Rescue Mission

skiddingagent:

Normally Dee-Ell would have beamed and wiggled his fingers but instead he simply held out both of his hands. “I need the exact co-ordinates or I might end up in a wall and we all die.” He said bluntly. 

“Just…Grab me and then onto each other.” He didn’t want to admit that he was more than a little nervous. 

d-cyphered

Doug tried not to flinch when Sally went for her gun – it wasn’t as if anyone watched him as carefully as he watched them, after all – but he couldn’t help a hard swallow. They were off to storm an enemy compound and get his son back, of course they needed weapons. (But she was—shields and protection and pearls skittering over a floor, not–) Not every problem could be mastered by using one’s brain as a weapon, he more than knew that, he–

Oh, he thought distantly, heightened propensity due to– extenuating circumstances– elevated stress–

He could barely make himself reach out for Dee, hands clutched trembling inside the pockets of his jacket. Breathing exercises never did much for him, but the second he sucked in a breath, a familiar lightness filled his veins. A soft touch at his wrist, then tendrils curled more firmly – Warlock slinking in close, then hesitantly tucking his chin against Doug’s shoulder. It didn’t fix anything, not in the long run. But he could breathe, and when he took Dee’s hand he held it firm.

Almost guilty, Warlock pulled his rogue roots back from the floor beneath him, letting the little sprouts hastily try to patch the holes back together as they went. He had his information (and more), Doug had his own, and soon enough his local drones had reported back the exact coordinates that Dee-Ell would need.

It would take a lot out of Dee-Ell to teleport so many so far, and Warlock wanted to offer to do it instead, but...if it tired his grandson out, maybe he’d agree to stay somewhere safe for the rest of the mission. Warlock knew how important it was for him to help, but if anything happened to him... Even Doug was acting strange about it -- stranger than before -- and acting like he needed Dee-Ell, like they were a team and not......

....his heart rate was up. A lot.

Warlock had his fingers wrapped warmly around Doug’s wrist before he even realized he’d crossed the room. As Doug relaxed back against him, Warlock took the whole weight of that fear and worry on his shoulders, then raised his eyes to look at the others. He reached out to grab hold of each other them as if he’d planned it all along, roping them together so Dee-Ell would have no fear of dropping them, then gave his grandson the coordinates he’d need.

( fireinmyfists )

Rescue Mission

d-cyphered:

Warlock didn’t argue, didn’t plead. His heart hurt and his head was lonely. As he watched the scene, he let roots grow from the soles of his feet and wind their way into the mechanics beneath the floor. Whether Skids gave them permission or not, Warlock would get the information they needed.

[ skiddingagent ]

Protecting the Hive

esperanzaling:

Douglock hugged Dee-Ell back, distantly wondering at how much older he’d grown in another few short months. The room buzzed with such fear and worry and anger, but through it all -- through the very heart of him -- a bright, blazing hope had sparked.

He’d lost his heart. Years and years ago he’d given it away to save his team, let the enemy cut the hivemind components out of his chest and accepted the silence that settled within him. Disconnected. Alone. His friends never let him feel that way, Moira never let him feel that way, but the parts inside him never fit right again. He knew Warlock felt it too, ran from it even, desperate for companionship and connection.

And the whole time it had been waiting in this one little monkey. The moment Chi-Chee held out a hand, Douglock snatched it up in his, both of their circuits sparking with white light. Chi-Chee was Phalanx, but warm. Welcomed. Loved. The kind of Phalanx Douglock had never believed could exist. He hurled himself across their linked systems and spread himself thin around the monkey’s techno-heart, dropped every barrier, begged entry to their hive.

After a few short moments, Warlock jerked his hand back and raised his head to the others. “...Self is ready. Shall we go?”

dontcallmejulio: