Blacklight S2 (R)

[laura]

By the time they’d reached shelter, Emma was beginning to fray around the edges. The day had left her both mentally and physically exhausted, and Zia’s poisonous comments hadn’t helped. Honestly, she couldn’t have cared less about how the other woman felt about her, like or dislike, it did nothing to faze Emma, but it was the way she’d made her feel… useless.

She hadn’t felt that way since she was sixteen.

Emma knew how to fight and she knew how to do it well; anyone questioning that fact risked severe injury. If Zia opened her mouth on the subject once more, team or not, Emma would ground her ass into the mud.

“Beth, don’t take this the wrong way, but I was hoping for some – “
“What?” Beth challenged, locking them into a small back office, out of ear shot from the others. “Elijah time? I think you’ve had enough of that.”
Emma scoffed at that. “Excuse me? We haven’t spent a single minute alone since my birthday. Nearly a month ago.”
“Oh boo-hoo. Get over it. We have more important things to deal with right now.”

Emma watched the woman walk around the pale oak desk, before taking a seat in the worn, ripped leather chair behind it. “Meaning?” She asked.
Beth spun in the chair until she was facing Emma head on, surveying her closely with narrowed eyes and her hands laced on the table top; in the same fashion that reminded her of Landry.

“You’re late, Em. Which can only mean one thing…” When Emma didn’t offer any sort of reply, she added. “Seriously? Are you going to make me spell it out for you?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so concerned with my monthly going-on’s.” Emma shrugged indifferently. The more she played the ignorant party, the better.

Beth gaped at her. “What the hell, Emma? I’m your friend – probably your best friend, because let’s face it, I’m awesome – and believe it or not, but I actually give a fuck about you. You’ve been having naughty, unprotected sexy time with Elijah and now you’re throwing up, plus you’re late. So add that all together and what do we get?” She pointed one slim finger at the red head. “You, my dearest Emma, are pregnant!”

There were a range of different ways for a woman to react to this kind of news, or at least, a normal woman. It was taken in one of two ways – good or bad, smile or cry. But how did Emma react?

She laughed.

A full-hearted - if not a little hysterical – giggle burst from her throat. “What?!” She gasped between her laughter. “No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

Palms braced onto the table top, Beth pushed up, the chair careening off behind her. “I am not being ridiculous! Have you or have you not been using condoms, Emma?”
That only made her laugh more. “I am not telling you that!”
“You’ve told me about your ‘special’ birthday evening that you shared together, out in the middle of no-where, with no pharmacies of any kind nearby…”

Thinking of that night – which just happened to be the last time her and Elijah had been intimate – never failed to release a flurry of butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Though, with Beth’s querying, Emma found herself going over the details of the evening with closer inspection.

The picnic, the flower, the ring (oh, the ring) and the words, they’d been so caught up in the moment, that when it had come down to it… oh shit. A wave of horror washed over her, slapping away all traces of her humour. How could neither of them have realised what they’d done? They’d completely forgotten!

“Holy shit…”
Beth rounded the desk to grip tightly at Emma’s shoulders. “Let’s not panic. I mean, look where we are – there is bound to be a pharmacy section in this place, so you stay here and I’ll go find a test.”
“What?” Emma squeaked.
“I am going to track you down a pregnancy test, Em. Don’t move. Stay riiiight where you are.”

The brunette swiftly moved through the office door, only to appear a second later, a smile peeking at her lips. “If you are and it’s a girl, I wouldn’t mind if you named her after me. Elizabeth is a great name and all.”

Emma’s glare was all the answer she needed.

[Ange Keating]

After passing cold water on his face and wiping away at the grime that clung to his skin with a few squares of toilet paper, he trailed out of the bathroom with full intention to steal Emma away from Beth. They had been attached to the hip as of late and even though Elijah wasn’t the type to demand every ounce of his girlfriend’s attention, their alone time had been limited in the last few weeks.

However, he was only able to get so far before someone was stopping him, Ryan’s face instantly coming into view. Almost out of instinct, Elijah felt a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. Out of the entire group, he had been the person he had spoken to the very least. There were periods of time he even forgot the other existed, and now that he was shrinking into the corner of affairs and hardly speaking to Emma, it was easier to overlook him.

Until now, of course.

“I was looking for you,” he announced, much to Elijah’s contained surprise. And as if he had sensed his confusion, he continued, momentarily dragging a hand down the length of his fatigued face. “Look, I know we’ve never been exactly friends—”
“We weren’t even acquaintances,” Elijah instantly quipped, an edge to his tone.
“Right. But I came here to tell you that Emma can’t do this alone. You have to be with her when she takes the test. She’ll need you.”

He furrowed his eyebrows together, feeling his bewilderment burst to all new heights. A test? What the fuck was he even talking about?

Again, the man continued, gauging his words with the agent’s reactions. His complexion had noticeably paled within the capacity of five seconds, eyes slightly widening. “You don’t know do you?”
Was there something that the group had decided to exclude him on? “I don’t know what? What the hell are you getting at?”
Peering over his shoulder, as if someone could lunge at any moment, he turned to face Elijah again. “Perhaps you should just ask her.”

Elijah didn’t hesitate to curl his fists around Ryan’s shirt, backing him into a rack of empty donut boxes, orbs darkening in response. “Is she hurt?”
“Depends on how you look at the word ‘hurt’,” he shot back. Fucking Christ, he couldn’t possibly decide now was the appropriate time he finally decided to crack a joke.
Unimpressed, his frown grew deeper.
“No, she’s not hurt,” Ryan sighed. “Possibly pregnant, yes.”

In less than a moment’s time Elijah was backing off of him as if the fires of hell were blazing out of his orifices, the two of them locked in a ten second stare down before he was snickering with a shake of his head. “If this is your elaborate way to get under my skin, it was an epic failure. I’m always protected, Ryan. We’ve always—we’ve always been safe.”

The dark-haired man shrugged again before pointing towards the pharmacy section. “Guess you should go over there and hope to god your condom didn’t malfunction. Emma did tell me you were the Condom King, right?” There was a sarcastic edge to his voice; one fierce enough to cause Elijah’s muscles to tighten in dull rage.

