending machine down the corridor. "Now go get me some candy before I do something unseemly to your toiletries."
THE END
Don't forget to check out the art!
A/N 2: The stuff about the tunnels is not really accurate because I've never been in them. The Pedway and CTA tunnels are up and running but I obviously used the Pulse to make them all abandoned. And a lot of the other tunnels are not readily accessible, as far as I can tell. It's pretty much a little bit of research mixed with a whole lot of making stuff up. I hope it doesn't bother anyone too much. I stumbled across this when I was looking up ... something. I can't remember. Anyway, I thought it was pretty awesome and decided to throw that in here, though I really feel that someone who is better at all this writing nonsense should do something cooler with it.
Acknowedgements: A million and one thanks go to—
My wonderfully talented and fantastic artist,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amberdreams, who made pretty, pretty pictures that had no small part in kicking my ass into gear because PRETTY, and everyone should go ogle her art post and tell her so. She's also just a really sweet, fun person to know.
My awesome beta2blueshoes who pulled no punches and actually helped me figure out where the heck I was going with some of this. Any remaining mistakes are my own, and if something is terrible it's probably because I neglected to take her advice while I was all crazy and distracted with reaching the finish line.
My very essential cheerleaderchiiyo86, who kept me on the ball and listened to all my whining and basically went above and beyond. Without her, I would've procrastinated like nobody's business and probably would've lost my mind completely.
The fabulous![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
darkangel_bb mod denyce for tirelessly loving this fandom and keeping this challenge alive for those of us who still want to play.
You guys are all amazing people and you should feel amazing. Thank you so much for existing in this little fandom and helping me finish this thing. No small feat, because I haven't finished a writing thing in years, it feels like. Especially nothing this long. \o/
And that’s Ben’s ass in his face.
Ben’s weaving around like he’s had a whole bar to drink, Alec curled rather lopsidedly over his shoulder and dangerously close to sliding off, and there’s a trail of blood behind them, little drops and huge smears marking Ben’s zigzagging passage. They’re in the tunnels now, he can tell that plainly enough from the thick darkness and stale earth smells, but the memory of everything that must’ve happened after being trapped in the janitor’s closet is sketchy.
He vaguely recalls a rickety little utility ladder, crawling through the ceiling and then maybe falling on his head. There’s a whole lot of nothing after that, so, apparently, he passed out like a total jackass and, aside from being mortified, he’s also got to deal with the prospect of Ben thinking he’s easy prey.
Alec writhes weakly, the rest of his body waking up and bringing all the bright, ugly pain with it. "Lemme down," he slurs, careful, so as not to encourage his stomach to try hurling itself out through his mouth.
Startled, Ben stumbles a little, his unburdened shoulder thumping hard against the wall. He let out an anguished whine, knees crashing gracelessly into the dirt, and Alec does slide off, then.
"Christ," Alec moans, flopping over onto his side. His skull feels fit to shatter any second. He glares over at Ben, but his ire immediately shifts to worry when he sees how pale Ben is.
He’s shiny with sweat and breathing too raggedly, eyelids drooping as he fights to not fall face-down and stay that way. Alec’s stomach clenches at the sheer amount of blood soaking through Ben’s clothes, but it’s not worry for Ben so much as for himself. Knowing what he knows now, Ben deserves nothing more than for Alec to leave him here to bleed out in the dark, alone and forgotten, but Alec isn’t familiar enough with the tunnels to navigate them on his own. Like it or not, he needs Ben alive and generally upright.
Alec scrambles to sit up. His own pain is nothing to scoff at, but it doesn’t take him long to realize he’s not quite as bad off as he remembers.
A cursory investigation of himself reveals that the wound in his shoulder has been reopened, but it’s also been meticulously cleaned and rebandaged. Alec has a very hazy, fever-dream type of recollection of being viciously jarred out of beautiful oblivion and screaming his throat raw while his shoulder felt like it was being pried apart with razors, a snapshot mercifully cut short by the blackout that returned to claim him. Ben must have finally decided to dig the bullet out while Alec was being all cooperative and unconscious. His thigh looks about the same, though the bullet had gone straight through, so Ben didn’t have to go rooting around for that one.
