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Entry tags:
Julio, Kurt, Cal, Scott and Ben 17/9/2016
The aftermath of rescuing Julio from the anti-mutant group The Right.
Warning: before rescue came Julio attempted suicide and there is reference to that and the resulting injuries as well as his torture and mistreatment whilst being kept captive.
Julio winced as he opened his eyes, the lights were brighter than it had ever been in the cell or any of the cells before it. He closed them immediately before slowly trying again. There were two boys bandaging his wrist and checking his other injuries, which was surprise enough for him but one of them also happened to be blue. Or perhaps this was all a fevered dream as the blood loss kicked in. Maybe he was still in that cell bleeding out...
"Where are I? Who are you people?" His voice was weaker than he liked. Experimentally he tried out some English. "Free?"
"Can you clean and disinfect his other cuts?" Cal had just asked Kurt when the kid came to and spoke up. He was in the process of bandaging his slashed wrist, himself, after having seen to it - Simon would do a much better job of it back at the school, but this would be enough for now. "Free," he confirmed with a nod, then switched to Spanish. "You're free, and safe. We're taking you somewhere safe, where no one will force you to do anything. Please don't move while we tend to your injuries."
Kurt gave the boy’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, then turned his attention to the other wounds as Cal had asked. He was quiet as he worked. His Spanish was only passable and he worried that his accent would only make his English harder to understand for the boy. He was so...angry. What kind of people would do this to someone? To a child no less? He’d never understand it.
Scott glanced back from where he sat in the captain's seat, getting ready to take them away from the scene of crime. He didn't mean that facetiously, either. Where that boy had been held was the scene of several crimes. "I need everyone secured before we can take off," he called back to the team. He trusted the others to let him know once the kid was strapped in and was stable enough for them to take off.
Lacking the linguistic skills to understand Julio and the medical knowledge to assist his teammates, Benjamin lingered a short distance from the others, nearer to the jet's sealed door on the off chance that something else might yet be coming. Now that the bullets had stopped flying and the kidnappers had been subdued (with an excess of force that he was not at all sorry for), his part of the mission was over and it was all he could do. He clenched his jaw hard; he was ready to have this ugly, too-familiar mess over and to get the young man safely to the institute.
At Scott's words, he turned and observed the others again. Julio was in bad shape, malnourished and beaten and bloodied, but Cal was working with quick precision and it wouldn't be long before it was safe to move him. He remained on guard, but sheathed his blades, ready to take his place as soon as the others did.
Julio was helped to stand, he didn't really need English to understand that this was take off. Flying away from his nightmare and never returning.
He struggled with the fastener on the seat belt though. The hand of the slashed wrist felt heavy and sluggish and the other hand was still wet with blood with a few dodgy, badly set fingers from all the torture.
Looking to the blonde medic he asked "What sort of people are you? Teenagers who can own a plane?
"Call it a loan," Cal replied, reaching over to buckle the guy in. "And take it easy until you see a real doctor?" He took his seat beside him. "Good for take off here."
Kurt took a seat on the other side of the injured boy. His arm moved a little stiffly as he buckled himself in. He must have twisted it during the fight... One of the Right had gotten a good grip on his arm before he’d teleported at one point. “Here too.”
Scott finished the sequence, and then began to take them out. Time to get the fuck out of here.
Once the jet was airborne and the threat was many miles behind and below them, Benjamin's mismatched eyes moved to the three young men seated in the row in front of him. His gaze lingered on Julio, the blood-smeared hand and bandage-swathed wrist he could see dangling at the boy's side, before retreating to the floor. The mission had been a victory...but it did not feel like one.
Julio couldn't help noticing being watched, he was still hyper alert to such things and understandably so. The blonde haired boy with the unusual face tattoo, Julio remembered being vaguely conscious and seeing him fighting with some of the Right. His skill had been impressive.
"Where are we going?" He asked more generally, though so long as it was nothing like where he'd come from he wasn't sure he cared too much. He was in pain and exhausted beyond belief and yet he was happier than he'd been in so long. Happy and curious, though he hardly had the energy for either. "Who are you all? I did not know there were others like me..."
"There's quite a few like us," Cal assured him, after glancing at Kurt at his words. "We're taking you to a school for kids like us. Mutants. It's safe there. You can heal, and rest."
He switched back to English, but kept his tone warm and comforting, despite how sick to his stomach he felt about the kid having been taken for so long. He didn't know how much English he could understand, so he said nothing he would mind him hearing. "I don't think he knows about mutants. They must've had him a while."
"I'm Cal, by the way," he said as he turned back. "This is Kurt..."
Kurt greeted the boy with a lift of his hand and a friendly smile. “Hello.”
Benjamin's gaze lifted again as he heard familiar words -- names -- within the unfamiliar language. He understood. "I am Benjamin," he offered as the dark eyes proceeded to look back at him, then lifted his hand to gesture to the front of the jet, "That is Scott."
Julio carefully repeated the names, he was doing his best to stay conscious. He didn't want to die anymore, not now he'd been saved. He struggled the most on Ben's name, with the 'j' sound not being overly familiar to him it sounded closer to 'Ben-ha-meen' instead.
In equally careful but imperfectly pronouced English he said to them all "Much thanks to you."
"It's what we do," Cal told him with a don't-worry-about-it kinda smile.
Scott leveled them out. "Yeah, thanks aren't required."
Kurt echoed Cal’s smile. “Just rest, mein Freund. We will be at the school soon.”
And Julio couldn't deny that his eyes were heavy and, as much as he wasn't exactly trusting if anyone anymore, exhaustion was difficult to fight the urge. He could at least trust these people to not allow him to die in his sleep, he decide as he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness again.
