Chapter Text
Time ceases to matter. Enemies move towards him in slow motion, and he only has to blink for them to disappear. The walls shake with his fury. Glass shatters all around him, leaving tiny cuts on his neck, face, Lee's arms. He banishes the shards with a thought and protectively cradles Lee. Gently, he coaxes the needles from his friend's skin and only vaguely registers the sound of the alarms.
When the last needle slides out of Lee's back, Richard picks him up and carefully puts him over his shoulder. He flicks his wrist towards the device Lee spent God knows how long strapped to, and watches with dark satisfaction as the metal twists and curls in on itself until it is nothing more than an iron ball.
He turns and the tables part before him, legs screeching as they drag across the floor. James is nowhere to be seen, but he does notice that the door is back in place, and that several people in white coats are fruitlessly banging against it.
The room is a treasure trove of cords and wires, and stringing the frantic scientists together requires less than ten seconds. Some of them cry, plead for mercy, while others observe him with fake calm. He ignores them, sends the last guard that comes rushing towards him flying, and lays his palm flat against the door.
Even James's superstrength is no match for him, and the door slowly but steadily gives way until he can step through it. James gapes at him on the other side, and twists his head to look through the gap. "Fuck me," he mutters.
"We're leaving." James just nods and lets Richard lead the way. The alarms are still going, but they encounter no resistance as they trace their way back to the building's main stairway. Lee's heart beats softly but steadily against his back and, little by little, his frenzy drains away. Which is regretful when they discover that the ground floor has acquired a dozen armed men since they last passed through.
James flattens himself back against the wall. "Can you handle them?" he hisses.
Richard dubiously shakes his head.
"I'll draw them off then, make a lot of noise and slam through the back wall. Once they start following me, you'll be free to find another way out." James gives him a hard, undecipherable look that fades into a cheeky grin. "Can't let you have all the fun."
"Be careful," Richard mutters right before the pillar closest to him shatters like a sheet of glass, then another a short distance away. He glances around the edge of the wall he's hiding behind, and watches as the guards begin to track James. He tries to help his teammate by causing the dust to billow, obscuring the guards' view and leaving them to rely only on the loud ruckus. Once all but three have left, he makes his move.
He sends the first guard crashing into one of his friends, and aims a particularly large brick at the third's head. After making sure they're unconscious, he heads for the front door.
It is still unlocked, just the way he left it, and he quietly slips through. There is no cover between him and the street. With one arm wrapped around Lee, he sprints away from the building, not stopping until he is obscured behind a few crates located some distance away. Lee is still out cold, and he realizes with a sudden lurch that he can't use his bike with the state his friend is in. The noise from his earpiece suggests that James is still leading the enemy on a merry chase, which means he won't be able to avail him of his car, either.
Just as he has made up his mind to try his first carjacking and face James's inevitable wrath later, a familiar vehicle skids to a halt next to him. He rips open the rear passenger door, and manoeuvres himself and Lee inside. Graham barely waits for him to close the door before speeding off.
It takes a few minutes for Richard to arrange them in a comfortable position. He ends up with Lee's head and torso settled on his lap, and he presses his fingers gently to Lee's neck. The pulse is irregular, but strong enough that it shouldn't be cause for immediate worry. Graham keeps shooting him concerned looks through the rear-view mirror, but Richard ignores it for the moment and punches James's number on his pad.
"Bit busy," James pants.
"Where are you? I'm coming to help."
"No need, just a few stragglers left. Freefall is en route anyway, it won't take him long. How is he?"
Richard looks down at Lee. "Alive."
"Thank God for that."
"Isn't Freefall supposed to be monitoring the riot?"
James makes a sound that resembles a chuckle. "I guess you really were out of it. He called while you were having your maniacal episode. Whatever was affecting the people suddenly just stopped."
"He disabled the satellite?" Lee stirs fretfully, and Richard gently strokes his hand along Lee's face and over his hair until the small frown lines fade away.
"Couldn't crack it, he said. Must've been all the equipment you wrecked."
He tries to remember what exactly he did in that horrible lab, but most of the apparatus he saw looked like the sort of things used in hospitals, not the machinery needed to cause a cross-section of the population to lose their free will. There was that separate area, however -- a glass window to allow them to observe what happened within the lab, while controlling it from a safe distance.
