tolaywaste | 9. » voice, filtered to INMATES only

[Ben does have his back, following behind and matching Alex's movement so closely, so instinctively that they might have been tied together with a metal pipe: he goes when Alex goes, stops when Alex stops, and watches his friend for instructions. Which is when it will probably become apparent that no, Ben isn't giving further direction.

It's Alex's show.

The X5 can hear the creatures closing; he even knows how many there are. He knows they should go left when Alex takes them right, but he doesn't say anything, he just covers their six and follows.

There's no exit other than the one they came through, not that isn't blocked by a heap of collapsed cement and metal rods; the second story is enclosed, and the helicopters pass by overhead, the thump and whoosh of their rotor blades echoing in the brittle stairwell, drawing the attention of the creatures upward.

Ben stops halfway through level three, searching for the top half of the collapse on the ground level, agreeing that investigating to see if they can climb down is a viable plan. Unfortunately, the creatures are going to catch up to them, first. He doesn't say anything to Alex. He just reaches forward and lays two fingertips on his shoulder, and stops himself; twisting, he puts their backs to one another, and drops into a subtle, ready defensive stance, eyes scanning out away from them.]

Ready? [Somewhere deep in his gut there's a sharp thrum of anticipation, equal parts inherent anxiety and learned eagerness, but he's steady as his voice to all external appearances.]

[It's disconcerting at first, but it's also a very effective technique. There's no way to get out of leading now, not given that they're in immediate danger, that Ben, it seems, is depending on him and not the other way around.]

[It's sneaky. But he has to hand it to Ben. It's working.]

[He gets more confident the farther they go, getting used to this - guerrilla movements, rather than confrontation. He stops when Ben signals, noting what he's noted: that they can't run anymore. That they have to fight.]

[The only answer is a nod. Yes, he's ready. And strangely, he's not afraid. They can handle what's coming.]

[They're humanoid, anyway, the creatures filtering down at once from the fourth level and up from the second; some of them are armed, pieces of twisted metal pulled from wreckage as well as standard weapons taken from the dead hands of failed survivors. They aren't mindless, nor particularly clumsy, but there are a lot of them. Probably more than they can handle, if Ben is honest.

The point isn't to fight them all, though, so that doesn't matter as much as it otherwise might. The X5 turns slightly towards the group moving up - there are a dozen of them, but if they can open up enough of a path through the middle of them, Ben and Alex can retreat back the way they came. The helicopter is silent for the time being, or at least drowned out by the echoing of their immediate surroundings.

However.]

What would you like to do?

[They're not alive, not really. Alex has to remind himself of this fact. It'll still make him queasy, but they're not really alive.]

[Later, he'll wonder: how long before that justification becomes looser, less specific, more dangerous.]

Blast. You pick off stragglers, we make a path, we get out of here.

On your signal.

[Ben isn't concerned about that, he doesn't worry about justification. They want to harm him, that much is clear, they want to harm Alex; that's all the justification he needs. And maybe that's why he's an inmate and Alex is a warden, but the truth of the matter is that Ben won't let his friend slide too far one way or the other, not like he's afraid of. These things aren't really alive, and they are a threat. There's no reason to hesitate.

Ben shifts another step to the side, to clear Alex's line of fire. He's already watching the edges, watching from the corner of his eye as the opposing group closes, too; he's watching Alex with everything but his eyes, listening and breathing and feeling and ready to move.]

[It's automatic, his step forward. Alex's movements are smooth, now; he's fit into the role, he's comfortable in it because he needs to be. Because Ben is depending on him. And because, whether he wants to admit it or not, this is something he can do. He just has to stop thinking about it sometimes.]

[The new suit is smooth, well-designed, nearly perfect. The whir precedes the blast by only a tiny fraction of a second, and it's quiet enough that it won't alert anyone with ordinary senses. Ben will hear; Alex will be focused on the heat of his skin, the need to aim perfectly. His existence narrows to this one thing.]

[Breathe. Aim. Go.]

[He lifts a hand to waist height, palm flat to the ground, gestures back slightly at Ben, and blasts. The sound is devastating, but Alex doesn't let it throw him - as soon as recoil's passed, as soon as the smoke is clear, he goes, trusting to Ben to follow him.]