“She’s not pregnant,” he responded with a small snort although he found himself turning on his heel and moving to the western wing of the store a little faster than he should have. “She’s not fucking pregnant,” he continued to no one in particular. “Because that’s ridiculous. We never had sex without a condom. I’m not a dad. I will not be a dad. I’d be a shitty dad. Which is why she’s not pregnant. I'm not going to be like my parents. I won't have kids before I'm ready. Nope, nope. Look what happened to me? I'm borderline fifty shades of fucked up. All because they weren't careful.”

Clenching his jaw, he exhaled air through his nose quietly. “She’s not.”

[laura]

When Beth walked back into the office, an arm full of various size boxes, Emma felt the contents of her stomach drop to the floor. She stood up from the desk as the brunette dropped her load onto it, the objects scattering across the surface.

“The place has practically been ransacked already - probably by men, because they left all these goodies behind!” As she spoke, Beth worked on separating the boxes into an order. “Okay, hon, we have three different kinds of tests here; ranging from the cheap, to the pricey. If you're not pregnant, then I grabbed these!” Beth raised a medium sized, square box in to the air. “I've heard of these and to buy they are ridiculously expensive - I mean hundreds of dollars. I had to bust these babies out of a security case.”

Emma stared at her friend in a daze, only half listening to what she was rabbiting on about. The largest percentage of Emma's attention was set on to the rectangular cases.

“...do you know what these are, Em? They mean no more scares!”
Emma blinked. “Mmm?”
“This is a Tempt. It's a top of the range birth control tattoo set. They are incredible! They last three months and it means no more condoms. Great sex is on its way, girl!”

There would be time to think about (and celebrate) later, when she wasn't in the verge of heart failure.

“W-What are those?” Emma asked, reaching for the only box Beth had yet to identify.

Beth slowly placed the Tempt box down, all traces of her humour melting away. Her shoulders straightened, her body visibly tensed before she spoke. “Um...well...they’re in case you are pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. Abortion pills? Through the haze of fear and shock, something else pushed through - confusion and doubt moved in to join the emotional party. Emma didn't want to become a mother, she'd never had an ounce of desire to ever have children, to bring a life in to the world only to screw it up like her mother had done to her.

But, if she was...could she end that life, something that had ultimately stemmed from hers and Elijah's love, in such a simple and easy way? To take a pill and bam, the life that she never expected to exist, wouldn't.

Emma dropped the pills to the table. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Emma...” Beth sighed, touching her arm. “Whatever you decide, it will -”

The office door creaked open, Elijah's wide eyes the first thing she saw through the murky glass. He looked from her, to the contents splayed out beside them and she watched as the colour drained from his face, shade by shade. However, the fear she thought she'd feel at Elijah finding out was no where to be found, instead she felt the intense need to wrap herself around him, to find the comfort Emma knew she could only find with him.

So, that's just what she did. Emma moved briskly across the room and all but slammed into his chest, her arms locking around his back. Visions of how he'd reacted with Amanda filtered into her mind; he'd nearly lost his mind, walking around in a constant state of depression. What made this situation any different from that?

Beth was quick to excuse herself, sealing the couple in the small room together, away from any praying ears.

It was only after Emma heard the click of the door, that she was dimly aware that Elijah wasn't hugging her back.

“Are you...?” He asked, his tone barely above a whisper.
“I don't know. I haven't used one of those things yet.”
Elijah stepped back, out of her embrace. “Then maybe you should.”

She must have shown her hurt and vulnerability across her face, because the moment his gaze met with hers, the darkness of his eyes lightened.

Emma turned back to the table and reached for the closest box before he could say any more. “Yeah, okay. I will.”

[Ange Keating]

There were a lot of moments in his life where the anxiety was too much to handle. Riding into the heart of a violence-laden town with the suspended fear that maybe today would be it; that his body would be flown back to America as a fallen soldier. Or the moments right after the tank that contained Remiah had exploded, men, him included, flooding the scene to scavenge for survivors. Or now; when his girlfriend, practically his first, true love, was holding a pregnancy test that had the potential to change their futures in the capacity of five minutes or less. Elijah had no idea what to even do with himself as he sat by the desk, body hunched over as he twiddled his thumbs, before deciding that he’d rather pace anxiously.

This couldn’t happen; they couldn’t raise a kid like this. Partially because of the treacherous environment they were encompassed in and mostly because Elijah wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to be a father in spite of his feelings for the red head. He had come a long way since his days back at the agency, but even then his maturity to sustain another, much more vulnerable, human life wasn’t quite where it had to be. And the overwhelming dread that he’d turn out rushing into the whole ‘having a kid’ thing like his parents had annoyingly clung to him.

Elijah found it oddly ironic even though he was consistently putting his life on the line every single day, the idea of having a baby terrified him considerably more.

Emma was still in the adjunct bathroom, not saying a word to indicate whether the test was positive or not. For a brief moment he considered checking up on her, but his body protested, not wanting to figure out the news prematurely. He was still trying to sort his emotions, still trying to figure out the best possible way to support his girlfriend if things didn’t go their way. Elijah had a way with ignoring his filter so he found himself shakily rehearsing the words he’d say to her if the test came out positive to prevent from saying anything that would hurt her. ‘It’s okay, Em. Like everything else in our lives, we can handle this. We can take care of it. I’ll be with you every step of the way.’

If the test was positive, they’d have to reprioritize. Maneuvering a new born through bullet showers and the wrath of The Triad was nothing short of insane. They wouldn’t be able to continue fighting this battle – somehow, they’d have to find somewhere low key, somewhere so quiet not even Hoffman himself would be able to find them. They’d have to leave the group, trust that they’d fight this battle without them. It wasn’t an alternative Elijah enjoyed mulling over, but it was necessary.

Eventually, just as he was turning back to the chair, the door swung open again, Elijah’s breath simultaneously catching in his throat. He scrambled to find his voice again.

“The verdict?”