A horrible suspicion begins to form, and he has to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths when the car begins to rattle dangerously.
"Richard," Graham says, a thread of fear audible beneath the calm facade.
"I know," Richard bites out through grit teeth.
"You lot all right?"
He lets the rest of his anger go on the next exhale. "Fine. Don't let them get a punch in."
"As if," James scoffs. Richard disconnects with a faint smile, and switches to the open channel.
"This is Poltergeist. I have the White King. Heading to the Carrock." He waits for the whooping and relieved expletives to die down, and meets Graham's gaze in the mirror. "Requesting permission to allow a civilian inside the Carrock."
That shuts everyone up very quickly. For once, he doesn't care that there is a hint of belligerence in his tone.
Aidan is the first to break the silence. "If this is the bloke that helped you find our King, then I don't have a problem with it."
It causes a different sort of uproar.
"Wait, why did nobody fucking think to tell the rest of us?"
"Since when are we involving civilians?"
"I knew there was a guy!"
"I will take full responsibility," Richard says, trying to make himself heard above the arguing. "He has my complete trust."
"The White King's safety must take precedence," Ian says. "I think an exception can be made today."
Richard is about to thank him when nails suddenly dig into his arm with surprising strength. "It's all right," he soothes, "you're fine now." He ignores the renewed chatter in his ear.
Lee stops trying to claw his arm off, but the force of his grip doesn't lessen. "Luke," he mutters before a coughing fit overwhelms him. Richard adjusts his hold on Lee so that he is at least mostly upright, and waits for his breathing to return to normal.
"Luke is fine. He doesn't even realize you were missing."
"No, it's--" The next attack is even more severe, and Lee is left shaking by the end of it, panting harshly. There's a trickle of blood flowing down his cracked lip, and Richard's heart seizes with fear. "It's him, he did it," Lee finally manages to gasp out. "Drugs, I don't--"
"Calm down," Richard orders, and rubs Lee's back in circles until he grows still.
Right then. First things first.
He manages to retrieve his phone with some difficulty, and quickly types the Carrock's coordinates into the map application before handing it to Graham. Graham takes it with a nod, and Richard turns his attention to his teammates.
"Freefall, can you track Luke Evans's location now?"
"Do I still have a phone on me?" Richard can almost hear him rolling his eyes. "Is the King asking for him?"
"He's our culprit."
"Freefall, those coordinates are mine." The rage in Evangeline's voice mirrors his own.
"I'm coming with you," Martin says.
"The rest of us will meet you at the Carrock."
"Our ETA is..." He lifts his head, and Graham mouths the answer. "Seven minutes, hopefully. Poltergeist out."
"So that's your moniker," Graham remarks after he hangs up. There's an excited glint in his eyes and amusement in his voice, and Richard's lips twitch. "Sounds intimidating."
"Are you implying I'm not?" Richard retorts.
Graham laughs softly. A twitch against his chest makes him look down at Lee's ghost of a smile.
He brushes a stray lock of brown hair away from Lee's clammy forehead. "Oh, I see. Is this how it'll be from now on? As if one of you mocking me wasn't enough."
"With love," Lee mumbles, echoing the sentiment in Graham's clear eyes, and Richard lets himself be suffused with the sudden onslaught of emotion.
It feels surprisingly like home.
The Carrock is not at all what Graham expects. It is situated on the edge of the city, in a nondescript neighbourhood, surrounded by other nondescript houses in a nondescript street. The only thing setting it apart from the rest is the sophisticated electronic lock hidden by the front door. Richard sets the White King on his feet and keeps an arm wrapped around his waist as he types in the code. He looks at Graham, and nods his head slightly towards his friend's other side.
The White King stumbles on his feet within their grasp, but they do manage to make it past the front door without anyone falling. And that's when Graham decides he must be dreaming.
"Would you mind?" Richard asks, jerking his thumb at a set of two wheelchairs placed against a nearby wall. Graham lingers to make sure Richard has a firm hold on the White King, and then tries very hard not to stare like a wide-eyed child as he unfolds the wheelchair and pushes it towards them. He trails behind the pair as Richard efficiently takes them through well-equipped rooms and corridors, each more awe-inspiring than the next. There is at least one small operating theatre, a medical laboratory, and recovery rooms that almost look more comfortable than his own bedroom. It appears to be a fully functioning clinic, hidden entirely behind the facade of a boring, suburban house.
