Break Me One More Time [McLennon]

in which paul deserves a break

When Paul came to, he was breathing heavily. He tried hard to steady his breathing but he couldn't seem to do it. He was staring up at a tile ceiling, he could tell that much, but his vision was blurry through tears. He was in so much pain, body still aching terribly from the ordeal he'd just been through. He was hurting and tired and scared. He was laid out on a bed and he had no idea where he was (though it was, presumably, within the F.H.O. headquarters).

Paul drew in a deep, shaky breath, and stood bolt right up. Snap out of it, he scolded himself, eyes squeezed shut, and he drew up the image of John, peaceful and safe in bed, once more. Remember what you're fighting for, he told himself firmly, and nodded to himself, determined.

He forced himself to open his eyes, bracing himself for what he was going to find there when he did. To his great surprise, he was not surrounded by the court of the F.H.O., ready to sentence him to his death, nor was he surrounded by guards. President Wilson was not there to condemn him, nor was Carlos Vega, nor was anyone. There was not a soul but for Paul himself inside that room.

Paul took a moment to take in his surroundings. He was in something of a medical room. It looked to be a room that one might find in an urgent care facility. It was well stocked — there was a jar half full of cotton balls, and another full of tongue depressors; there was a sink and a row of cabinets and a set of drawers; there was the table-bed that Paul was laid out on — but not quite as equipt as a hospital would be.

Tentatively, Paul swung his legs over the edge of the table-bed, and he got to his feet. He crossed the room and yanked a drawer open, finding a set of syringes laid out on a cloth inside. He grabbed as many of them as he could hold, hoping he might be able to do enough damage if he could manage to stab someone with the needles and fight his way out of the headquarters facility. He knew that his chances were slim to none, but he had no plan that was better than this.

He burst out of the room and beyond the room also looked like an urgent care facility, if one that looked to be a little old. He frowned, puzzled, but continued on.

He could hear voices down the hall, and he made to move away from them, but one of them sounded like Barney. That wasn't quite enough to convince him to go toward the voices, but it was enough to make him pause and listen. And then he heard Tessa and, he was pretty sure, Darren, too.

Before he could convince himself that it was a bad idea, that it could be a trick, the syringes were slipping from his hands and clattering to the floor, and he was running down the hallway. He swung himself into the room where the voices were coming from and immediately came face to face with Carlos Vega, who was tied securely to a chair and had a piece of cloth in his mouth.

"Paulie!" Barney exclaimed, and he hadn't used that nickname in years. "You're awake! Oh, you had me really worried there for a second."

Vega struggled against his binds, trying to shout something at Paul, but it was unintelligible through the gag in his mouth.

"Sorry to have worried you," Paul said distractedly, unable to tear his gaze away from Vega. He looked around the room and noted that (in addition to Barney, Tessa, and Darren) Marbella, Stephanie, and Lola were also there. "Where are we?" he asked.

"The new Unknowables facility," Darren said. "The Shadows who still remain found our old one."

"They what?" Paul said, eyes wide. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yes," Marbella said. "Thankfully, I have some spies on the inside of those who would not follow me to the Unknowables. They alerted me that our base had been found and that an attack would be coming, so there were no casualties."