All I Do Is Draw

Thankfully, getting Blue out of the forest and back to the others wasn't too difficult. Once his injured wing was secure, Scarlet and Grey helped him to his hooves and walked with him through the trees. 

Scarlet walked a few paces ahead, making sure they didn't get lost, whilst Grey stayed at Blue's side, one wing curled protectively over his back.

Blue barely said a word on the way back to Cloudbase. The flight being quiet was normal enough, they were often tired after a long day, after all. But the uneasy feeling that lingered in the air wasn't, and Scarlet didn't know what to do about it.

Magenta and Ochre were in the cockpit, leaving him and Grey in the cabin with Blue, who had sat down by the window and not taken his eyes from the sky outside ever since.

Grey clearly understood what he was going through. No doubt he'd been through something similar after his accident with WASP. That had damaged his wings, as well as the rest of him. But Scarlet had no idea how to approach this. 

He wanted to talk to Adam, to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be okay. But it wasn't that simple.

In theory a broken wing shouldn't be different from any other injury. But that wasn't really true. It was also one of few injuries that Scarlet hadn't experienced himself, and one of even fewer that he never would experience. For the simple reason that he was not a pegasus.

He hated not knowing what to do. Especially when his friends were involved.

About halfway through the flight back to Cloudbase, Brad found him in the galley, staring at the water in his cup rather than drinking it.

Paul's ear twitched as Brad's hoof-steps pulled him back to the world around him.

"Hey," Brad said, slightly hushed. "I think he's asleep," he added, glancing over his shoulder into the cabin.

"Is he?" Paul asked, and Brad nodded. "It'll be another hour or so before we get to Cloudbase. The rest will do him good."

Brad hummed in response and took a step closer to Paul. "Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine. I'm not the one who got hurt."

Brad didn't look convinced, and Paul didn't blame him. The other Captains all knew him too well to let him get away with the 'I'm fine' card anymore.

Paul sighed and set his cup down on the counter, the gentle hum of his magic fading as the glow around his horn dissipated. "I'm just worried, that's all."

Brad gave another nod, clearly glad to get a more accurate answer that time. "I'm worried too. A broken wing is awful for any pegasus, but for a pegasus like Adam... I'm sure the worst possible outcomes are swirling through his head right now, and to be honest, I don't blame him. It's scary."

"That fear I can understand, to a degree, anyway," Paul said, lifting a hoof to touch his horn. "A broken horn still scares me. It happening to Pat is even more terrifying, because that wouldn't heal, and it could kill him," he explained, before dropping his hoof back to the floor. "But a broken wing is different."

"I don't think it's that different," Brad said with a small shrug. "But I'm a pegasus with unicorn family, and I have damaged my wings pretty badly and come out the other side able to fly again. So maybe my perspective isn't the same."

"I don't know." Paul sighed again. "But what I do know, is that Adam won't be able to fly for a while, and regardless of what Fawn tells him, he's going to hate every minute of it. He gets restless just being stuck inside for too many days in a row. Being completely grounded and unable to stretch his wings, not even able to fly a few laps of the sports hall, will be really hard on him."

"It will. So we'll have to support him through it. Same as we always do when one of us gets hurt." And Brad was right, of course.

-----

Adam slept for the remainder of the flight, and didn't stir until Paul gently woke him as they approached Cloudbase.

There were medics waiting for them in the hangar, Doctor Fawn included, and they quickly made their way over to Adam as soon as he was out of the plane. Paul followed as the med-team took Adam to sickbay, leaving post-mission debriefs to Pat, Brad, and Rich to handle.

One of the medics spoke to Scarlet on the walk through Cloudbase's long corridors towards the sickbay. The young pegasus stallion's ears flicked back, his feathers twitching at his sides, as Scarlet gave him the details. A barely contained flinch just at the mention of somepony breaking their wing. It really was a universal fear amongst pegasi. Not that Paul had doubted that, but seeing it with his own eyes outside of Adam grimacing when Brad got a little too detailed about exactly how badly beaten up his wings had been after his accident, was certainly something.

He didn't really know what. But something.

Fawn restricted Paul to the waiting room and told him to stay put. He wouldn't deal with Paul's worrying whilst trying to treat a patient. But that wasn't new.

So, he waited. And after about ten minutes the waiting turned to pacing. Adam wasn't in any immediate danger, but Paul was still worried, and he didn't like sitting around at the best of times.