[laura]

Emma walked from the bathroom in a numb, dream-like state, her fingers still curled around the final test. To be safe, she’d used all three; the first, and cheapest of the trio, had come out with mixed results, only sending her into panic mode. She’d needed the reassurance that only the other two tests could have given her.

“The verdict?”

She glanced up, the sound of his voice snapping her from her daze. Emma didn’t want to stretch this out anymore than necessary; so she held up the test and breathed out a single word. “Negative.”
Both had given her the same answer – one of which even adding : ( face beside the message. Not exactly accurate, in her case.

Elijah let out a large sigh of relief, traversing the room to wrap her in a hug. "Jesus, Em, you scared me."
Fuck, he was scared!? Emma had been well and truly on the road to a heart attack. She sighed and wound her arms around his back. This was what she’d wanted earlier, full on Elijah contact. “So you’ll hug me now?”

Elijah grinned at her sheepishly. "I'd hug you regardless of the results."
Emma pressed her face into his chest, believing his words. “You wouldn’t before. You looked as sick as I felt.”
"I was just in...shock."

She drew back enough to look up at him. “I hope you know that this, all of this, is your fault.”
His lips popped open in surprise. "How?"
“We didn’t use a condom the night of my birthday, Elijah. You seduced me, you ass!” A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth as she spoke. “With flowers and promises and the stars above our heads.”
Elijah's eyes widened before his smirk was growing wider. "At least the sex was amazing."

Hell, yes it was.

Her hands skidded down his back, only stopping when she reached the rear pockets of his combat pants. “I knew there was something different about it. I just can’t believe neither of us realised we’d forgotten until now.”
"It was a close call; really close call."

Emma’s smirk softened and all but vanished from her face. They’d come dangerous close to becoming parents – parents, for Christ’s sake.
“What if it had been positive though, Elijah? Beth got me some…pills, just in case and straight away, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take them.” Despite how shit the timing was, how wrong the whole situation would have been, killing their baby was definitely against her mural code.

"Are we really dwelling on the what-ifs?" Then, at the mention of the pills, his voice quieted. "You wouldn't--even if the test was positive--I'd never ask you to do that, Em."
“No, I know,” Emma squeezed him to her. “And it’s a subject worth dwelling over for a little while, at least. I’ve spent my whole life convinced that I was never going to have children then tonight I spent the last twenty minutes thinking I was actually pregnant.” She paused, her jaw tightening. “It got me wondering about things.”

Elijah nodded softly. "Yeah, me too. Ryan told me you were taking a pregnancy test and I flipped out. But then I guess I sort of started thinking of our future, and how we'd deal with a kid if and when the day comes."

Wait. Ryan told him? What the…? Ugh. She’d get to that later.
Right now, though, there were more important things to discuss.

Emma’s smile returned. “Yeah? What did you come up with?”
"We'd have to leave the group, for one. Find some place quiet and secluded to hide out until the baby gets a little older."
“Makes sense. Fighting for fatherhood… sounds glamorous.” Regardless of her teasing tone, Emma was pleasantly surprised to hear his detailed plans. He’d really thought about it.
Elijah snorted. "It'd be weird, us being parents. I feel like we wouldn't even know what to do with it."
“We wouldn’t,” Emma answered honestly. “But something tells me that you’d make a much better father than I would a mother.”

Truth. Where Emma was emotionless and cold, Elijah was caring and warm. Just look how he was with her – the strength of the love that he had for her, often left Emma wondering if it was all real.
"Seriously doubt that. You're absolutely amazing with defending the things and people you love."
“That’s an easy job – since that category only holds you.” And look what happened there; she stabbed a woman to death for touching him.

Elijah scoffed. "Again, don't agree. You'd be an amazing mother, Em. After all, you did off Hoffman's wife to save the group, and me."
She laughed at that. “I killed that bitch because she touched you in a way only I’m allowed to. That’s all.”

He opened his mouth to reply, only to be quickly hushed by her kiss. “Question,” Emma murmured against his lips. “What would you say if I told you it was possible to have more amazing sex, without the panic afterwards?”
"I'd say I'm five thousand percent down with that."
Her eyes flickered toward the table top, where the Tempt box was still sitting. “Then, it’s time to hang up your crown, Condom King, because I have a secret weapon.”

[Ange Keating]

Elijah was grinning wide in spite of himself as she showed him the box that contained the equivalent of birth control inside of it. Even though, he thought with disappointment, they wouldn’t have nearly as much time to connect intimately as they had in the past, it was still a useful addition nonetheless. Sex made twenty million times better by what resided in the medium-sized package. Elijah was completely down.

“Well y’know, every great weapon requires adequate testing,” he responded, cerulean orbs nearly bordering on predatory as he rubbed her upper arm with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh yeah?” Her arms circled around his neck as Elijah backed her into the desk, lips nipping on her earlobe. Because naturally, the fact that they were minutes away from nearly being parents had only terrified them for a half hour at best.

Logic was not always associated with them.

“Mhm,” he breathed, already sliding a hand up her top, palm flattening against the smooth skin of her waistline. Elijah only distantly hoped Beth wouldn’t think to return to figure out the news. She had never been known for patience.

“Just one thing,” Emma murmured in between kisses, her expression manifesting into that of a more serious one. “The scare with Amanda – was that—was there any difference?”

Elijah’s busy hands were pausing in place, jaw slackening as the question registered. It wasn’t something he had even considered, yet, the answer was slipping past his lips without a hitch. “Yeah,” he breathed, cupping her jaw and forcing her to look at him. “When we had sex it was out of drunken lust. I had no feelings for her or any desire to care for a child that was created through an emotionless one night stand, as horrible as it sounds.” Then he was pressing the tip of his nose to hers, bodies pressed flush together. “With you, it was still scary, but I knew that the kid that could have been potentially growing inside of you was made out of love, and commitment, and trust. And I believed in you, and us, and that we had the power to get through absolutely anything together.”