Warning: before rescue came Julio attempted suicide and there is reference to that and the resulting injuries as well as his torture and mistreatment whilst being kept captive.
Julio winced as he opened his eyes, the lights were brighter than it had ever been in the cell or any of the cells before it. He closed them immediately before slowly trying again. There were two boys bandaging his wrist and checking his other injuries, which was surprise enough for him but one of them also happened to be blue. Or perhaps this was all a fevered dream as the blood loss kicked in. Maybe he was still in that cell bleeding out...
"Where are I? Who are you people?" His voice was weaker than he liked. Experimentally he tried out some English. "Free?"
"Can you clean and disinfect his other cuts?" Cal had just asked Kurt when the kid came to and spoke up. He was in the process of bandaging his slashed wrist, himself, after having seen to it - Simon would do a much better job of it back at the school, but this would be enough for now. "Free," he confirmed with a nod, then switched to Spanish. "You're free, and safe. We're taking you somewhere safe, where no one will force you to do anything. Please don't move while we tend to your injuries."
Kurt gave the boy’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, then turned his attention to the other wounds as Cal had asked. He was quiet as he worked. His Spanish was only passable and he worried that his accent would only make his English harder to understand for the boy. He was so...angry. What kind of people would do this to someone? To a child no less? He’d never understand it.
Scott glanced back from where he sat in the captain's seat, getting ready to take them away from the scene of crime. He didn't mean that facetiously, either. Where that boy had been held was the scene of several crimes. "I need everyone secured before we can take off," he called back to the team. He trusted the others to let him know once the kid was strapped in and was stable enough for them to take off.
Lacking the linguistic skills to understand Julio and the medical knowledge to assist his teammates, Benjamin lingered a short distance from the others, nearer to the jet's sealed door on the off chance that something else might yet be coming. Now that the bullets had stopped flying and the kidnappers had been subdued (with an excess of force that he was not at all sorry for), his part of the mission was over and it was all he could do. He clenched his jaw hard; he was ready to have this ugly, too-familiar mess over and to get the young man safely to the institute.
At Scott's words, he turned and observed the others again. Julio was in bad shape, malnourished and beaten and bloodied, but Cal was working with quick precision and it wouldn't be long before it was safe to move him. He remained on guard, but sheathed his blades, ready to take his place as soon as the others did.
Julio was helped to stand, he didn't really need English to understand that this was take off. Flying away from his nightmare and never returning.
He struggled with the fastener on the seat belt though. The hand of the slashed wrist felt heavy and sluggish and the other hand was still wet with blood with a few dodgy, badly set fingers from all the torture.
Looking to the blonde medic he asked "What sort of people are you? Teenagers who can own a plane?
"Call it a loan," Cal replied, reaching over to buckle the guy in. "And take it easy until you see a real doctor?" He took his seat beside him. "Good for take off here."
Kurt took a seat on the other side of the injured boy. His arm moved a little stiffly as he buckled himself in. He must have twisted it during the fight... One of the Right had gotten a good grip on his arm before he’d teleported at one point. “Here too.”
Scott finished the sequence, and then began to take them out. Time to get the fuck out of here.
Once the jet was airborne and the threat was many miles behind and below them, Benjamin's mismatched eyes moved to the three young men seated in the row in front of him. His gaze lingered on Julio, the blood-smeared hand and bandage-swathed wrist he could see dangling at the boy's side, before retreating to the floor. The mission had been a victory...but it did not feel like one.
Julio couldn't help noticing being watched, he was still hyper alert to such things and understandably so. The blonde haired boy with the unusual face tattoo, Julio remembered being vaguely conscious and seeing him fighting with some of the Right. His skill had been impressive.
"Where are we going?" He asked more generally, though so long as it was nothing like where he'd come from he wasn't sure he cared too much. He was in pain and exhausted beyond belief and yet he was happier than he'd been in so long. Happy and curious, though he hardly had the energy for either. "Who are you all? I did not know there were others like me..."
"There's quite a few like us," Cal assured him, after glancing at Kurt at his words. "We're taking you to a school for kids like us. Mutants. It's safe there. You can heal, and rest."
He switched back to English, but kept his tone warm and comforting, despite how sick to his stomach he felt about the kid having been taken for so long. He didn't know how much English he could understand, so he said nothing he would mind him hearing. "I don't think he knows about mutants. They must've had him a while."
"I'm Cal, by the way," he said as he turned back. "This is Kurt..."
Kurt greeted the boy with a lift of his hand and a friendly smile. “Hello.”
Benjamin's gaze lifted again as he heard familiar words -- names -- within the unfamiliar language. He understood. "I am Benjamin," he offered as the dark eyes proceeded to look back at him, then lifted his hand to gesture to the front of the jet, "That is Scott."
Julio carefully repeated the names, he was doing his best to stay conscious. He didn't want to die anymore, not now he'd been saved. He struggled the most on Ben's name, with the 'j' sound not being overly familiar to him it sounded closer to 'Ben-ha-meen' instead.
In equally careful but imperfectly pronouced English he said to them all "Much thanks to you."
"It's what we do," Cal told him with a don't-worry-about-it kinda smile.
Scott leveled them out. "Yeah, thanks aren't required."
Kurt echoed Cal’s smile. “Just rest, mein Freund. We will be at the school soon.”
And Julio couldn't deny that his eyes were heavy and, as much as he wasn't exactly trusting if anyone anymore, exhaustion was difficult to fight the urge. He could at least trust these people to not allow him to die in his sleep, he decide as he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness again.