"Is there a doctor here, too?"
"We've all had basic emergency training," Richard informs him as they finally arrive in a room that appears to house an MRI scanner (if scanners come from a different universe -- it looks nothing like the ones Graham has seen). He shores the White King up, settles him on the bed, and sets about divesting the injured hero of the remainder of his clothes with an ease that tells Graham he's done it before. "Do you need help lying down?"
The White King shakes his head and carefully rests on the bed, not quite able to hide a wince as his back settles against the hard mattress.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"There's a first aid kit in that cupboard there." He follows the direction of Richard's pointed finger, and finds the aforementioned kit inside.
Kit, he says. It is heavy enough that he can feel the pull on his muscles.
He busies himself unpacking the contents of the case while Richard fiddles with the scanner. He didn't get a good look at the White King's injuries, but antiseptic and bandages will be needed at the very least. He puts the bottle of general-purpose antibiotics out as well, and looks around him for a source of clean, hot water.
There's a small sink nestled in one corner, with an electric kettle next to it. A little more digging leads him to the shelves holding a variety of metallic bowls and soft towels. He gathers his newfound bounty, and waits for the scan to be completed.
"I don't think there's any internal damage," Richard says. His shoulders sag, and Graham is aching to go to him and offer some tangible comfort. But he stays where he is and waits until the White King is seated on the edge of the bed before pushing the convenient movable table towards them.
"I could handle his chest while you deal with his back," he suggests. Richard smiles, and they quietly set to work. It reminds him of the few times he had to patch Andy up after one of his private expeditions. He gentles his touch and slathers the dark bruises with salve. Most of the damage seems to be on Richard's side, so when Graham finishes he begins cutting strips of bandages.
Between them, they have the White King's chest wrapped within ten minutes. "Vimmy should take a look at your scans just in case, but I think you'll recover just fine. Your throat has a few lacerations though, so you know what that means."
The White King grimaces in a very un-king-like manner. "I hate those pills," he mutters.
"Nobody said anything about having to like them," Richard informs him, but Graham notices that he breaks the large tablet in half and adds one smaller pill before handing them over with a glass of water. "Let's get you settled."
He lets the White King pick out his preferred room. Graham has to bite his lip to keep a foolish grin off his face. He waits in the hallway, allowing them a little privacy, but it doesn't take long for Richard to step back out and softly close the door.
"He fell asleep," he explains. "The sedative acts very fast." Now that his work is done, Graham can see exhaustion start to creep in.
"Is there somewhere to sit down?" He puts a hand on Richard's shoulder, half afraid he may simply topple over.
"Through there." Graham nods, and tugs on Richard's arm in order to steer him towards the nearest couch. Richard isn't moving, however, and Graham turns back with a question upon his lips.
Richard just smiles and pulls him in closer, first by his hand and then by his collar when that comes within reach. An eager mouth brushes against his, arms twine around his neck, and Graham lets Richard's gravity reel him in. He pushes Richard against the wall and meets his hunger beat for beat. The edge of the mask scrapes against his chin, rough and abrasive, but it only fuels his intoxication.
Someone loudly clears a throat behind them, and Graham is yanked out of the kiss with a start.
"Oh, don't mind us," one of the four people observing them with various amounts of amusement fairly purrs.
"So this is your civilian?" The shortest offers his hand and firmly shakes Graham's. "I'm Firecracker."
"Graham. It's an honour to meet you."
Firecracker's smile turns into a sharp grin. "I like him already."
"Don't encourage him," one of the others says. Graham pegs him as the youngest. "He needs to get his head out of his arse, not further up. Freefall, nice to meet you. Thanks for helping us out today."
A light touch on his shoulder almost makes him jump. A young man with short, dark hair and sparse facial hair is giving him a leer. He's the only one without a mask. "Impressive," he says. Next to him, Richard buries his face in his hands. "You mind if I borrow him sometime?"
"Yes!" Richard hisses. Graham grins with delight.
The man sighs. "Pity. Call me if you're ever in the mood for something more exciting," he says with a wink. "My name's Illusion, but you can call me Orlando."
The thin man Graham remembers glimpsing near the abductors' base crosses his arms. "And I'm Vimmy, now do we have to keep standing here or do we get to check on the White King?"
