Chapter Text
It was at that moment that New York exploded. Or, more precisely, the Statue of Liberty exploded, staining the sky with a fiery cloud of destruction. All four of them, Setrakian, Fet, Dutch, and Quinlan, currently in the process of pushing the lead and silver coffin trapping the Master toward the water, froze. They shielded their eyes as the blast exploded outward, stopping for a moment in bewilderment at the sudden explosion before Fet broke the silence.
“Get to cover!” He pushed Dutch behind the concrete, Setrakian following. “Behind the wall! Come on!”
The three retreated to cover, while Quinlan stared, mesmerized by the explosion unfolding in front of him. The blast expanded outward; it was much, much bigger than the bomb that had destroyed the Ancients’ headquarters.
“Quinlan!” He realized his mistake a second too late. Fet’s yell was cut off as the blast hit him square in the face. It blew Quinlan backward, taking the coffin with him. He was tossed several yards back and slammed into a concrete pillar.
He awoke feeling strangely nauseous, like someone had kicked him in the gut with a silver boot. Quinlan pushed himself upright, leaning on the pillar for support as he turned to check the coffin. It had to be closed. All they had worked for would be lost if he had escaped. But the coffin was open, and his fears were confirmed as Quinlan looked inside to see it was empty.
“He’s gone.”
No. This couldn’t be happening. The Master had been right there. He had been locked in a silver coffin, soon to be at the bottom of an ocean, and now he could be anywhere or anyone. Quinlan scanned the area, but it was hopeless.
Setrakian looked inside the coffin as well, then scanned the immediate area in the same way Quinlan had done, but the Master was nowhere to be found.
The four of them turned around, the sky was now a bronze orange, the sun blocked out by the fallout. The dark cloud from the explosion cut into the sky, sizzling in front of them. Quinlan had never failed so terribly.
Setrakian knew that since Palmer had been turned, the Master would know where the other bomb was, but he wasn’t exactly sure how it had been set off. Eph was the only one who had remained at Stoneheart, but now they would likely never see him again.
“Oh my god.” Dutch muttered, echoing the others’ thoughts as they stared at the scene in front of them.
“If the fallout blows this way, then we’re not going to have to worry about the Strigoi, we’ll be glowing. We got to get underground.” Fet said. Dutch looked like she agreed.
Quinlan looked around, obviously still scanning the area in vain for the Master. “We have to find him.”
“You want to get irradiated, be my guest.” Fet replied, glaring at Quinlan. He turned and headed off, Dutch close behind him.
Setrakian stayed back for a moment, staring at the orange sky. “The occultation.” He observed, then followed after Fet and Dutch.
Quinlan was left there for a moment, pondering his options. He could go after the Master, but it was unlikely he’d be able to find him again, and even more unlikely that he’d be able to successfully capture him again. With no other viable option and the exhaustion from the blast sinking in, Quinlan turned and followed after the others.
They headed down into a subway tunnel, once the nesting place of the Strigoi, now empty, as they could wander the streets in daylight.
Fet led the way, as he knew the tunnels like no other. Fet had no idea what they were supposed to do now that the Master was free again. They didn’t have the time to regroup and come up with new options anymore. If they survived the nuclear fallout and managed not to get sick and die of radiation poisoning, maybe they would have another shot, but for now, Fet was leading them to the safest place he knew of in the tunnels.
They walked for hours, climbing down ladders as they descended further and further underground. Fet could tell Setrakian was slowing down, and Quinlan was hunched over. Dutch gripped his hand tightly, even though only hours ago they had been arguing. Fet took a left turn and led them down another tunnel.
The place he had in mind was the main control station for the subway. It had surveillance, which would allow them to watch for any Strigoi activity nearby. It was also stocked with a small kitchen, which Fet hoped would provide them with food for a time.
The group entered the room; Fet flicked on the lights and closed the door behind them. It was one room, with the small kitchen separated from the rest of the room by a counter. There was a table with four chairs by the counter, and on the opposite wall a desk was set up with several monitors displaying the empty subway stations. In the center of the room was a faded couch. Dutch made straight for the kitchen, looking for alcohol of some kind. Setrakian sat down at the desk, pushing aside keyboards as he set the Lumen down and opened it.
Fet wanted to tell Setrakian to take a break, that he should rest for a moment before throwing himself back into work, but he knew Setrakian wouldn’t listen. Fet sat down with a sigh at the table near the counter and watched Dutch flinging open cabinets. Quinlan slid into one of the chairs at the table as well.
“Yes!” Dutch exclaimed as she found a small bottle in the fridge. She popped the cap off and sat down next to Fet.
“How long will that food last you?” Quinlan asked.
“About two weeks if we ration it.” Fet replied.
“How long do you plan to hide down here?”
“Until we can think of a new plan or find a way out of New York. In case you haven’t realized, a nuke just destroyed the Statue of Liberty, or did the radiation melt your muncher brain when the blast hit you?”