They were staring at each other in unadulterated silence for what felt like eternity before she was crashing their mouths together in a flurry of desire, affection, and passion. It was synonymous with thunderstorms causing the shutters to hiss and infernos cranked on full blast and waves crashing away at rocky shores. It was as if the outside world had been sucked into a vacuum leaving just the two of them locked in a fervent embrace. The gesture was enough to set every one of his senses on fire, and twist his thoughts into an incoherent mess. There was nothing graceful or delicate about the way they kissed – just a hurricane of clanging teeth and tongue that made him reminiscent of his prepubescent of learning how to do this for the first time.

He lifted her shirt over her head, momentarily breaking the gesture with a whimper of displeasure from Emma, sliding his mouth along her collarbone and sloppily to the space between her breasts, free hand sliding to the clasp of her bra because there wasn’t enough skin on skin. Nowhere near enough.

“Elijah,” she gasped, and for a moment he nearly hadn’t heard her. “T-The box, grab it.”

Instantly he was remembering the birth control with a tiny grunt of disbelief that managed to coax him out of his spell, coming to the realization that he would have forgotten it again. He reached for it, tearing open the box with fervor before reaching for the shimmering, lavender circle with a brief rising of his eyebrows. Emma wasted no time snatching it from him, peeling the wrapper away.

Elijah’s fingers were on the buttons of her pants before she could so much as react, nearly bursting them in the process as he dragged them down over her legs, hands flattening against the insanely supple skin of her inner thighs. She was pressing the circle there, it effortlessly blending in with her tone. Then she was reaching for him again, helping him lift his own shirt over his frame. Her fingers ghosted against his bandage before traipsing to the belt that held his pants and unlatching it.

Somehow he was panting ‘I love you’s’ into her mouth, because they hadn’t been together in so fucking long and could die tomorrow with Hoffman’s army on their tail. This message seemed to pass between them in a way that was more intimate than he had ever experienced, more raw. Her fingers were everywhere – in his hair, around his dog tags, over his biceps, trying to hold onto something as he tucked his pointer into the waistband of her panties, shoving them down her thighs.

She moaned into his ear in a way that carnal and sexual and so unbelievably agonizing that Elijah couldn’t slip out of his briefs quick enough, one hand wrapped around the small of her back and the other gripping at the edge of the desk for leverage. He was unhurried at first, strokes slow and deep, as if to feel every inch of her, to cement in his mind how this felt for when they wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. Elijah gauged his movements with the sounds she made, repeatedly touching the same areas she seemed to react to the best. It wasn’t until she was whimpering, ‘Faster, Elijah, faster’ in a way that drove him absolutely mad did he kick into high gear, thrusts quickening as he grunted into her, fingers tightening against the metal.

Elijah vaguely felt the sting of her nails dragging against his shoulder blades only to be remedied by her open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder and neck as he felt the heat knot in his lower abdomen. The perspiration gathered on the surface of his skin, dragging the hand that had rested on her back to her hips as if to force her against every of her bucks before he unraveling in groans and curses, Emma following.

For a few more moments they heaved in air together, not bothering to move their bodies.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Beth’s voice sounded from just outside of the door. “Guess you two don’t waste any time.”

[laura]

Emma was doing up the last buttons of her shirt when the office door opened to Elijah and an arm full of cans, Rylee close on his tail.
“Eli, come on, you don’t need all that. Can I at least – “ Elijah used his heel to close the door on his younger cousins face, cutting him off.

He shot her an exasperated look. “His voice drives me insane.”
Emma smirked and helped him with the cans, taking two from his hands. “What do we have here?”
“Whatever I managed to steal from Rylee. That greedy little shit was hoarding nearly a dozen of these.”

Elijah placed the tins onto the now clear table top – he’d tossed all but the Tempts away, making sure to pack the other three packets into his backpack – and with his finger hooking through the hoop of her pants, dragged her into his side.
“Did you have to take so much of it?”
“Yes,” He shrugged. “I was in a rush, so I grabbed what I could.”
“Why were you in a rush?”
“There was somewhere else I’d rather be.”

Emma smiled. He was still ruffled from their shenanigans, his hair spiked and his clothes dishevelled from where he’d pulled them on in his haste to find food – he’d never looked sexier to her. “You look a mess.”
He touched his finger tips to the side of a can, instantly flicking on the pre-heating setting. “Do I? Then why are you looking at me like I’m on the menu and not the soup?”
Emma blinked. “I’m not.”
“Are too. If you don’t want what’s in the cans, love, I’d be more than happy to satisfy your appetite.”

At the wiggle of his brows, Emma pushed up onto her tip toes and planted a firm yet tender kiss to his lips. “You look sexy as hell right now, but I’m hungry, so stop trying to tempt me.”
He dragged her back in for another kiss before turning his attention onto the canned food. “Fine. What do you want, soup, beans, peach slices or…” He grimaced as he read the label. “Pickled prunes? Nice.”
“I’ll have the soup and we can share the peaches, Rylee can have the prunes back.”

As the cans heated, Elijah made himself cosy in the only available chair, situated behind the desk and watched Emma’s every move closely. She drummed her finger tips against the metal, a sinful smile coaxing her lips upward – it would be a long, long time before she forgot their actions here tonight.

A deep sigh broke through her thoughts. “Jesus Christ, Emma…” Reaching across the desk, Elijah pulled her on to his lap. “You gotta stop doing that or we’re never going to get around to eating - or leaving this room.”
“I can’t help it!” She protested with a laugh.
“Then try harder.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Well…” His eyes flickered toward the heating food. “No soup for you, just prunes.”
“That’s just mean.”

Elijah fell into a thoughtful silence, leaning back into the chair, one hand squeezing gently at her thigh.
Emma placed her hand against his bandaged chest. “You okay?”
He nodded. “Mhm.”
“We’ll get you fixed up soon, Elijah,” His injuries were beginning to worry her more with each passing day. He needed medical attention from someone other than Lucas – preferably a professional.
“That’s not what I’m thinking about.”
“Then what is it?”

Elijah reached for a can. “Nothing. Come on, let’s eat.”

[Ange Keating]

*

"Grab your shit and lets go!" A voice shouted through the supermarket, Elijah's head lolling tiredly to the side, arm draped across Emma's shoulders as her cheek rested comfortable against his chest. Somehow they had managed to find sleep somewhere in between midnight and one AM in the morning, constructing a makeshift bed on the floor of the office.