[The noise is quiet, and quick, but Ben would've caught it even if he weren't paying specific, close attention now. This is the other piece of data he needs, this is the other ability he needs to witness, to know about, even if he can't help Alex with this part of it; he needs to know the ins and outs so he can help his friend hone his tactics based around it. So, later, he can help in other ways, maybe.

It's like how hard and fast Alex can punch: this is an ability, and Ben will do what he can to help him use it most effectively.

It's in that fraction of a second that Ben realizes his mistake, though. He steps back again, almost instinctive, at the subtle gesture but it wouldn't be enough. Later, Ben won't know why he didn't expect this. He should have. The sound is loud and would be to even someone with normal, dull human hearing. To Ben, it's deafening, and he lets out a surprised shout and falls back another few steps involuntarily.

His ears are ringing, they hurt, but he's a soldier. He's trained better than this. It's his turn and Alex is starting forward, and Ben flanks him without hesitation, striding forward to catch up and pace him, hold up his end of the plan.

Three of them are down and out, done and over; two more are struggling back to their feet, batting out flames and gibbering either to each other or just in general, panicked and angry. The first one to come at them with anything like cohesive intent comes overhand, and Ben barely has to think, which is fortunate: he steps into the overpowered swing, catches the creature's wrist, and twists sharply into the turn he executes quickly, neatly, and immediately. The end result is the length of pipe that had been in the creature's hand is in Ben's, now, as he completes the spin and then half-turns back, raising the new weapon to just about chest level. The downward strike is swift, decisive, and Ben has dismissed the jerking form from his consideration before the pipe has even hit the ground when he drops it.

All in all, he barely breaks stride.]

[Nothing rattles him, not really. He sees that Ben's hurting, and it hurts him to see that, but he's able to put it away just for a minute, just long enough to get them out of here.]

[It surprises and doesn't surprise him simultaneously, the way Ben falls into perfect, lethal form. He doesn't let that stop him, either, lets it pass in the periphery of his vision, and leads.]

[The rest of the creatures are behind them now. He glances at Ben - got it, or should I?]

[It's trickier than he's willing or, really at this point, able to show, to keep his course steady and straight; Ben shakes his head, once, to try and clear it of the threatening imbalance, but he's able to function. The glance is subtle and silent but Ben catches it seamlessly, shakes his head back.

He falls back slightly, taking up his previous position unerringly following his friend's lead.]

[They're able to make their way out of danger fairly seamlessly. Alex is surprised - he expected to have more trouble, to be less prepared. He certainly didn't think he'd just fall into step like this is something he could do, if not in his sleep, then without constantly worrying he's about to mess something up.]

[It's surprising, a little disturbing, but also feels good.]

[Once they're clear of danger and approaching the entrance to the CES again, he finally judges that it's safe enough that he can worry about Ben again - and suddenly he's a different person, turning on his heel and frowning deeply at his friend.]

Are you okay? Did I hurt your ears?

[For a moment, the changeover is somewhat alarming to Ben, who takes longer to come out of the place in his head Manticore forced him to carve there; his eyes click over, heavy and sharp as a knife blade, when Alex turns and draws the X5 up short behind him. It's only a moment, but it's a long moment, and then Ben blinks and something in his shoulders relaxes.

There's no sense lying about it; he reaches up to touch one, carefully but not gingerly, to make sure there's no blood. Glancing to clear the area one more time, he switches modes again from nonverbal to verbal and does not shake his head.]

I'm fine. I should have anticipated that the process with which your power displaces energy and creates force would have some manner of percussive side effect, and the acoustics of our surroundings amplified and focused that particular aspect. It's physics, Alex, not anything you did.

What you did, in fact, was very good.

[None of which is the same as I'm okay - Alex is fairly sure that Ben would tell him if he was seriously injured, but at the same time, Ben's threshold for pain is way higher than most people's, and so Alex isn't sure that fine means the same thing for both of them.]

[Which is why it doesn't sink in right away, that very good. He scrutinizes Ben carefully as he speaks, checking him for signs of pain, and then - he really hears what Ben's just said.]

I - did?

[He's thrown entirely for a moment, eyes wide and confused and disbelieving. He's not a leader. He's not. He knows that. Despite what Ben's tried to show him, he just isn't.]

[But. Ben doesn't ever say things just to make someone else feel better.]

[Slowly, he nods.]

What could I have done better?

