From the Ashes

17

Hours later, Tony hears Jensen wake with a start. He gasps and rustling echoes throughout the cell blocks.

"Jensen, what's wrong?" Tony questions him from his spot on the ground. He sits with his back against the wall, having woken up just minutes before.

"My dad," he says, his voice laced with confusion and urgency.

His father? "What?" His eyebrows draw together.

"What's going on?" Daisy chimes in from her respective cell.

Jensen draws into a sharp breath before responding. "My dad is here, in this building."

"Huh?" Daisy says. "Your Dad? Isn't he retired military? Why would he be here?"

Tony looks up at the ceiling. "How do you know? Did you have a dream?"

"Yeah," Jensen affirms. "Someone has hired him to work here. They want him to help develop a better system for keeping captives contained—us, by the way."

"Do they know you're related? Does he know that you're here?" Alec is the next to speak up, his voice rushed in anticipation.

"No. There's no way," his voice falters at the end.

Tony can hear the uncertainty in his voice and it pains him. He knows that they're all thinking the same thing—Could Jensen's dad have known all along? He had a brief conversation with the black-haired boy a while ago about his father, and it was short because he didn't have much to say about his father. All Tony knows about him is that Jensen doesn't have a good relationship with him.

"Maybe if he ends up coming in here, he can help us escape," Daisy, the voice of optimism says.

I hope so. Tony sighs. He doubts it the moment he thinks it, however. Bad luck has followed them the day that the teenager's paths crossed.

The cells are silent for a few minutes as they all think about their situation and what to make of it.

"I saw my uncle too," Jensen speaks after a while. "I'm not entirely sure why though. I saw him at his desk at his job making a phone call. He was talking to somebody about something to do with his job. He works for the government."

"He has to be important somehow," Alec says firmly. "Lynx's dreams are always important..."

Tony runs his hand through his chocolate curls. "Is there any possibility that your Uncle could be one of the bad guys?" he asks him with clear uncertainty in his voice, knowing that his question is probably inaccurate—but at this point, any avenue should be explored.

"No," Jensen responds, not missing a beat. "He's been there for me more than my father. He's basically my father figure," Jensen tells them, waving the idea away with a quickness.

"Maybe your uncle is supposed to help us," Daisy offers him.

"Yeah, that could make sense," Jensen ponders the idea. "I guess we'll just have to sit here and wait then," he says with a sigh.

Tony sits against the wall with eyes closed. The silence provokes all of the thoughts he had been ignoring to surface. His mother. The werewolves. Percival. His role as the Phoenix. He hasn't had much time to process the death of his mother, and now the deaths of about fifty werewolves pile on top of that. He believes that he is the reason that they all died. And he's angry that if he tries to escape again they will kill more creatures.

If he tries to escape, people die. If he doesn't do anything, everyone still dies. It's a lose-lose situation. What the hell am I supposed to do? His jaw clenches and he squeezes his eyes shut.