Although any chances of him getting a proper eight hours of sleep for the first time in weeks was instantly thrown out of the window, the sounds of cans being smashed together acting as an alarm clock.

"For fucks sake," Elijah grunted, Emma simultaneously jolting upwards, red curls a haphazard mess around her shoulders. On any other occasion he would have fully appreciated his art work, but considering they were obviously stretched for time, he sprung up from his spot on the floor, grabbing the gun that rested on the desk.

Instantly the door was being thrust open by Darrius himself, eyes wide. "We gotta get out of here."

"That much is obvious," Emma quipped. "We're still too close to the residence."

"As in now."

"What's going on?" Elijah questioned, although he was already starting towards the door.

"Rylee was able to track activity within a thirty mile radius. His computer picked up an 'extraordinary force' coming through northbound."

Everything, subsequently, flew into high gear. In a few minutes, no less, everyone had scrambled from their respective hide outs to the heart of the supermarket, the compact building bathed in an eery darkness save for the emergency lights near the back exit. Darrius and Elijah had surveyed the front windows for any sign of life, Ryan and Emma already working to undo the locks by the door.

"We need to turn back south," Elijah instructed. "Else we could end up surrounded."

"But then weeks of journeying will have had gone to waste!" Jenna complained.

"Won't matter if we're dead or a bunch of zombies," Dominic quipped, sharpening a steel arrow in disinterest.

"Only way we're getting out of here without either of those things happening is through a vehicle. A fast one." Sol was already twisting a tiny cube in-between her fingers, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

“What's going on?” A tiny voice questioned, all of the heads in the room seeming to simultaneously turn to the little girl that was stood next to an irritated-looking Zia. Elijah had momentarily forgotten that she was even under their care after the death of her mother less than twenty four hours ago. He liked to believe they were doing her a massive favor.

“Nothing, sweetheart. We're just moving right now, okay?” Darrius questioned, even though it didn't take an idiot to realize the chaos surrounding them in spite of his calming words. Lucas and Logan were hauling out bags of supplies to the parking lot while Sol followed behind to activate the car. Still, either she decided not to prod or she generally believed him, for she only nodded softly.

After clearing out the supermarket of everything they could possibly need, the crew was loading into the van parked by the road, Rylee being the first one into the passenger seat with his laptop. Elijah randomly and somewhat incredulously wondered if the younger man would have opted out of going back with him to D-79 if he fully understood this would happen.

He figured that none of them had done any previous planning to prepare for the utter shitstorm that had occurred in the last few months.

Once everyone was in the car, Sol was pressing her foot to the gas, the car screeching to life as it pulled out of the abandoned lot. Darrius was reloading a machine gun from the back seat, while somehow calming the nerves of Little Miss Hoffman beside him. Elijah peered out into the empty expanse of road ahead of them, no disturbances thus far.

Well, until Rylee's eyes visibly widened in the front mirror, tapping at his computer screen in disbelief. “We have five minutes.”

“Until?” Beth prompted.

“An army of three hundred attacks us.”

[laura]

”Is there an alternative route?” Sol barked from the driver’s seat, the sense of urgency in her voice growing stronger with each word. “Or am I going to continue to head toward our impending doom!?”

Rylee shook his head solemnly. “Stay off the roads…maybe?”

“Got it!” Without another word, Sol veered off the main road way, directing the vehicle through a parting in the tree line. They landed awkwardly, the car jolting its occupants forward, a string of curses following. They zigzagged through the foliage, darting blindly through the darkness of the forest, narrowly dodging tree after tree, Sol’s lightening fast reflexes the only thing between them and the thick trunks.

“No!” Rylee suddenly cried. “Not this way, it’s right into the path of –“ Bright lights flashed from their left, cutting the young man off, the contents of the car barley given a few seconds before they were slammed, knocking them off their course. The force was hard enough to send the vehicle lurching onto it’s side, glass smashing, screams and surprised cries echoing into the night.

Ryan saved Emma from the fall, his arm locking around her stomach, hugging her tightly into his side and shielding her from the worst of the crash, his belt had him locked in place, all while the remainder of the group cascaded into a heap.

“Fucking hell…”
“I think I’ve broken something.”
“I can’t breath – get off of me!”
“My laptop…it’s ruined!”
“What the fuck was that?”

Darrius’ voice boomed out across the chorus of complaints. “Everyone get out, now!”

Door latches sounded, the boot swung open and the group flooded out as quickly as their injured bodies could carry them. Before he released her, Ryan spoke breathlessly into her ear. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Emma nodded, her boots crunching onto the broken glass as she moved to follow behind Elijah. “C’mon.”

The pair crawled from the open boot and into chaos itself; reminding her very much of the garden mess not twenty-four hours ago. They’d been rammed by another vehicle, a truck twice the size of theirs, which explained how easily they’d managed to flip them.

Emma didn’t have time to gather her bearings; Ryan grabbed her by the arm, dragging her off toward the bushes. “Move it, Em.”
“But, Eli –“
“Move.”
Lights flashed, guns fired, cries of all kinds sounded, but Emma ran, unaware of the fate of the others, including Elijah.

Elijah.
She spied him from the corner of her eye, clutching at his abdomen as he leant unevenly against the trunk of a nearby tree, his face convulsed into a grimace. Emma stopped, tearing her arm free from Ryan’s hold. Moving up silently behind Elijah was a Triad guard, the insignia clear on his dark sleeve.

Emma blindly stepped forward, “Elijah!” He blinked, slowly raising his head to seek her out.
Ryan made another grab for her. “Emma, Jesus, get down!”
She ignored him, her feet closing the gap between herself and her injured man. “Elijah!”

“Fuck, Emma, no!”

Unaware of her surroundings, Emma had unintentionally stepped into a circular, darkened patch of grass, seen only by Ryan, seconds before it was too late. A crystal force-field rose up from the earth, trapping her within the confines of the circle.