Quinlan didn’t reply.
“We mustn’t fight among ourselves, that’s what the Master would want. We must remain united against him.” Setrakian said, turning to Fet and Quinlan.
Fet straightened up in his chair, like he was about to defend himself, but stopped when Setrakian collapsed.
“Professor!” Fet exclaimed, jumping up from his chair and rushing over. Setrakian sat up slowly, coughing. “Professor, are you okay?” Fet asked.
“Yes, I, I’m just a little tired.”
“You should rest.” Fet said. He and Dutch helped Setrakian over to the couch. He laid down and Fet felt his head. “He has a fever.”
“We need Eph.” Dutch said.
“Eph is probably dead.” Fet replied angrily, “He’s not much use to us now.”
“The blast did not kill us, perhaps your friend is still alive. He would know how to treat radiation poisoning.” Quinlan pointed out.
“We don’t know that he has radiation poisoning!” Fet argued.
“Well, we did just see a nuke go off, so it's a safe guess.” Dutch reasoned.
Fet sighed, walking to the kitchen, and looking around in the cabinets.
“What are you looking for?” Dutch asked.
“Some medicine.”
Quinlan sighed, slumping further into his chair, “It’s unlikely the former occupants of this place had any of the drugs required to treat him.”
Fet shot a glare in Quinlan’s direction and continued to dig through the cabinets and drawers. After almost half an hour, he finally gave up and took a seat at the surveillance desk.
Dutch took what was left of her bottle of tequila and pulled two of the chairs out from the table, setting them up so she could put her feet up. She watched as Fet scanned the screens, looking for any Strigoi. Dutch could tell he hated being stuck waiting with no plan. He was trying to occupy himself by keeping watch.
It had almost worked. Their plan had almost worked. Now they were stuck hiding underground, with the Master free and New York ground zero for the radioactive fallout. They had no idea what had happened to Eph, if he was alive, or where he was.
The night passed slowly, or at least Dutch assumed it was night. Setrakian slept on the couch, and Fet had fallen asleep at the surveillance station, his head resting on the open Lumen. Quinlan was asleep too, or at least he appeared to be. He had his hood pulled over his face, and was leaned back in his chair.
Dutch sipped her tequila, wondering if this was the last booze she would ever taste. She had been exposed to the same radiation Setrakian had, so it might only be a matter of time before she got sick as well. And if she didn’t, they still only had around two weeks’ worth of food, and then they’d have to leave or starve.
Unlike the others, Dutch couldn’t seem to fall asleep. She scanned the room repeatedly, got up and took an inventory of the food and supplies they had, and dragged her chair behind Fet’s to watch the security feed. She noticed a clock on the far corner, which told her it was in fact night. It was just after midnight on a Tuesday. Dutch hadn’t actually remembered the date in weeks.
An hour later, Dutch had another idea. She walked over to Fet, and pushed him off the chair onto the floor, taking his chair as her own. Then she rolled around the small room like a child. Dutch had no idea why she did this. She was an adult, rolling around in an office chair somewhere deep underground New York City, because a nuke had just detonated, allowing the Strigoi to walk around whenever they pleased. The whole thing would have sounded ridiculous to Dutch a few weeks ago, but now, she just sipped her tequila and spun around.
“Please, stop that.”
The voice startled Dutch; she hadn’t realized Quinlan was awake.
“Hey, why’d you ask about the food?” She asked, not stopping, “when we first arrived, you asked how much food we had. Why do you care? It’s not like you’re gonna eat it.”
Quinlan didn’t answer.
“Oh yeah,” Dutch paused, taking a long sip of tequila, “you’re probably going to drain us, right?”
“You’re drunk.”
“But I’m right.” Dutch raised her hand to point, then collapsed on the floor next to Fet.
Quinlan watched her roll over and grab Fet’s arm, using it as a pillow. They looked close. Quinlan had no idea if a relationship had existed between them before, but there certainly were feelings between the two. He watched them for a moment, sleeping close together. It was something normal Strigoi did when nesting, and for a moment Quinlan wished he could join them. He shook the thought off quickly, and retreated to the farthest corner of the room, disgusted with himself.
Fet woke up on the floor next to Dutch. The last thing he remembered was watching the surveillance screens, but now he had somehow ended up here. Fet smiled for a moment, remembering times when it was much simpler, when it was just him and Dutch, when there was no Nikki, no Eph in the way. Fet missed waking up beside her. He sat up, the clock on the computer reading 7:02, so it is morning.
He rolled Dutch off of him and stood, checking on Setrakian, who was still asleep, and heading into the kitchen. Quinlan was asleep on the floor, leaning against the fridge door. Fet opened the fridge, slamming the door into Quinlan’s face, and grabbed a bottle of water. He shut the door and walked over to one of the cabinets, looking through the canned food for something that looked good. Behind him, Quinlan curled forward, pinching his nose.