Half an hour passed before Fawn appeared. Well, Paul heard him before he saw him - the distinctive click click click of hooves on the hard floors approaching the room. Paul stopped his pacing and turned to the door, his ears pricked forward and alert as Fawn stepped into the waiting area.

“How is he?” Paul asked before he could stop himself.

“Shaken and bruised, but the worst of it is his wing,” Fawn said simply.

“Broken?”

“Yes,” Fawn nodded. “As broken wings go it’s not too severe. Though I would say it was quite close.”

Paul tilted his head to the side slightly, confused. “What do you mean?”

Fawn thought for a moment before sitting back on his haunches. He lifted his front hooves and pointed just above his bent elbow. “The fracture would be about here on a leg, close to the elbow.” He moved his hoof down and tapped the joint. “If it had been even an inch closer, it could have easily complicated things,” he explained before standing up straight again. “However, as it stands, he shouldn’t need surgery, and so long as he rests and lets himself heal, then he should be fine.”

Paul breathed a sigh of relief. That was very good news. “So he’ll be okay?”

“He’ll need to keep his hooves on the ground for a while, which I’m sure he won’t appreciate. But yes, I expect a full recovery.”

“He won’t like being grounded for so long, no,” Paul said. Adam would get restless if he was grounded for more than a few days between missions. A broken bone could take a couple of months to heal. Paul didn’t know if that applied to wings too, but it probably wasn’t that different, right? “I’m just glad that he’ll be okay.”

Fawn nodded again. “I’m going to keep him here overnight just to make sure everything is as it should be. Once the fracture is sufficiently healed he’ll need physio and to ease himself back into flying, but that can be sorted out closer to the time. For now, he needs rest.”

“Can I see him?” Paul asked. Wanting little else right now than to see Adam.

“Yes, but keep it brief,” Fawn answered. He turned toward the door and gestured for Paul to follow. “I think he might still be quite shaken by what happened. But I’ve treated enough pegasi with injured wings over the years to expect it, to some degree.”

“He didn’t say a word on the way back to Cloudbase. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that before.”

“Everypony responds to things differently. But as a rule, pegasi are as protective of their wings as unicorns are of their horns. Neither are always aware of it, but it’s true all the same. Damage there is a fear they all seem to carry, just as I’m sure you do too.”

Paul can only nod to that. He understood. He’d seen it. With others, in the past. And now with his best friend, and he hated it.

Fawn walked Paul to Adam’s room before leaving him be. Paul knocked on the door before going in, and Adam lifted his head from his pillow at the sound. Even hurt and shaken, it was nigh impossible to sneak up on him. His wing was properly bandaged and strapped up now, held in place against his side. He looked tired, and despite Paul’s efforts, conversation was sparse.

What Brad had said earlier about the worst possible outcomes swirling through Adam's head seemed to be rather accurate. Sure, Adam didn't say it, but Paul knew him well. And he knew when he was worrying and thinking too much. He didn't blame him, of course not. But those spirals of 'what ifs' never did anyone any good.

That one he did know from experience.

Watching a pegasus fall out of the sky would always be chilling. There was a difference, of course, a big one, between a controlled dive that they could pull out of in a heartbeat, and the simple effect of gravity forcing them back to the ground when they could no longer keep themselves in the air.

Scarlet had spent enough time working with pegasi to be able to spot the difference, even at a distance. And what he'd just seen was, undoubtedly, the latter. 

One moment Blue had been flying swiftly through the air after their target. The next, said target had swooped back and Blue had been hit, hit hard, and he'd dropped like a rock towards the trees below.

The woodland that bordered the industrial compound the Mysteron's had targeted was dense and wild. Pushed back away from the buildings but otherwise left to its own devices. Finding somepony in that forest would be difficult.

Scarlet followed Blue’s rapid descent, and practically leapt into a gallop the second it became obvious that he wasn't going to, or couldn't catch himself.

Blue disappeared from sight. The crunch of distant branches and a scattering of birds fleeing into the air told Scarlet exactly what had happened. He needed to get to Blue as quickly as possible, his hooves kicking up the dirt as he ran, weaving around trees and jumping gnarled roots that jutted up out of the ground.

A spark of magic locked onto the tracker in Blue's uniform - a trick that Magenta had taught him some time ago that often came in useful - and told him roughly where he was. 

Scarlet followed the signal, not stopping even when a narrow stream came into view ahead of him. He easily cleared the water in one swift jump, losing no momentum as he landed on the other side.