[Ange Keating]

Elijah instantaneously whirled around, bringing a hard fist to the Triad member behind him as an audible crunch sounded underneath his fingers. Blood exploded from the blow, the man clutching his broken nose with a wail of displeasure just as the ex-agent grabbed his throat, jamming him into the bark with enough force to kill him. However, his thoughts all seemed to frenzy when the translucent forcefield shot up from the earth, encasing Emma in its confines as she tried to slam against the barrier.

“Emma!” he shouted, although his attempts went to vain just as a strong arm subdued him, forcing him into immediate submission. At that moment in time, Elijah wasn't even assessing his decisions; instead, he brought back his head with as much force as he could muster, undoubtedly stunning his captor.

“Go, Elijah!” she screamed, desperation burning in her eyes. She looked at the scene around her wildly, Triad members in trucks practically surrounding them.

“No,” he responded through grit teeth, removing the gun from his holster and firing a variety of different bullets at the forcefield in hopes it would give away.

“You're only wasting bullets!” A voice shouted behind him, although Elijah couldn't be bothered to identify who it was. He was only concerned with freeing a woman he absolutely would not love without. He would die right fucking here trying to save Emma if he had to.

Only, he didn't get the chance to. There was someone else on him; someone undoubtedly bigger, and a little stronger. And before he could so much as react, his legs collapsed from underneath him, his vision melding into a cornucopia of different colors, Emma's pleading face the last thing he saw before he completely blacked out.

***

Elijah awoke in a start, the cold metal stinging at his skin as he sat up. His head was throbbing, a mild sensation of nausea overwhelming him in spite of not having not eaten properly in at least forty eight hours. There were hands on him, forcing him back down.

“Don't move too quickly,” a soft voice instructed, and his heart lurched at the voice he had never heard before.

His jaw was taut, blood racing, memories of Emma being confined flooding back into his thoughts all at once. He couldn't stay here. He couldn't leave without her. He wouldn't.

Somehow his thoughts had translated into frazzled, incoherent words, and somehow, the other woman had understood them. “Emma? There is no Emma here, darling.”

He was thrashing again, pushing her hands away, taking in the brilliant flourescent lights and cabinets with different jars and medicines piled on it as he swung his legs out of bed. However, he had only moved an inch before a sharp pain shocked his entire right arm, eyes widening incredulously at the small tube that was bandaged there.

“What is this? What are you doing to me?” He interrogated furiously, not even trying to be polite when his thoughts were running so rampant.

“It's just a healing solution. It'll cure all your scars and cuts, and fix those fractured ribs of yours. It isn't too healthy to run around like that for long.”

“I need to go,” he grunted, vision focused on the door several yards away. The small windows surrounding the room were barricaded with metal bars that exuded a lavender hue, as if constructed to keep someone from getting out rather than in.

“Sweetheart,” she continued, her voice a little firmer. “You can't leave until the solution has fully entered your body.”

For the first time since Elijah had woken up, he turned to examine her features, eyes instinctively widening in response. The entirety of her face was covered by a stark, white mask, her body clad in matching, surgical white scrubs.

“Ah, it's working.” He could sense a triumphant smile from beneath her mask as she touched at the nearly-empty IV bag.

Elijah's line of sight gradually fell to his torso, lips parting in surprise as his fingers trembled over the large gash along his stomach that was already beginning to rapidly close. The bandages he had strapped around his waist were gone, the skin there smooth and clear.

He was so entranced by it he had seldom registered her hand on his forehead, body jerking defensively at the touch.

“Go back to bed, sweetheart. In a few hours you'll be as good as new.”

Elijah wanted to protest, wanted to rip the damn thing out of his arm and figure out what the hell was going on, but he found his body dropping back against the metal table, his eyelids heavy and hooded as her masked face hovered over his contently.

[laura]

The breath left her body in one large heave, forced from her by the icy water. It took her by surprise again and again, the bite worse than it was before. How could something that wasn’t even real hurt this much? Every inch of her felt it. Her muscles screamed. Her lungs protested. And deep inside, an inner voice cried for death, for a release from this torture.

Then, as quickly as the water had overtaken her, it vanished; washing away like it had never been there. Emma gasped as her airwaves cleared, her back arching against the hard surface of the table. She would have reached for her throat – hell, she tried to – but the chains locked around her wrists made it impossible.

They clanged uselessly against the metal, earning her a laugh from her captors.

“Think she’s had enough?”
“Not even close.”

The bright light above her face was suddenly blocked out, replaced with the all too familiar face of Henry Hoffman. The bastard was smiling, his crooked grin widening when her eyes locked with his.
“Hear that, little dove? Have you had enough yet?”

A glimmer of something shone from his right hand – the remote to the torture device currently locked around her skull. It was cause of all her pain thus far, shooting whatever images they thought were appropriate into her mind. They favoured the make-her-think-shes-drowning button the most.

Emma swallowed back the lump in her throat. All they wanted from her was answers, information on where the rest of her group was, where they were going, what they were going to do next, all that shit. She hadn’t answered a single one in the twenty-four hours that they’d had her for. Or had it been more? It sure felt like longer than a day, but in the prison she now found herself in, it was impossible to tell.

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” The words were chopped, her voice choked from the make believe water. Emma wasn’t going to give anything away that could endanger Elijah, not a single fucking word. She’d die first.
It was her own fault that she’d ended up in this mess, since after all, Emma was the one who’d stepped blindly out into the open, her whole world abruptly centred on Elijah and his safety. Nothing else mattered to her but him…

Henry shook his head in forged disappointment. “Wrong answer, little dove. Wrong answer.”

****

Emma stumbled into her cell, her legs immediately crumpling beneath her weight and sending her body colliding onto the stone floor.

They didn’t use the drowning button again. Oh no, there had been so many other options to choose from – many of which made her wish they’d bring the water back.

The cells were old school; really, really old school, with stone walls and floors, aged away by time, a sliding metal door, no windows and a small, grimy little toilet in the corner of the room. Since the rebellion had begun, Emma had stayed in a lot of crap holes, but this was something else, something worse.
Mainly because she’d had Elijah in all those other places.

Thinking about him only added one more ache to her growing list of pains.

For the first time since she’d met Elijah, Emma was once again alone. And she had no idea what she was going to do next.