[Ben does say things just to make others feel better - indeed, at times it's all he can do - but not about this. This is survival, and quite frankly, Alex surprised him a little bit. There's still work to be done, but there's a solid base there to start on, there's the spark he's always known was there to fan into a proper fire.

Ben, who looks at Alex and sees his friend, has always known it was there; Ben, who looks at Alex and sees another soldier in a fight for survival, has taken some convincing.

And if he hadn't been before, the question Alex follows up with would cement the deal.]

Tactics. Better awareness of your own strengths and the strengths of those in your group. Just because you do not have my senses doesn't mean you cannot utilize the data I collect with them to better inform the decisions you make. The same for weaknesses - I didn't know your power made a noise, but you did. Neither of us realized I might have been incapacitated.

[There are plenty of things Alex still isn't good at. What he is good at by now, though, is taking criticism. It doesn't hurt the way it used to, because he knows he's at least mostly under control; any discomfort he might've had taking it was worn away while Bruce was on board.]

[So he listens, he commits what Ben's saying to memory, and he realizes - yeah. These are things he not only should get better at, but can get better at. He's never going to be the best, but he can do well enough that people don't get hurt in the crossfire, like Ben has.]

[He nods firmly, lips tight.]

Using the information I have - we both have - to do better. I can do that.

[Ben doesn't seem terribly concerned about any damage he's sustained; he touches his fingertips to his ear, his neck, one more time just to be sure, but he's okay. His ears will ring for a few hours, his equilibrium will be faulty, but it will go away. He shrugs it off, figuratively anyway, hand dropping back down to his side at loose attention.

All of his attention is on Alex.]

I know you can. You should also consider some manner of ongoing training in hand to hand combat, to allow for the event that your powers are not available to you for some reason, or not operating as you would expect them to, as occasionally happens in this place.

[He hesitates for a moment, because this is a line he wasn't sure he wanted to cross going in. Observing, commenting, analyzing, these are all things Ben is perfectly willing to do because he can do them at a distance. But actual combat training? That's in another category.

But it's love. He can allow for it.]

I am capable of imparting some of this training, in this case.

If you find this acceptable.

That would be -

[Perfect. Amazing. The only acceptable thing, since Ben knows what he's doing and it's obvious they work well together.]

[He struggles to keep from grinning. He knows this is serious, but it's also really good. It gives him hope.]

- fine, as long as we trade off. Training for baseball.

What do you think?

[Ben waits, his trepidation masked, while Alex searches for the right word. He needn't have worried. Somehow he knew that, but he has to learn it over and over again, and maybe someday it will stick.

The soldier in Ben is still too close to the surface for the sense of humor he's learning to give in to to show, but he rubs the outside of his thumb along the outside of his thigh in an aborted fidget of consideration, as if he has to think about it.

Then:] I think I would like that very much.

Good. Awesome. Me, too.

[There's a moment when Alex considers not saying what he wants to say, but - he kind of has to. It's important.]

There's not really anybody I'd trust as much as you to train me, anyway.

[That does give Ben some pause, not the least because he's not even the best suited for it. Tinga, he thinks briefly, was always the best teacher for the physical training; not the best at mastering it, but at explaining and passing along the information.

But Tinga isn't here, and Alex needs someone to help him, or Ben doesn't know what will happen. He doesn't argue.

Instead:]

I think I would also like lunch.

[Alex wouldn't have allowed that argument anyway. Ben is the best person to train him. He doesn't know Tinga and doesn't trust her. It's not about who's most skilled - it's about the fact that he trusts Ben, who is his friend.]

[He grins mischievously, raising his eyebrows.]

You think?

[But he starts heading across the deck towards the stairs despite the joke.]

[Someday, Ben will tell Alex about Tinga, because she is dead and Rhade told him that the dead should be remembered. That their sacrifice, if that is why they died - and it was, in Tinga's case, in Eva's, in Jack's - should be shared so it would never be in vain. But not right now.

Right now, his expression doesn't exactly change when Alex grins at him like that, nor does he make the soft sniffing sound that would be appropriate here, but he follows Alex in a very arch manner.]

I know.

You know.

[He smirks, glancing over his shoulder.]

Well, in that case. Let's go get lunch, Ben.

9. » voice, filtered to INMATES only

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[ Spam ] feel free to timeskip wherever, or not, or whatever - I'm easy

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