Ben blinks fast and pouts like he’s just been awoken from his afternoon catnap, batting Alec’s hands away when he tries to get at his injuries to see exactly how bad they are. "We have to get farther," Ben pants out, struggling to get a one-handed grip on the wall so he can pull himself back to his feet. He’s pretty much failing. "We need," he glares at the wall like it’s doing this to him to be spiteful, "more distance."
Alec hesitates. He’s not sure how far they’ve come, obviously, or if White and the police have had enough time to figure out there are no more live bodies in the building, but Ben’s not going to last much longer like this. Then again, if they’re too near the entrance, and Ben makes any … distressed noises, that won’t do them any favors, either.
"Fine," Alec sighs, standing. He wobbles a little but gets himself sorted out after a minute. Leans down to hook his arms under Ben’s shoulders to haul him up. He’s not gentle about it, resolutely ignoring Ben’s pained whimpers as he shuffles them both around until they’re in a position better suited for walking.
There’s nothing but the sluggish drag of their footsteps and Ben’s harsh breathing for a while. Ben is tense and trembling a little on Alec’s arm, but it doesn’t all seem to be physical discomfort. He keeps shooting Alec these hurried, uneasy glances out of the corner of his eye when he thinks Alec’s not paying attention, and it doesn’t take long for Alec to get fed up.
"What?"
Ben’s whole body jerks, head dropping to stare fixedly at the ground. One foot in front of the other, slow, slow, so freaking slow, and finally he says, "You’re mad?" voice rising a little at the end like he can’t help but make it a question even though he seems to know for a fact it’s true.
It’s not like Alec’s keeping it a secret. His face hurts from scowling so hard. "You’re surprised?"
Ben licks his lips slowly. "I don’t," he pauses, pulling in another shaky breath. "I don’t know what I did?" Another statement turned question, his expression all boyish innocence and a little fear, and that’s just.
It’s downright galling, is what it is. Ben is un-fucking-believable. Alec stares at him.
Ben keeps looking at his feet.
"You’re one conniving son of a bitch," Alec bites out, turning his attention back to the darkness ahead. Among other things, he’s pretty sick and goddamn tired of watching Ben lie to his face with his own face.
Ben’s voice, when it comes, is thin and high. Alec refuses to be moved. "What?"
"All that nonsense before? All your ‘Oh, Alec, you’re so good and noble, and I’m a bad, bad man, please teach me your ways?’ You were full of shit." Alec clenches his teeth so hard the tension knifes up through his jaw and births a new world of pain in his skull. His fingers tighten around the wrist he’s using to keep Ben’s arm around his shoulder. Ben flinches with the intensity of it but Alec doesn’t let up. "You don’t care about doing what’s right. Sure, maybe you want help blending in a little better because you have that escaped mental patient vibe going on. But being less of a murderer? That’s not what you want at all."
Ben’s breathing gets even more erratic, and he starts actively trying to pull away. Almost immediately, though, he slams into reverse when the battle becomes more about not falling over.
Alec hangs on, stubborn and becoming steadily more pissed off. "If you pass out right now, so help me, I will leave your ass."
There’s a sharp inhale like Alec just suckerpunched him before Ben steadies himself, drawing in slower, more deliberate breaths. "What," he starts. Stops. "What is it you think I want, then?"
"A partner," says Alec, fairly sure he’s figured this part out well enough. "You only said that crap because you thought it was the only way I’d agree to hang out with you."
"What can I say," Ben sneers, total one-eighty, and Alec is startled into looking over at him again. He’s eyeing Alec like he’s some dumb, slow creature who’s lucky he’s been allowed to live this long. "Your awesomeness is irresistible like that."
Alec recognizes enough of himself in his twin to know a defense mechanism when he sees it. Still, he has to marvel at how quickly and effortlessly Ben has switched gears. "You’re a lot more devious than I gave you credit for."
Ben shrugs, a little of that derision giving way to something like relief. Alec guesses it must be exhausting, all that pretending. It’s not like he’s never had to do it for a mission, but he wasn’t wrestling with his own insanity at the same time. Doesn’t make him any less angry about it. "It’s not just me, anyway. You don’t like being alone either."
Alec almost laughs outright. He tempers it enough that it comes out as only a mildly contemptuous snort. "If I was that desperate for a sidekick there are about a thousand other people I’d pick over you."
"That is patently untrue."