[Ange Keating]

Elijah had woken up to a completely new change of scenery, the IV unplugged from his arm, a cotton shirt hanging loosely to his frame. Deep olive blankets covered him although they held a pungent smell he couldn't quite place. The room came into focus, a squalid area with dark, stone walls, a metal door, and a small walk-in bathroom that undoubtedly had to be out of commission. Furrowing his eyebrows together, he swung his legs out of bed, feet grazing against the shockingly cold floor before standing up.

To his surprise, he wobbled to the side, hand clutching the edge of the nightstand for support.

Where the hell was he?

Regardless, Elijah didn't have the patience to take that into consideration. He only had one sole focus – locating Emma and quickly. The last he had remembered involved her being trapped by a forcefield in the forest before he lost consciousness. Was she still out there? Was she with the Triad?

He pried open the door, the hinge crying in protest due to years of abandonment. And beyond it, things only got stranger. A long, narrow hallway extended for what felt like miles, a light dimly illuminating the path every few yards. He noticed several more doors down the way that looked exactly like his, some marred with unidentifiable substances. Elijah had walked through many repulsive places in his life time, but this had to top the list.

Once he had reached a bend in the hallway he noticed peculiar scratch marks extending across the length of the stone, as if someone had clawed at it in an obvious struggle. Elijah tried to watch his movements, tried to avoid shards of glass. He didn't want to create any noise and awake someone who could potentially stop him from his obvious goal. He'd map out where he was and retrace his steps back to the forest. From there, he'd look for answers.

“Eli!” A voice loudly whispered, startling him to a point where he was curling his fists together and bracing himself. It was only when he realized who the face was did his muscles relax, a tinge of relief flooding through him at the sight of a familiar person in the midsts of such weird surroundings.

Darrius instantly grabbed him and backed him into a shadow, eyes darting in every direction. “I don't have a good feelin' about this place.”

“Where are we?” Elijah hissed, irritated with the fact that he was still in the dark about all of this.

“Fairmont Insane Asylum,” the other man responded, just as he looked down at the shirt he was wearing, an identification number that had long since faded printed along his right breast.

“What the fuck are we doing in an insane asylum?” Elijah felt like he was teetering towards the brink of a break down, but forced himself to not get overworked about it. People weakened themselves by allowing their emotions to take the upper hand and the very last thing he needed was his performance to be hindered.

“We lost two of our men, the Triad was on our tail, and we needed quick shelter. We saw a sturdy-enough looking building off on an abandoned street and took shelter here. There were already some people hiding out here, but I don't trust them. We need to leave soon.”

Already thinking back to Emma, he glanced over his shoulder. “I have to go get Em. I have to find her.”

“Elijah--”

Tightening his jaw, he tried to keep his voice as quiet as possible whilst getting the message across. “If you try to stop me, just know I'm not giving up with a fight. I'm not leaving her.”

“Let me help.”

[laura]

How long had she been in this place? Two days? Four? Five? A week? There was no sense of time anymore, no indication of whether it was night or day; there was no break to her ‘visits’ and they weren’t supplying her with food or water, which was quickly resulting in her deterioration. She was finding it hard to do the simplest thing – walk, move, breathe.

Releasing a shuddering breath through her bone dry lips, Emma gave in to the darkness, head lolling uselessly to the side, her forehead connecting with the stone wall of her cell.

****

“Hello?”

“Young lady?”

“Can you hear me?”

The unfamiliar voice penetrated the fog of her mind, calling from some far off place, beckoning her from sleep and into a painful awareness. An involuntary whimper breathed passed her lips as she took in her empty cell – there was no-one there, the voice was coming from her delusional mind. That, or they were fucking with her again. But why would they use a voice she didn’t know? Wouldn’t they have used Elijah’s?

They’d already done that, after all, and they’d gotten the exact reaction they’d wanted the first time round.

Emma clenched her fists against her lap weakly, her fingers brushing against pieces of rubble laying there. What the hell? She frowned and inspected it closer. It matched the stone that made up her cell, like small broken up parts of it. When the thought ran through her mind, another wave rained down on her, dusty debris landing in her hair, face and lap.

Emma looked up, seeking out the source, only to find herself looking at a small indent in the wall, a hole about the size of her fist. That explained where the rubble of coming from.

“Hello?” The unfamiliar male voice sounded once more, only this time it didn’t sound so far away. It was coming from the hole.

Sitting up, Emma forced her head back enough to be able to see who it was that was talking to her. There, peering through the wall, was a pair of light green eyes, topped by two greying eyebrows. They noticeably crinkled in a smile, making the wrinkles around them more prominent, when her gaze met with his. “You’re alive.”
She stared at him blankly. “W-Who are…you?”
“My name is Pete Aplin. What’s yours?”
“Emma…” Her brain ticked over at the mention of his name; through the haze, something told her she should know who he was. That it was important.

His eyes softened. “Are you alright, Emma?”

What was it?
Think, think, think! Pete…Pete…Pete…

“Emma? Hello?”
With a thoughtful grimace, Emma murmured. “I’m trying to think…about where I know you from. But my brain won’t…focus. I can just about remember on my name.” And Elijah. She’d need to be put in a coma to stop thinking about him.
“Because you’re hungry,” He said simply, momentarily vanishing from sight. When he returned, his hand appeared through the hole. “Eat this. I have more if you want it.”

A piece of bread bounced off her chest as he dropped it, landing on her arm.
“And Emma? About where you’ve heard my name before…you weren’t much into politics, back when things were normal, were you?”
“No.” She answered, raising the bread to her lips. “Why?”
“Because I’ve never had to remind anyone of who I am before. I’m Peter Aplin, President of the Northern Districts.”

[Ange Keating]

Fairmont Insane Asylum was a narrow, brick structure that extended six floors and was surrounded by a dauntingly large forest. The two men exited from the wrought-iron front doors, moving to the center of the property before surveying the area.

“Do you remember which way we ran from?” Elijah questioned, glancing back at Darrius as he observed the canopy of leaves above him. It had to be fifty degrees or less outside, the frigid cold nipping at his already taut skin and being trapped in by the overhanging growth.