A pink light flashed in the corners of his vision as his comms beeped in his ears, and his cap mic swung down into place.

"Scarlet, have you found him?" asked Magenta.

"No, but he's close," Scarlet replied. The signal was getting stronger, Blue had to be around here somewhere.

Scarlet slowed to a brisk trot, his eyes darting back and forth in search of a glimpse of blue amongst the greens and browns. "Damn it, Blue, where did you land?" he muttered between heavy breaths. Another slightly stronger spark gave him a clearer signal, and he turned and headed in that direction.

The first physical sign that he was going in the right direction was a single blue feather laying in the dirt.

"Blue?" Scarlet called out as he quickened his pace to a canter. He didn't get a response, but he didn't need one.

He pushed his way through the undergrowth, spotting another feather caught in the bushes. And on the other side, sprawled across the grass and worryingly still, was Blue.

"Magenta, I found him," Scarlet said quickly, before flicking his cap mic up and out of the way and dashing over to Blue. Magic shimmered around his horn as he tried to assess the condition Blue was in, though he could figure at least some of it out with his eyes.

"Blue, it's Scarlet, can you hear me?" Scarlet asked, cautious of touching him, not wanting to hurt him further. For the moment, he would rely solely on his magic giving him information on what was wrong.

Blue was breathing, and his pulse was a little fast, but he was alive and that was the most important thing. He hadn't responded to Scarlet's arrival, but the pained look on his face suggested that he was at least partially conscious. 

A quick glance at the broken branches above them confirmed Scarlet's theory of what had happened. The cuts and scrapes marking Blue's fur and feathers with red only added to that.

Scarlet’s magic gave no indication of injuries to Blue’s neck or back, which was a relief on its own. His legs seemed okay too, and there were no signs of any large bleeds anywhere. He’d definitely be bruised and sore for a while, but the fewer larger injuries, the better. 

One of Blue's wings was draped loosely over him, but the other was partly trapped underneath him, folded at an odd angle. The metallic tang of blood lingered in the air, mixed with dirt and sap from the broken branches that had ripped and torn at Blue’s feathers. Blood was dotted amongst the blue and yellow, and loose feathers were scattered around him. Some looked like they'd been dipped in red ink.

"Blue? I need to know if you're with me, buddy," Scarlet urged. Seeing Blue like this left a cold weight in the pit of his stomach. He needed to figure out the condition the fall had left him, and he needed to do it fast.

It took a moment, but eventually Blue opened his eyes and looked up at Scarlet. "Paul...?" he said, rough and quiet.

"Yeah, I'm here. Just stay still, okay? I've got you," Scarlet replied, meeting Blue's gaze with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

Blue gave a small nod and closed his eyes again. His breath shuddered as he exhaled. Something was definitely not right.

"My- my wing. It hurts-" Blue said shakily, his voice tight. Scarlet couldn't tell if it was from pain or fear. Or both. It was probably both.

Pegasus wings were powerful but delicate things. Many ponies, unicorns and earth ponies especially, didn’t realise how easy it could be to damage them. Broken feathers weren't uncommon, and whilst serious cases could affect flight, more often than not it just left the wings looking scruffy for a while whilst the feathering grew back. 

Anything that cut deeper than scapes or damaged plumage, however, could quickly range from concerning to devastating. And for a pony like Blue, a pegasus who loved to fly, who would probably spend all his time in the air if he could? Any kind of injury to his wings was frightening.

Scarlet had known at least one pegasus who had been almost completely grounded after suffering a badly broken wing. Even long after it had healed, they'd struggled to stay in the air for long. He didn't even want to imagine what something like that would do to Blue.

"Okay, I'll have a look," Scarlet said calmly. He didn't want to add to Blue's panic. It was already rare for him to be visibly afraid like this, Scarlet didn't want to make it any worse.

Scarlet pushed a little more magic into his spell, lowering his head to hold his horn closer to Blue's left wing - the one draped over him. Pale blue light, glittering with white and specks of green, shone against Blue's feathers as the spell did its work. Scarlet wasn't a medic, he couldn't heal wounds quickly like some unicorns could, but his magic did work as assessment and first aid, and right now that was what he needed.

Scratches and nicks of damage pinged across the length of Blue's wing where feathers had been torn out and the skin beneath had snagged on the tree branches. These were things that would heal easily. Feathers took time to grow back in, but relatively minor damage like this shouldn't keep a pegasus on the ground.