Ben sounds so smug about it that Alec can’t help but issue the challenge: "Enlighten me."
"Anyone stuck with you would be doomed. That’s how you think, isn’t it?" says Ben, and it’s right about then that Alec’s idle thoughts of throwing Ben on the ground and leaving him there start to merit more serious consideration. "That being around you is some kinda punishment? Being around me is worse, though, and you believe it’s better if you’re the one being punished."
Alec is stunned enough by that answer to fail to come up with a decent rebuttal. The fact that Ben seems to know him so well when it’s become painfully clear he knows so little about Ben infuriates him almost as much as it scares the hell out of him.
"Tell me I’m wrong."
"You’re wrong," Alec obliges him. Then he not-so-accidentally trips a little bit, jarring Ben violently enough that he chokes back a yelp. "And an asshole."
They don’t have much to say to each other after that.
-:-
They hobble along in tense silence for what feels like forever. Ben seems to have settled into a nice little sulk but he’s given up trying to get Alec to talk about his feelings, which is just awesome as far as Alec is concerned.
Everything is awesome.
They’re far, far away from the bad men and their bad guns and all the bad weather, and they’ve made some decent headway, Alec thinks, because he’s thinking positively. He doesn’t have a watch or any kind of view of the sky to help him judge time very effectively, and the tunnel looks the same as it did a million miles ago, but if he doesn’t look on the bright side of something after the day he’s had, he’s going to join Ben in the Brotherhood of Lost Marbles.
"Alright, pit stop," Alec says decisively when they’ve reached the point where Ben isn’t so much walking as being dragged around like a carcass.
They’ve also reach a fork in the road, so to speak, the tunnel branching off in three different directions, and Alec needs Ben’s input for this part.
Ben doesn’t appear altogether with it anymore, though. His eyes are fully closed now, skin pale as winter and almost as cold, though he does mumble some kind of response to let Alec know he heard him. It might be a protest but if Ben’s going to be all incoherent then Alec gets to interpret it however he likes.
Alec lowers him so that’s he’s sitting propped up against the crumbling wall. "Hey." He pats at Ben’s cheek, and Ben’s eyes flutter open briefly before crashing shut again. "We talked about naptime," Alec says, giving him a firmer pat. Might be more of a slap but whatever. Ben’s eyes stay open a little longer that time. "You can’t have one until we’re well and truly fled. Come on, wake up. Tell me more about your wacky stalking hijinks."
He swallows when that gets Ben’s attention, half-lidded eyes glittering weakly in the dark and peering intently at him. Probably wasn’t the best idea to remind them both so openly that he’s stuck down here for who knows how long with a serial killer who may or may not have been lying about every single thing he’s said to him so far.
Distracting himself with his total lack of medical supplies seems the way to go, so Alec does. When Ben patched him up he evidently didn’t think to bring whatever he used along for the ride, and all Alec really has to work with are Ben’s own clothes and a pair of huge hunting knives that aren’t ideal for precise surgical procedures.
"Better than nothing," Alec declares, and proceeds to strip his twin of his jacket and shirt.
Ben doesn’t resist, doesn’t really help either, just keeps looking at him while Alec maneuvers his ragdoll limbs this way and that.
Giving into his curiosity, and hoping to make Ben quit with the creepy staring while also keeping him alert with conversation, Alec asks, "Was any of it true?"
He sets Ben’s hoodie aside carefully and tries not to choke on the overwhelming copper scent that comes wafting out into the open. Reaches for Ben’s shirt and realizes it’s a lost cause as soon as he touches it; it’s so sodden with blood it feels like it could squish apart in his hands.
It still has to come off, though, so he sucks it up and curls his fingers under the sticky hem, peeling it up slowly.
"Manticore?" Alec prods, though Ben is clearly not up for talking back. "The Blue Lady?"
It only gets more disturbing as he goes. It’s not just the starkness of so much red, red blood set against the ghostly pallor of Ben’s skin, it’s the entire state of him. Alec had thought the scars were the worst of it, that the gut shot and kaleidoscopic bruises spanning his ribcage would come in at a close second, but the way his ribs stand out—the vivid, uncompromisingly skeletal picture of what someone who is wasting away actually looks like—that’s what gets him.
