Bound

Part Five

It's warm and there's sand under his body. A salty breeze teases his nose. He feels at peace as he always does at the beach, with water and earth being his dominant elements, but something isn't quite right. When he goes to open his eyes, they feel welded shut. When he reaches for Mitch, his arms don't respond. When he wants to call out for Wyatt, his throat doesn't make the proper vibration for sound. He's paralyzed, utterly cut off from everything but the rush of waves and the sensation of billions of grains of sand under his weight.

But no, there is more. There is that breeze, and that warm sun. Air and fire. Mitch.

"Where are you?" he asks in his mind, reaching out psychically for the boy he loves beyond all measure. He feels a sigh of relief coming from somewhere and realizes Mitch has been trying to reach him for a long time.

"I'm here, but honey, you need to wake up. Now. Shit is very real, and I can't do this alone."
Scott can't help but panic a little at this. He's not sure where to locate all of his limbs, how to reanimate them. He can't even open his eyes. But then he remembers how nothing is impossible when they are together, and though he can't see or touch Mitch now, he can feel how close he is. Wyatt too...he's not far. This knowledge gives Scott the strength to dig deep and claw his way up into consciousness.

"That's it, honey," Mitch chants encouragingly and Scott keeps climbing. The warm peace of the beach is fading out like a badly tuned radio in the background. What comes into focus is much less pleasant. His eyes flicker open and he finds himself in the last place he expected--the wreckage of the planetarium.

Wheel barrows and plastic sheeting and caution tape litter the site, but there's no mistaking that domed roof. Scott looks around and sees that Wyatt has been caged near the center of the room. Todrick's Rottweiler puppy is pacing around the cage, seething and snapping. Mitch on the other hand is laying on the raised dais where Todrick and Jesse had said their vows a few days ago. He is strapped to a table, feigning unconsciousness in a very convincing way, and there is blood in his hair.

Scott doesn't think, he just rushes forward. He gets nowhere. He's been chained to a chair, and when he tries to draw up the magic to snap those chains, only a cold, dull feeling prickles in his fingertips rather than the usual warm glow. Confused, he looks around and sees an IV pole with a bag of purplish liquid. A tube extends down from the bag and into his arm via a big needle, and Scott wants to scream. It's the Darkness Draught. His connection to the elements is dulled and cracked.

He looks back and meets Mitch's bleak expression. This is bad, real bad. The sound of approaching footsteps makes it even worse. Scott turns his neck as far as it will go and sees Todrick wheeling another IV pole toward Mitch.

"Don't touch him!" Scott yells and Todrick jumps a little. His eyes are huge and horrified for a moment, not having expected Scott to be conscious perhaps. But soon enough, his face brightens and he begins to laugh.

"That, my old friend, is fucking impressive. You should have been knocked out for hours. I shot you up with the Draught at your house and now that you're here, I've set up a more continual dose. It took me days to wake up when it happened to me. But I suppose you being awake isn't the worst thing. Now I can give you options."

Scott doesn't like the sound of this, but knows the longer he can stall for time the better. "Options about what?"

"I've done the math. A familiar created from the bond of two Mages is always going to have a magical advantage. And honestly a Bound Mage pair in itself is too much power to leave alone." Todrick swipes an alcohol swab over the crook of Mitch's elbow and holds him down while he jabs him with the IV needle. Scott winces at Mitch's apology that floats around in the back of his head.