Scarlet carefully stepped over Blue and moved his focus to his right wing. If there was a more serious injury, he suspected it would be here. Trapped under Blue's weight and held at an awkward angle, it had likely taken more of the impact when he hit the ground. Scarlet really, truly hoped it wasn't anything too serious.

He took a breath, then shifted his magic over, the blue glow fading from one wing and settling on the other. Similar small pings of damage popped up at first, but were quickly overridden by a much sharper signal.

Scarlet focused his magic on that area, and swallowed hard as he processed the information he was receiving. Close to the elbow joint, just above it, was a much bigger flare. Internal damage, very possibly a fracture.

The blue glow around Scarlet's horn faded away and he stood up straight.

"Adam," he said, keeping his voice level despite the worry that had started to gnaw at him. Staying calm and professional was never easy when it was Adam who was injured. Especially not like this. "Do you think you can sit up? Or at least lay on your belly, rather than your side?" he asked. Whilst he didn't know a lot about treating a broken wing, he did know the basics - it had been covered in first aid training many times over the years. But he couldn't do any of that with Blue's wing still underneath him.

Blue nodded and lifted his head. "Yeah, yeah I think so," he said, a little steadier now, but Scarlet knew him too well, and the pain and fear was still very much there.

Scarlet crouched at Blue's side to help ease him upright, matching his slow movements to avoid hurting him. Soon, he was laying comfortably on his belly, his hind legs close to his sides and his front legs tucked against his chest. He stretched out his left wing, wincing as the movement tugged at the scrapes and pulled feathers, but other than that the movement was fluid, confirming that the damage was minimal.

The right wing, however...

Trying to move it was a bad idea, and that became obvious immediately. Blue's feathers twitched and he gritted his teeth, and the wing stayed half-folded at his side.

"Shit..."

"Easy does it," Scarlet said gently. His horn lit up again and magic flowed across Blue's injured wing, focusing on the point of pain and pushing energy into a spell that should help to ease it. He couldn't get rid of all of it, not for an injury like this. It wouldn't last as long as proper painkillers either, but it was better than nothing. "Adam, you're going to hate this, but I need you to stay calm."

Blue looked up at him, an uncommon dread in his eyes. He knew what Scarlet was going to say but didn't want to accept it. "Why?"

"Because it will be easier. For both of us, but mostly you. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Blue took a deep breath and looked away. "Just tell me..."

Scarlet watched him for a moment. He hated seeing Adam like this, he really, really did. But he couldn't keep the truth from him. "I think your wing is broken."

Blue let out a shuddering breath and rested his head on his front hooves, his ears pressed flat against his skull. "Okay..."

Scarlet laid a gentle hoof on Blue's shoulder. "You'll be alright."

Blue didn't look at him, just stared forward at the grass and leaves, dotted with blue and yellow feathers.

Before Scarlet could say more his epaulettes flashed pink, and the mic in his cap swung down and into place.

"Scarlet," said Magenta. "Everything okay? How's Blue?"

Scarlet took a breath before he replied, willing himself to keep calm. Splitting his focus between his magic and his injured friend was difficult enough already. Adding another thing didn't make it any easier. 

"Injured, but awake and aware," he replied. "How are things out there?"

"We've dealt with our flying troublemaker. Another of the pegasi managed to take them out after Blue went down. They won't cause anymore problems," Magenta explained. Scarlet was simply glad that the pony responsible for hurting Adam had been stopped. "Grey just headed out to find you two. He's got first-aid gear with him. He's flying over the forest, could you send up a flare or something so he can locate you easier?"

Scarlet looked up at the canopy overhead. It was thick and full of leaves. Grey likely wouldn't be able to spot them from above unless he found the damaged branches. And flying through them would be tricky without catching his wings on anything. But a bit of magic could pull them clear for long enough to allow Grey to fly through.

"Yes, I can do that," Scarlet said, his gaze dropping back to Blue, laying quietly and still staring at nothing. "Can you and Ochre handle everything on your end?"

"We'll be fine, there shouldn't be too much cleanup needed. You focus on Blue, okay? Just keep us updated."

"S.I.G." Scarlet nodded.

His cap mic flipped back up into place, and he allowed himself a soft sigh as he closed his eyes, just for a moment. 

This was not the kind of situation he'd ever wanted to be in. Okay, a lot of what he dealt with whilst on duty were situations that he didn't want to be in. But his friends getting hurt was a major recurring one. And very near the top of that list, second only to the absolute worst of possibilities, were two specific things.