"Shit," Alec breathes softly. He almost wants to feel insulted at how poorly Ben has taken care of himself. They’re identical in nearly every way, and seeing his own body in such disrepair blindsides Alec in a way he hadn’t expected. When he rifles through the hoodie’s pockets and finds the food he’d tossed Ben as a parting gift that morning, he despairs. "When’s the last time you fucking ate anything?"
He isn’t expecting a response, but Ben mumbles, "I got distracted," kind of defensively, and that doesn’t make Alec feel any better.
"Jesus. You’re so much more hopeless than I thought."
Looking at the chips and soda, Alec’s own stomach practically howls. The rate his body goes through calories is insane; he can’t imagine going days and days without something to eat. He could if he had to, he knows that, but he’d never endure it willingly, and he certainly wouldn’t forget how awesome eating is.
He unscrews the soda cap and tips it to Ben’s mouth. "Drink," he orders. "Sugar has all kinds of magical properties, trust me. You’ll be bouncing off the walls in no time."
Ben makes a face like he doesn’t see the appeal of that, but he obeys. Alec is careful, not letting too much soda drip down the sides of Ben’s mouth and go to waste, but it's not a perfect set-up they have going and Ben’s chin is an inevitable mess by the time he’s finished drinking half of it.
"Good?" he asks as Ben lets out a satisfied little sigh.
Ben nods and says, "Yeah," like he’s surprised.
Alec despairs some more. "Don’t tell me you’ve never had any."
"Not that kind. It didn’t seem like it’d be good."
"Grape is delicious," Alec assures, and takes a couple sips himself to prove the irresistible nature of it. He screws the cap back on, saving the rest, wipes Ben’s hands off as best he can and then sets him to the task of eating the chips while he busies himself shredding the hoodie into more manageable strips.
The more food he gets in him, the more Ben seems to perk up, which is both a blessing and a curse. The gunshot wounds aren’t as bad as they could be but tending to them isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park. The slug he took in the gut is more off to the side than Alec figured, right above his hipbone, and there’s another one just over that, too close to his ribs. Neither of them looks like it was a clean shot and they’re both bleeding like crazy but they don’t appear to have hit anything vital and Ben isn’t showing signs of organ failure, so that’s something. There’s another big, unsightly gash up near his clavicle that looks like a bullet glanced off after smashing the bone underneath to smithereens. Nothing go fishing for in there, but piecing the collarbone back together is still going to be straight-up awful to deal with. Alec kind of feels bad that Ben doesn’t get to be unconscious for this like he was, then feels annoyed about feeling bad, then decides Ben inspires too many complicated feelings and he should just stop thinking and get it over with.
He’s getting ahead of himself, anyway. Ben can’t afford to lose anymore blood—Alec’s going to have to miracle a transfusion out of thin air if those holes don’t stop leaking in the next few minutes—so hacking into him with a hunting knife to retrieve the bullets isn’t feasible.
First things first, Alec fashions a sling out of some bigger strips of cloth and sets to work immobilizing the arm nearest Ben’s broken collarbone.
"It was true," Ben grunts, finally answering Alec’s earlier question to distract himself as Alec nudges at him to find better angles. "They did try to fix me."
Alec glances up to encourage him to go on, even if he's not sure he wants to hear it anymore. All it's doing right now is reminding him how betrayed he feels, and how much he hates that he can feel betrayed by someone he doesn’t even like.
"They figured out pretty quickly that it wasn't anything brain surgery and re-indoctrination could correct," says Ben. "Not all the way. I know the Lady was just an excuse," he admits, face twisting up like it's still torture after all this time to acknowledge it, "but that just left me wanting to kill indiscriminately instead of making sacrifices. They decided to try and refocus that."
"If they couldn't control their rabid attack dog they at least wanted to aim you at the right targets," Alec realizes, grimacing. "Sounds like them." For a bunch of brilliant mad scientists and head spies, Manticore's staff were never very bright when it came to knowing which projects they should just give up on. "I'm guessing it backfired."
"Kinda. I—" Ben slams his eyes shut and whimpers pretty pitifully when Alec pulls the sling tight. Alec persists because dawdling will only make it worse, tying it off so it’s pressed firmly against the wound and keeping Ben’s arm pinned so securely he’ll be lucky to feel his fingers for much longer. Ben takes a couple of steadying breaths and continues, "I mean, I am refocused. Just not how they were hoping."
