Defining Factors

Chapter 19: Mindful

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So! It's been a while, hasn't it? How's that cliffhanger treating y'all? I'd suggest a quick recap with how long it's been.

Anyway, welcome back!

And without further adieu!

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Warnings: Bodies, blood, swearing, death, major character death.

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When the group walked into the cell block, what they expected was a battle. What they got was the remains of one. Fresh. Not even old enough to smell rotten, just bloody. Lafayette and Thomas stood, halted by the sight as the rest of the group filed in after them.

Every single prisoner lie lifeless.

"This-" Kinloch started, he had to cover his mouth as bile rose in his throat. Laurens forgot that Francis had yet to see a fresh corpse. The sights and horrors of their job. He didn't blame Francis at all when he lost the contents of his stomach.

To be honest, no else blamed him either.

"They're all dead," Seabury whispered. "Why would someone come to slaughter all the prisoners?"

Burr strode further into the room. "Search for any survivors," he said. "Andre,"

"Still here," Andre responded on the comms.

"Do you have any video surveillance for what happened in the cell block?"

A moment pause and Andre brought it up on the computer. "The video was tampered," he said solumly. "I have nothing. Tallmadge and I are blind to that area. What's happened?"

"They're all dead," Burr answered.

"Who?" Tallmadge asked.

"The prisoners. Every single one."

Francis jolted like he'd been electrified by Thomas. "James!" he yelled, looking around frantically.

"What happened!?" Jefferson demanded, clasping his shoulders as Francis clutched his head. "Did something happen to James?"

"He's- he's calling for help," Francis said. "Someone's got him."

"Who?! Where?!" Thomas demanded.

"I don't know! I just know he's in trouble!" Francis said, wrenching from Thomas' grasp. He stumbled a bit, clutching his head as he regained balance. "This way!" And took off at a full sprint further into the cell block.

"Francis! Wait!" Burr yelled. "Don't rush off!"

Jefferson was right on his heels. John wasn't leaving Francis to run to his death alone, so he followed, along with Alex. Lafayette swore and ran too.

"What a bunch of idiots," Lee drawled.

"Tell me about it," Burr muttered, having no choice at this point but to run after them as well. Lee and Seabury both shared a look, suddenly wishing they'd allowed Hamilton to decline their help. Then begrudgingly set off after the rest of the group.

The hallways of the prison section were white. White with a colored stripe and a number to tell you where you were. Most of it was empty and unfilled as if the builder of the compound expected to be more prisoners than there were. Only two of the six blocks were filled. And out of those two, everyone contained within were slaughtered.

Kinloch tried not to focus on the distorted bodies and only on the door at the end of cell block 1. It wasn't far but his mind was racing fast enough to make it seem like three times the distance it was.

Get your filthy hands off me!

Kinloch shoved through the door and into cell block two, his team on his heels.

There, at the other end of the hall, was James.

Clothes torn. Blood smeared across his face. Struggling against the hands of those who were intent to put his body with the rest decorating the floor. "James!" The thought was his but the voice was Thomas'.

Kinloch could only watch with wide eyes and an outstretched arm, feet pounding against the floor as a gleaming blade slipped between James' ribs and sank into his heart with a sickening sound. Somehow, it was more audible than the screaming echoing through the room. The next instant, lightening arced through the air and the whole room exploded into light.

***

Kinloch jolted awake, his body sweaty and his heart a shadow echo of the thunder that would've deafened anyone in that room, on repeat.

He sat up, holding his face in his hands and trying to control his breathing. It was so real. Too real. He can still hear the sound. That awful sound, echoing in his mind. The way James' eyes went wide and his mind blank, not with death, but the pure overwhelming, uncomprehendable circumstance that had befallen him.

Warm arms encircled Kinloch, gently tugging him in the lap of a warm body. Loose curls gently tickling his skin and rough hands soothing along his bare back. Kinloch shuddered, tension releasing as he sank further into those arms.

After a time of supportive silence and when Kinloch finally seemed calm enough, a near whisper of John's southern accent filled the quiet. "Tell me what's wrong."

Kinloch took another deep breath. "A nightmare."

"What happened?"

"An invasion, on the compound," Kinloch murmured. John patiently waited for more. "James came back in the middle of it. Got caught."

"Everything is okay, I promise. The compound is safe. James is off somewhere. Probably enjoying himself in Ancient Egypt. Besides, if someone caught him, he'd just teleport away."

Kinloch shook his head. "You know the massive system that runs through the cells to suppress powers? He...he had a collar on. I think it was an improved, smaller version of it. He couldn't teleport."

John nodded understandingly. "That tech doesn't exist. It's alright. Listen," he said gently, cocking his head slightly so Kinloch would follow suit and listen to the night around them. "Nothing. No alarms. No screams. Nothing. Peaceful. Everything is alright."

The entire invasion had been a dream. A long ass, terrifying as fuck, dream. And Kinloch couldn't express how much he loved John in that moment, for being there for him.

***

Andre was leaning against a wall in a darkened hallway, just outside of Kinloch's room. It was interesting, the way people's minds worked. The patterns they follow. Learn that pattern and one can predict the actions that person will take. Kinloch was an easy pattern. He didn't like his friends getting hurt. He didn't like to believe his friends would abandon him. He put too much hope into them, too much trust. And his unyielding opinion that James was, in fact, a good person that'll always be there for him, was an interesting one. Considering that it's John holding him now in the after effects of a nightmare.

Sometimes it's just too simple.

Andre pushed off the wall. Dinner, earlier, he had visited their table. But instead of everyone going to defend the compound, they all laughed and dined together. Hamilton had been oddly quiet, pushing his food around with a fork, contemplating. Thomas sat as far away from him as possible. Eliza and Burr were, once again, forced to sit next to each other even though that's the last place either of them wanted to be. Laurens ended following Kinloch back to Kinloch's bedroom for a night to themselves.

Andre's footsteps were quiet as he walked back to his own room. What could tomorrow possibly bring?

Another phase perhaps.

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