One was Magenta suffering an injury that could permanently damage or even destroy his magic.

The other was Blue or Grey damaging their wings to the point that it left them unable to fly. 

Grey had already relearned how to fly once in his life. But as far as Scarlet knew, Blue had never suffered any major injuries to his wings. So a fracture there, even a minor one, was almost definitely a worst fear come true for Blue.

Scarlet may not be a pegasus, but it was a fear he could understand, at least to some degree.

A broken horn, after all, could easily kill a unicorn if severe enough. Knowing that he'd likely heal from it didn't take that fear away.

He needed to focus. Look after Blue, and make sure Grey could find them easily.

"Okay. Adam?" Scarlet said, trying to get Blue's attention again.

The twitch of an ear and a quiet 'hmm?' was the only response he got.

"This might hurt for a moment, but the spell should stick for a while, alright?"

"Yeah, sure," Blue replied, still quiet, but at least he'd used words that time. It was so strange seeing him like this.

Scarlet watched him for a few seconds, but he knew he wasn't going to get anything else from him.

Carefully, very carefully, Scarlet pushed his magic into Blue's injured wing. A little basic telekinesis allowed him to gently move it so that it sat folded against his body. Blue flinched and grit his teeth, but was otherwise silent.

Scarlet didn't have anything to make a sling out of, not until Grey got here, so for now this was the best he could do. He pulled his magic away slowly, not wanting to jostle Blue's injury too much. 

The glow around his horn faded, as did much of the light clinging to Blue's feathers. But there was still a slight shimmer around the point of injury where the painkiller was still active. That should ease the pain Blue was in for a while. At least until they could get proper medicine into him.

A small spark of magic told Scarlet roughly where Grey was. Flying over the forest not too far away. He stood beneath the broken branches, his eyes flicking across the damaged area as he determined how he was going to do this. The gap didn't need to be large. Grey's wingspan was smaller than Blue's, so he didn't need as much space to manoeuvre. But for something like this, even Blue wouldn't need a lot of room. Both were capable of tucking their wings close to fit through tight spaces.

Scarlet's horn lit up, and smaller branches above sparkled with blue light as he moved them carefully, just enough to create an opening in the canopy for a pegasus to fly through. A second bit of magic temporarily locked the moved branches into place. 

Once that was done, the magic around his horn glowed brighter as he pushed more energy into it. The light shifted from his usual pale blue to a bright red, and with one more push, a burst of magic zoomed up past the trees like a shot from a flare gun. Sparkling scarlet against the overcast sky.

Scarlet watched from the ground, and soon saw the familiar silhouette of Grey flying overhead.

Blue was still laying quietly. Scarlet really didn't know what to think of that, but he was worried. Definitely worried.

He wasn't given a chance to dwell on it for long, though, as the flapping of wings above was quickly followed by Grey swooping through the canopy, spreading his wings wide to catch and steady himself, before hovering a few feet off the ground.

"Scarlet," Grey said in a way of greeting, before his eyes drifted to Blue, and he looked as concerned as Scarlet felt. "Is he okay?" he asked as he settled his hooves on the ground and tucked his wings at his sides.

"I think this might be one you'll understand better than me," Scarlet said, not looking away from Blue.

"What do you mean?"

Scarlet finally turned to face Grey. "I think his wing is broken."

Grey's ears flicked back, his gaze drifting back to Blue for a moment, before he sighed and nodded. "Okay. Let's patch him up and get him out of here. The sooner we can get him back to Cloudbase, the better." The worry and shared pain in his eyes betrayed the calm in his voice, but it wasn't something Scarlet could blame him for. Definitely not.

Scarlet glanced up at the trees as he cancelled the spell holding the branches still. The leaves rustled as they snapped back into place. Then he turned his focus to tending to Blue. 

Grey lifted his wing to let Scarlet reach his saddle bag full of first-aid equipment, and Scarlet took everything he'd need before getting to work.

The last time he'd done this had been in a first-aid training session. He'd been working with Blue then, too. Now he was, once again, carefully putting Blue's wing into a sling. But this time, he was dealing with an actual injury. And as with anything, that made it so much worse.

Grey laid down in front of Blue and tried to talk to him. He asked how he was feeling, if anything other than his wing hurt, even simply tried to distract him from what was happening for a moment. Scarlet listened, but Blue didn't really say much. Scarlet wasn't sure if it was fear, or shock, or pain, or all three. But whatever it was, he didn't like it, not one bit.