"Who were they trying to get you to go after?"
"You. Us."
"Transgenics?" Alec frowns, motioning Ben into a better position for bandaging his midsection.
Ben nods, slowly scooting forward and turning sideways. "After the fire at the Seattle facility." He rests his free arm on Alec’s shoulder to get it out of the way. "I wasn't there but I overheard them complaining about all their secrets escaping into the wild and how it'd be more efficient to just wipe them out than to try for recapture. They couldn’t dumb me down enough so that I wouldn't draw the obvious conclusions, though. Killing all transgenics included me, and after they took the Lady from me," Ben’s words fade on a growl before picking back up, "I wasn't okay with self-destructing once I'd completed my mission."
"You turned on them," Alec says more than asks, flashing back to all those uniformed bodies upstairs.
"I do care, a little. Not the same way you do, and probably not as much, but." Ben hisses through his teeth, pausing to adjust to the new and undoubtedly agonizing sensation of Alec jamming a wad of cloth against the worst of the two punctures in his torso. His fingers dig into Alec’s shoulder as he breathes through it, and Alec makes quick work of wrapping it into place, tight as he can get it without damaging Ben’s ribs any more.
"I'm not interested in sparing the people who want us dead," Ben manages through the pain. I don’t care if they call me a monster." He looks at Alec pointedly and says, gentler, "We’re soldiers. It’s not our job to make it easy for them."
"I don’t need survival lessons from you," Alec snarls.
"I wasn’t implying you did."
Alec takes a beat to calm down, aware that he got little defensive there. He doesn’t need gentle reminders from Ben about what he is, is all. He knows damn well.
He goes on to repeat the process of plugging up the remaining bullethole, trying not to be rougher than he needs to just because he’s annoyed. Again. "So, when you said you didn't kill Dalton?"
"I wasn't lying about that. I never lied about any of it, I just. Left some things out," says Ben, more cautious now, like he’s tiptoeing through a minefield, and that gets Alec’s undivided attention. "I know I'm messed up, I'm not an idiot. And maybe I could learn to be ... I dunno, better somehow? I'm not totally against it. But it's not a priority. I've come to terms with what I am."
Alec doesn’t reply to that right away. He resumes tying off the last makeshift bandage and sits back, taking Ben in again. For all his subterfuge, Ben isn’t always as convincing as he thinks. If he’s come to terms with what he is, really and truly, and hasn’t just resigned himself to being some irreparable mistake, Alec will eat his own foot.
It’s not Alec’s problem to work through, though, and so he asks, "What if I can't?"
"Then you can't. I don't know what to tell you." Ben gives a one-shouldered shrug, not meeting Alec’s eyes. "I won't be happy about it but I'm not gonna force you to stay."
"And you won't stalk me anymore?"
"I didn't say that." Ben smirks shakily. "I can give you space, but I can't promise I won't check in on you from time to time. Make sure you're not starting more riots in big cities, that kind of thing."
"Bite me."
"You just need so much looking after, little brother."
Alec rolls his eyes and stands. "I hate you."
"You want to," Ben allows. "But you really don't."
Alec blinks. He’s not fond of how Ben just randomly spews out uncomfortable truths like that and he almost retracts the hand he’d halfway offered to help Ben up. He extends it against his better judgment (though, honestly, he’s not sure he has any better judgment left after all this), and Ben releases one long, miserable groan as he’s pulled to his feet. Alec steadies him with a hand on his chest, mindful of his injuries.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Which way?" Alec asks, motioning at the two unending channels of darkness in front of them, then at another, smaller tunnel to their right.
Ben looks uncertain again, more lost little psycho than evil mastermind. He's exasperatingly good at it; even now, Alec can't tell if it's an act or a genuine part of his personality that he's learned how to use to his advantage but can't always control.
"Depends."
Alec’s not in the mood for this game, so he sticks to more specific questions. He points at the smaller tunnel. "Where does that one lead?"
"Up," Ben says simply. "This one goes down. That one goes down too, but it connects to other buildings and tunnels that stretch further out to the edge of the city."
"Supplies?"
"There's an underground walkway with lots of stores through there." Ben flaps a hand at the smaller tunnel again, all kinds of grumpy about it. "Looks like they were abandoned in a hurry. Most of them still have stuff."