"He's asleep, but I left his scans open for you on the laptop." Vimmy nods and heads to the MRI room with a cheeky little wave. "Where's Mesmer?"
"He took our new pet to the dungeon," Orlando says. He and Richard share a look that make the fine hairs on Graham's nape stand on edge.
"I hope you managed to bring him in without much trouble?" Richard asks, his tone suggesting it would make him very happy indeed if there'd been a lot of trouble.
"We may have delivered him to Mesmer a little the worse for wear," Firecracker answers cheerfully. "You know how it is, bloody irregular powers. Can't always control the burn degree."
Richard grin is sharp. "You're absolutely right."
It's almost disturbing enough to make Graham wonder if he'll ever adjust to this strange new life. But then Richard turns his head towards him, grin fading to something soft and a little shy, and he thinks it may just be worth it.
Ian calls a meeting three days later. Lee insists on coming along, against James's loud objections and Richard's softer pleas. But he's well on his way to recovery and entirely steady on his feet, and Richard has a feeling he would've walked to Ian's studio if they'd tried to keep him away. He does stay close by Lee's side, however -- just in case.
"I've spent the last two days in the company of Luke Evans," Ian begins. "He was quite talkative after a gentle nudge. And I'm afraid this incident goes much deeper than we realized."
It sounds like a tale so fantastical it could've come straight from one of Lee's conspiracy theories, or his (secret but extensive) science fiction collection. A covert organization, recruiting normal people to observe superheroes from close quarters and report back on their lives, their powers, their weaknesses, how to best exploit them. Wait for the appropriate time and, with the help of a drug cocktail, whisk the superhero off to their lab.
"This organization appears to take security and confidentiality very seriously, and even Luke did not know what would happen to Lee after he had fulfilled his role." His kind eyes seek out Lee's. "I think it is your turn to tell us what you remember."
Lee's stony expression betrays nothing. "Very little, actually. I was pretty out of it for the most part, but I did wake up once they started stabbing me with needles. Made it a bit harder for them after that, and I guess they couldn't pump me full of more drugs because they needed me lucid for their...experiment." Richard shifts closer and puts his hand within reach. Lee grabs it without a moment's hesitation. "I don't understand how it works, but I think they were channelling my power and using it somewhere else. I don't know what for."
It echoes what Richard already suspected, but a glance around the room shows him that most of his teammates hadn't made the connection yet. Aside from Ian, Aidan is the only one who looks unsurprised.
"They incited a riot on the east side. Evangeline was the only one not affected by it, so we did suspect it was some form of hormone manipulation." Lee nods, but Richard can feel the sudden tension thrumming through his body.
He leans a little closer, and whispers, "Nobody was harmed." Lee slumps into him with a soft, pained sound. He suddenly feels eyes on them, and looks up to find Evangeline watching them with rapt attention.
Or perhaps she's simply watching Lee, Richard muses as her eyes stray to his friend.
"I have arranged it so that Luke will forget his capture and little visit to our dungeon completely," Ian is saying. "But I did leave a subconscious suggestion that he should report any further dealings with this organization to us. As much as we would all like to see him disappear completely from our lives, I do believe having a spy in their midst will be profitable in the future. It may give us warning before they strike again." His eyes scan the serious faces around the room. "We must all be more careful from now on. They will be actively looking for more superheroes to use in their endeavours."
The next twenty minutes are spent discussing increased and improved security, and potential ideas for a pre-emptive offensive strike. Neither the subject of Graham nor Richard's sudden increase in power come up (although from the pointed looks he's given, Ian is clearly only biding his time), and he sighs with undisguised relief as the meeting draws to a close. Lee shoots him a fond smile.
"Let's pass by your flat so you can pack a bag," Richard suggests. "I'm not prepared to spend the next few weeks with you constantly complaining about my wardrobe."
Lee readily agrees. They're about to retrieve their coats when Evangeline walks up to them. Richard glances between them and clears his throat. "I'll fetch our coats," he says, and quickly makes himself scarce.
He lingers at the arch leading to the hallway. Evangeline seems to be speaking rapidly, her hands making agitated little gestures. Lee simply looks stoic, leaving him unable to guess at the topic of their conversation. But then Evangeline throws her arms around Lee, and after a moment of shock, Lee hugs her back. Richard glimpses a soft smile on Lee's face before he turns his head into Evangeline's tumbling brown locks.