“Had to be east,” he responded, pointing in the corresponding direction.

Without wasting much time, they were off on their feet once again, keeping every step light in fear someone would hear. Darrius hadn't been lying about the general creepy vibe that radiated from the old asylum, and in spite of Elijah attempting to convince to stay back and keep an eye on the group, the other had insisted he offer back up in an Emma rescue mission.

He tried not to get his emotions involved, tried not to let it hinder his performance, but he couldn't help but let the fear of the unknown coil in the pit of his stomach. There was no way of knowing her status right now, and the fact that he was oblivious to it considerably bothered him more and more.

This only quickened his movements, Elijah charging eastward through the backwoods, arms pushing any branches out of his way as Darrius quickly followed behind.

“Elijah!” he shouted from behind him.

He couldn't even spare a glance over his shoulder, the fervency intensifying to a point where someone else's words were only jumbled vowels and consonants to him.

“Elijah! There's a --”

The other's words fell on deaf ears as he felt his ankles instantly buckle underneath him, his vision blending a cornucopia of colors together. He attempted to claw at dirt and grass in hopes he could suspend himself, but all attempts were futile. The feeling of disorientation lasted several more seconds until he felt the immediate shock of ice water; it was enough to stiffen every limb in his body and stifle any attempts of him trying to save himself from such conditions.

However, the feeling didn't last for long. What felt like two arms dragged him out of the stream and onto firm land, fingers getting ready to pinch the bridge of his nose for CPR until he was shivering and coughing up excess water. At first Elijah thought he was hallucinating at the face hovering over him, but then the image sharpened, piercing blue eyes analyzing him and silver-white hair shining against the moonlight.

Landry?

He was too stunned to even summon a response, although that could have been partially due to the fact he was suffering from borderline hypothermia.

“I assume you're looking for someone,” he announced, breaking the silence.

Elijah simultaneously realized his ex-boss wasn't alone, Ethan, smiles and all, stood next to him. He wasn't sure whether to run or indulge in the conversation. The former would have been the optimal option had his legs practically not been frozen.

Darrius was protection enough though, finger's twitching against his holster in case he would have to pull out a gun quick.
“A certain red head,” Landry continued, patting his chest lightly. “Don't look so upset. We're on you're side.”

“Where is she?” Elijah instantly retorted, trying to keep his voice even.

“The prison,” he responded. “Would you like us to take you there?”

He didn't even have to ask.

[laura]

Peter Aplin, despite the dire situation, hadn’t lost his spirit. There wasn’t a subject he wasn’t optimistic about – Was there hope? Always. Were they going to be rescued before Hoffman decided to kill them? Naturally. Would America recover from this hell? Of course. Whenever Emma was left alone, he’d talk to her; ask her questions about her life, about the world outside the stone walls.

She’d learned a number of things in the hours that they’d known one another. One, Hoffman had worked with the Vice President to kidnap him, where they’d quickly hidden him away within the prison. Two, the prison had been the starting point of Hoffman’s Triad army; hidden beneath an arena located somewhere near D-67. No-one had any suspicions that it was even there. 

Emma was in the process of asking if he knew what they planned to do with him (after all, the American people thought he was dead already), when the door mechanism was turned to her cell.

“Be brave.” Peter hissed at her, his eyes sad but bright through the hole before he vanished from sight.

Emma braced herself as the door slid open, trying to will her knees up to meet her chest. Be brave? What else could they do to her that hadn’t already been done?

Two sets of heavy boots trudged into her cell, the black leather neatly polished and catching the light shinning from the hallway. Her eyes trailed up their black clad legs, the Triad insignia clearly stitched into their jumpers, then to the only part of their bodies that weren’t covered – and paused, blinking numerous times at the faces that were currently grinning down at her.

Nigel and Ray, two faces she never thought she’d see again, were suddenly in the room with her, chip free and working for Henry Hoffman. Well, wasn’t that a surprise? They’d caved in and joined the side that had appeared to be winning; the spineless little bastards. There was no doubt in her mind that Amanda was around her somewhere as well and it was only a matter of time before she showed her face too.

Nigel let out a long sigh, his face cracking into a wide grin. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to do this?”
Ray sniggered, then nudged his friend in the side. “Best get it done quickly, man. We don’t have time for pleasantries.”
Nodding, Nigel murmured his agreement. “True. When will I have a chance to do this again? They’re killing her tomorrow.”

Then, without another word, Ray stepped forward, locking onto her ankles and tugging her forcefully away from the wall, all while Nigel closed the door, sealing the three of them inside.

Emma could feel her heart pounding in her ears as the blond took over from his muscular buddy, taking her calves into his tight grip and parting her legs. Ray was abruptly on his knees behind her, catching her arms and pinning them to the floor, rending her immobile.

Oh, hell, no. This wasn’t going to happen.
Emma would die first.

When Nigel worked at his belt buckle, she kicked out, her knee knocking into his side, making him stumble, his hands dropped from his pants to reveal the bright spotted boxers underneath, something along the lines of ’Sex God’ written across the front of them.
“Jesus,” He cursed, righting himself. “Keep her fucking still!”

“Get off me!” Emma cried out, kicking out wildly, fighting with all the strength she had left in her body.

His hands were everywhere, her legs now pinned down beneath his as he worked at her zipper. “I thought this was going to be harder,” Nigel breathed, jerking the material over her hips. “The infamous Emma Ward, doing the impossible by spreading her thighs. How many people said a crowbar was needed to do this job?”

Nothing was working, no matter how hard she fought back, she was too weak and too useless to anything other than let him get away with whatever he wanted to do.

“No!” She screamed, her voice hitching as a sob caught in her throat. They could torture her in every which way, but this? This wasn’t something she could take.

“Shh,” He soothed, moving down her body, his head now between her knees, eyes locked onto her own. “This is going to be oh so sweet.”

Pure instinct and adrenaline took over a second later and Emma closed her legs, trapping his head there. He didn’t have time to fight back or to even realise what was happening, before Emma twisted her hips, a distinctive ’crack’ sound following.