"This the only way?"
"It's scattered all around the Loop so there are a few ways in and out."
"Huh," Alec grunts, thinking.
He knows the choice he's being offered here. He blew his one chance of getting out of the city already, no way hijacking another car is going to work again, but if he chooses to head aboveground he could go back to retrieve the money he stashed earlier and probably find someplace else to hide until the heat dies down.
He bites his lip. "So if we keep going we can stock up closer to where we want to hole up?"
Ben's eyes go big and hopeful. "Yeah."
This has got to top the long, long list of very stupid decisions Alec's made in his life. He starts limping again, straight ahead and deeper underground. "Let's do that, then. I'm not carrying a bunch of extra weight around until I have to."
"Really?" Ben breathes out so quietly that anyone who isn’t a transgenic would’ve missed it.
Alec doesn’t turn back to give him the mocking look he deserves, but Ben gets over expecting an answer to a dumb question almost before he’s finished asking it, scrambling unsteadily to catch up.
The hush that falls as they haltingly conquer inch by excruciating inch of tunnel can’t quite be labeled comfortable this time around, but it’s not packed with as much hostility either. Alec is worn down and ready to drop and gives his brain permission to check out for a bit, while Ben seems afraid to breathe too loud for fear of ruining the fragile truce between them.
They make it to the walkway closer to where they want to be, or so Alec assumes because Ben straightens up a little from his oh-god-my-innards-are-filled-with-spikes slouch, and wearily raises a hand to point at a simple wooden door set into the wall. It's faded and cracked over time but it looks like any other door Alec has walked through, and it's not locked.
He quickly discovers that locks don't matter because it opens to a brick wall.
"Well, that's … kind of anticlimactic," he mutters, kicking halfheartedly at it.
"No, look," says Ben, coming forward to push at one of the big gray blocks in the center. There's a loud scraping sound and a little puff of cement dust as it slides inward, clattering loudly to the floor on the other side. "We can replace them when we come back through. No one will ever know we were here."
"Smart," Alec concedes, and Ben smiles dimly.
They start making a hole big enough to climb through, which turns out to lead to another basement. It's huge and empty but suspiciously free of cobwebs, and Alec is starting to get a better idea of where they are now. There's a section of abandoned retail buildings that have come under renovation and construction in the last couple of years, which means this building is likely to have signs of life—some janitorial staff, at the very least.
Ben doesn't seem too concerned with the noise, though, so Alec keeps an eye out and follows him through to another wall, and another opening. Alec can see through to the other side of this one, a rectangular space large enough to fit a car through that opens up to more darkness, blocked off with a metal sliding gate. It's chained up tight.
Or maybe not.
Ben lifts up the gate with a wince, revealing the chain to be just for show as it falls free with a clamor. Alec is reluctantly impressed and a little confused. He wonders if Ben just dedicated weeks of walking around down here to rendering all obstacles useless and disguising them. It seems like so much foresight for someone who forgets to feed himself on a regular basis.
He doesn't have the time or energy to dwell on that as Ben leads him into what is, as promised, a walkway. It reminds him of an old mall or airport: long and wide with tiled floors, defunct ceiling lights and smooth walls lined with stores and kiosks and restrooms, all of it thickly filmed with dust. Some of the stores have been hastily ransacked and picked clean, but there are plenty still stocked high with merchandise, even if they are mostly a mess.
"I'll go for food and meds, if there are any," Alec decides, because while neither of them are really up for much heavy lifting, Ben looks fit to fold under the slightest breeze and Alec wants to make sure the more crucial job is done right. "You see about finding clean clothes and a better hat." He eyes Ben critically, frowning in distaste before snatching the offending beanie off his head so he can't conveniently forget to replace it. Alec makes a mental note to find a lighter and burn it ASAP. "And maybe a cordless shaver and some batteries or something. Stuff to help you look less like a deranged hobo."
Ben pouts, rubbing self-consciously at his scarred head, and blinks slowly. His eyes are ringed a deep purple and it takes him a minute to fully register what Alec just said.