It's with a lighter heart that he gets their coats, and he doesn't say anything when it takes Lee another ten minutes to finally meet him at the door. He bites his tongue as they begin the short walk to Lee's soon to be former flat, but when Lee's lips turn up into a decidedly sappy smile, he can't stop himself from asking, "Does this mean there's finally some progress?"
Lee ducks his head, but Richard notices the light flush anyway. "She just wanted to make sure I was doing okay."
The fragile hope in his voice tells Richard all he needs to know.
Richard's new house guest puts the brakes on their budding relationship. Graham doesn't actually mind (much; Richard absolutely refuses to let him spend the night with someone else in his flat, and even though they only shared a bed once, Graham misses having the other man next to him), and finds surprising enjoyment in the simple things -- dinner, film nights and the occasional game board session. He even grows to enjoy Lee's ("You've already seen me half naked, I don't think there's much point in hiding my name anymore") company, and comes to the realization that they see eye to eye on many things. They both have a vested interest in Richard's continued happiness and well-being, for example. Lee doesn't seem convinced that Graham is the one to ensure that, but Graham feels fairly confident in his ability to change Lee's mind.
Eventually.
His certainty receives an unexpected blow during Scrabble, of all things.
Lee waits until Richard excuses himself to salvage dinner. "So, Graham," he begins cheerfully, "I'd say we've gotten to know each other pretty well now, don't you?"
The seemingly innocuous statement puts Graham on edge. "I'm glad to hear you say so," he carefully says.
"You're a pretty nice guy, although you do get vicious when it comes to games." Graham doesn't bother to hide his grin at that. "And I absolutely approve of your positive influence on Richard's costume choices. You have no idea how long I've tried to get him to change something."
"You're welcome, I think?"
The smile slips away and is replaced by a melancholic expression. "After my recent experiences, I guess I'm a little more suspicious of people's intentions. Being so stupidly blindsided in your own house really makes you think."
Graham shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "You can't blame yourself for what that tosser did," he gruffly says. "I think you're a cautious man, and I'm sure you took every possible precaution before inviting him into your life."
Lee sighs. "Still wasn't enough, though. Guess it just goes to show that you can't believe everything you see." His eyes take on a sharpness that seems to see right through Graham, down to his very essence. "I will definitely be much more vigilant now. And not just for me, but for those I care about too. I just can't stand seeing any of them hurt, you know? Physically or emotionally. If anything happened, I'd have to take pretty drastic measures."
If Lee were anyone else, Graham would have laughed. But he has seen enough to know that Lee's lanky, pleasant exterior hides a steel core. Not someone to trifle with, or whose threats should be taken lightly.
Richard comes back before Graham has formulated a satisfactory response, and Lee instantly perks up, the picture of innocence and cheer, not a trace left of the manipulative bastard he just encountered. They finish the game without any further incidents, and Lee pleads exhaustion after dinner, finally leaving the two of them alone.
The door to Lee's bedroom is barely shut when Richard's hands push his shoulders back against his chair. His eyes gleam darkly with demands, and Graham tugs him down and slides his tongue between Richard's inviting lips without preamble. It takes very little to rile them both up these days, and Graham growls when Richard pulls away. Richard's smile is fond, his touch oddly gentle despite the rather insistent evidence of his arousal. Graham represses a sigh, and silently resigns himself to another night of only his fist for company.
A soft gust of breath wafts over his ear, followed by Richard's teasing tongue. "I'm taking a day off tomorrow," he murmurs.
"More flat hunting?" Graham chokes out, hands tightening on Richard's thighs.
"Yes, but Freefall is going with him instead. Their first appointment is at nine, and they've made arrangements with several different agents." It's hard to focus on Richard's words when his hand teasingly strokes over Graham's chest and further down, while completely skirting the area demanding its immediate attention. He nuzzles the skin behind Richard's ear, and Richard leans into it with a soft, happy sound.
It finally sinks in a few minutes later. "You're saying you'll be here, all alone, most of tomorrow." Richard looks a little dazed, but manages to nod.
Graham grins and gives him a fierce kiss. "I am spending the night on the couch."
Richard's unfettered laugh is answer enough.
FIN