Fet pulled out a box of cereal and poured some of the contents into three small bowls. He poured the water into separate cups and placed them at the table.
“Hey, Dutch.” He said, shaking her by the shoulder gently, “I made breakfast.”
“Oh, great, thanks.” Dutch mumbled as she sat up, rubbing her temples. She got up and sat down at the table as Fet woke Setrakian.
“Professor, I made breakfast.” Fet said, helping Setrakian sit up, and handing him the bowl and cup.
“Oh, thank you, but I’m not hungry.” Setrakian replied, trying to refuse.
“No, eat it. You need your strength.” Fet said, pushing the food into his hands and sitting down at the table with Dutch.
Quinlan got up off the floor and walked to the table, sinking into the chair opposite Fet. He looked tired, and hungry. Fet finished his food quickly, and took his plate to the small sink behind the counter, watching Quinlan cautiously.
“Mr. Fet, could you hand me the Lumen?” Setrakian asked.
Fet nodded, grabbing the book off the surveillance console, and handing it to Setrakian, who opened it and began to read.
Dutch cleared off the table, deciding to recount the canned food to pass the time. Fet returned to the surveillance screens, rolling his chair back to the desk and sitting so he could monitor the area around them while Setrakian read.
Quinlan remained seated, he hadn’t expected a simple blow to the face to have affected him, but his whole head ached. He’d checked the refrigerator door, but there was no silver used in it. He wondered why Fet had slammed the door into his face. They certainly weren’t friends, but Quinlan would have assumed that Fet would at least want him in fighting shape in case they encountered any Strigoi. He wasn’t sure if it was the door, or if he had suffered radiation damage too, but he certainly didn’t feel in fighting shape.
Quinlan was also hungry. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t help but hear Dutch’s pulse as she moved around in the kitchen, counting different cans. She was in reach of him. If he moved fast, Fet wouldn’t be able to stop him. Even before the explosion, it had been days since he’d last fed. And she was so close, and he was so hungry.
He bit down, keeping his mouth shut. Quinlan didn’t trust himself anymore. He couldn’t feed. Not on them.
Fet stiffened, and Quinlan could hear his pulse increase. “We’ve got company.”
“Where?” Quinlan asked.
“Five of them, east of here, they’re coming up on our tunnel.” Fet replied. He stood up from the monitors, reaching into his jacket for his gun.
“I’ll go.” Quinlan said quickly. He needed to get out of the room, even if it was only for a moment to kill a few Strigoi.
Fet nodded, but didn’t seem to realize that Quinlan meant he would go alone. Cautiously, the two stepped out of the control room, leaving Dutch at the monitors, and ventured into the tunnels. Fet led the way.
They rounded the corner, reaching the five Strigoi. Quinlan drew his guns and fired along with Fet. They took out a few, but several more Strigoi came out from one of the tunnels, forcing Quinlan to draw his sword. He cut through several Strigoi, although he struggled to keep up with them as he became more and more dizzy. Fet fired a few bullets then realized there were too many and resorted to a second option. He pulled out a silver grenade, yelled for Quinlan to get down, and threw it into the horde of oncoming Strigoi.
Quinlan turned, vaguely remembering hearing his name, then collapsed as a Strigoi charged him from behind.
Once the silver had cleared, Fet was able to shoot the surviving Strigoi. “Quinlan?” He called, looking around.
Fet noticed Quinlan’s sword sticking out from under a burnt Strigoi. He kicked the dead muncher off and nudged Quinlan with his boot. When this elicited no response, Fet rolled him over and shook Quinlan to try and wake him. This too, didn’t cause him to react. Worrying about a second wave of Strigoi coming, Fet picked up Quinlan’s sword and slid it back into its sheath, then pulled him upright and carried him back to the control room.
“What happened?” Dutch asked as she let them in, closing and locking the door behind them.
“I don’t know, I threw a silver grenade at the munchers, and he was unconscious under one of them. I don’t think he got burned or anything.” Fet replied, setting Quinlan down on the floor. He looked over at Setrakian, who was asleep on the couch, holding the Lumen.
“Maybe it’s the radiation?” Dutch offered.
“He did stare at the thing.” Fet replied.
Dutch and Fet sat down at the table, sharing a can of beans. “I didn’t think it would end this way. I thought our plan was foolproof.” Dutch sighed, “But somehow the Master was able to detonate the bomb and stop us again. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now, we have no plan, we’re stuck underground, and the two people who always know what we need to do next are unconscious, and probably dying!”
Fet was first slightly offended that he wasn’t on the list of people who could come up with a plan, but then his care for Dutch overcame it. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll find a way out of this, we always do. We’ll find medicine for Setrakian, and Quinlan will be okay, he’s like, impossible to kill. We’ll make it through this, I promise you.”
Dutch looked at Fet, wanting to believe him. He pulled her closer and Dutch hugged him.