Sluggishly, he makes his way toward what appears to be a pre-Pulse souvenir shop, clumsily plucking things off the toppled racks. He finds a couple of cheap-looking duffel bags to shove his spoils into. "Have you thought about where you wanna go when we get out?" he asks on a wide yawn, clearly looking for some chit-chat to keep him awake.
Alec fills a canvas bag with junk food, heedless of the expiration dates. "Anywhere but here."
"Canada? I've heard—"
"Not Canada," Alec interrupts quickly.
"Okay," drawls Ben, confused.
"I know the rumors and I'm not interested," Alec says, then sighs, realizing his aversion to the Great White North is about ten times more complicated than before, now that he's saddled with Ben.
It’s true enough that he is very much not interested in trying to find some happy ending only to have his hopes shattered. Even if the safe haven turned out to be real, they'd probably ruin it all by looking to him for answers again. Might expect him to resume old roles and rally the troops in return for room and board. Ben is enough to deal with at one time.
Which is kinda the bigger problem.
Ben’s not exactly going to fit in, even with other transgenics. Alec considered Max one of his best friends and respected her opinions most of the time, but there are too many ex-TC residents who’ve developed an almost fanatical devotion to her and her ideals. If they find out what Ben has done, well.
It won’t be pretty, to say the least.
Thinking of Max, Alec feels something in his gut turn over, that big old bundle of guilt getting restless. He can't pretend he understands what she would want now, never seemed to be able to please her a hundred percent, but he thinks she'd want him to help Ben. That she'd be happy with that. Still—
"I should kill you." It's the first time Alec's said it aloud. It lacks the same conviction it did in his head. "For what you did to Max."
Ben stands there with his one good hand full of travel-sized deodorant and toothpaste and shampoo. He's visibly mitigating his annoyance at Alec bringing this up again but he doesn’t look worried. "She did the same for me. It only seemed fair."
That's when Alec makes the distinction. It was a gift, as far as Ben's concerned, not revenge. It's how pack hunters take care of each other—weak, hurt, kill—putting a suffering pack member of its misery. If Ben is capable of loving anything, Alec believes Max would be one of the few he’d deem worthy. It clicks for him, then.
"I won't do that for you," Alec decides once and for all, some of the weight falling off his shoulders as he turns back to his task. He doesn't have it in him to end anyone's suffering when he's been forced to endure it on his own for so long. If he's gotta drag broken pieces around while he chases these warped illusions of freedom and living, Ben can break his back trying to haul the load, too. Alec's all about sharing.
"I know. Me, either. I'm all out of generosity and you're kind of a dick, anyway."
Alec feels something in his chest loosen, and smirks. "I'm just getting started, big brother." Turns back around and points at a tipped-over vending machine down the corridor. "Now go get me some candy before I do something unseemly to your toiletries."
Don't forget to check out the art!
A/N 2: The stuff about the tunnels is not really accurate because I've never been in them. The Pedway and CTA tunnels are up and running but I obviously used the Pulse to make them all abandoned. And a lot of the other tunnels are not readily accessible, as far as I can tell. It's pretty much a little bit of research mixed with a whole lot of making stuff up. I hope it doesn't bother anyone too much. I stumbled across this when I was looking up ... something. I can't remember. Anyway, I thought it was pretty awesome and decided to throw that in here, though I really feel that someone who is better at all this writing nonsense should do something cooler with it.
Acknowedgements: A million and one thanks go to—
My wonderfully talented and fantastic artist,
amberdreams, who made pretty, pretty pictures that had no small part in kicking my ass into gear because PRETTY, and everyone should go ogle her art post and tell her so. She's also just a really sweet, fun person to know. My awesome beta
2blueshoes who pulled no punches and actually helped me figure out where the heck I was going with some of this. Any remaining mistakes are my own, and if something is terrible it's probably because I neglected to take her advice while I was all crazy and distracted with reaching the finish line. My very essential cheerleader
chiiyo86, who kept me on the ball and listened to all my whining and basically went above and beyond. Without her, I would've procrastinated like nobody's business and probably would've lost my mind completely.The fabulous
darkangel_bb mod denyce for tirelessly loving this fandom and keeping this challenge alive for those of us who still want to play. You guys are all amazing people and you should feel amazing. Thank you so much for existing in this little fandom and helping me finish this thing. No small feat, because I haven't finished a writing thing in years, it feels like. Especially nothing this long. \o/