Part One

‘....ow….’ 

Paul lay on the bed, stared up at the dimly lit ceiling above him, and let his eyes figure out how to focus on their own before he put any effort into forcing the issue. 

It was a familiar ceiling, cream acoustic tiles interspersed at regular intervals with light panels, and with his hearing coming back he could recognise the beeps and muffled rattles and other noises of Medical. But none of that inspired him into action. Lying here, he’d learned, was much safer for everyone, and sometimes it even let him delay the inevitable. 

Well, that’s what he told himself anyway.

‘I wonder how long it’s been…must have been a while,’ was his next - and deliberately vague thought. Too much focus drew attention that he fervently did not want. Perhaps a minute or three slipped past and he considered moving, but the idea held very little appeal. Everything was still blurry, he was about as strong as a charred toothpick, and his body felt… crunchy, like there was a layer of candy floss under his skin. ‘Ugh. Hate this feeling. But maybe it’s for the better. It’ll slow me down if they haven’t figured it out this time.’ 

The inside of his head was still quiet, but that didn’t mean anything, not yet, and he didn’t dare to hope. 

Hope, he’d learned, was costly.

‘And I don’t know how much longer I can pay the bill…’

“Captain Scarlet?” 

He automatically looked in the direction of the voice and squinted until he could make out a vaguely human-shaped figure with a central splotch of pale brown flanked with white on two sides: a lab coat over a tunic. 

“It’s Doctor Fawn, how do you feel?” 

Paul let another minute go by before he gathered the effort needed to answer the question. ‘Nothing’s happened yet...maybe I can risk it.’ He drew in a breath, tried to work some moisture into his mouth so he could talk, not just croak… then icy fingers proverbially grabbed him by the neck. 

THIS IS THE VOICE OF THE MYSTERONS boomed inside his skull. Like the ringing of an immense gong, it was a sound that obliterated all thought, all will, all choice. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU MUST DO.

He fought it, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave! He could feel his body sitting up, a hand ripping the IV out of his arm, legs swinging over the side of the bed to stand, to lunge, to attack that figure he still couldn’t quite make out----!

BANG!

Darkness, and with it, blessed silence. 

Once again the only voice inside his head was his own. 

0o0o0

“Damn.” Feeling utterly wrung out by the failure, Doctor Fawn leaned against the outer wall of the secure ward and rubbed at her eyes. “I really thought we had it that time.” 

Inside the room she could hear noises and murmuring voices as the nurses and orderlies shifted the patient to a gurney so they could move him to the prep room. At the same time a cleaning unit was diligently scrubbing up the mess and Security were removing the auto-turret that had delivered the kill shot. 

Fawn hid her grimace. Personally she would have preferred to let the man at least start to recover first - she knew it would make reviving him that much easier - but it just wasn’t worth the risk, they had to do it now because sometimes he got better ahead of schedule ‘and the last time that happened we almost lost one of the team.’ She shook off the memories of the reports from that day. That had been bad.  

“Fawn?” 

Fawn looked up to see her 2IC, Doctor Burgundy, standing within easy speaking distance and looking at her with concern. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, quickly glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot before lowering his voice and leaning in closer. “Emily, that was a close one.” 

“Yes, Sam, I’m fine, and yes, it was close.” Emily held up her right hand, thumb and forefinger only a few millimeters apart. “It was this close to working! We almost had it! I just need to run a few more tests, a few more simulations, tweak the gear, and then we can try again.” 

“If the colonel lets you try again,” Sam countered. He straightened up to his full height - and considering he was six foot two in his socks while she barely topped out at five and a half with boots on, there was a lot of him to straighten. “Emily, I know you were watching his face, I was too,” he began in that almost patronising tone he used whenever he wanted to convince her of something. “You had to have seen what I saw. He’s given up. Every single time we’ve woken him, every intervention we’ve tried, it’s ended with him getting shot in the head. Right now we need to ask ourselves is this worth it? Is it right for us to keep waking him up only to put him down again. Personally,” Sam glanced through the observation window, then turned back to her, “it’s my opinion that it’d be kinder to let him go instead of subjecting him to this trauma again and again.” 

“Then it’s a damn good thing it’s not down to yer opinion, Doctor Burgundy,” Fawn snapped back. “My predecessors never gave up, I’m not about to either.” Ignoring how much her hand was shaking, she pointed at the room and the people inside it. “That man gave up everything to keep this world spinning, and he did it because Spectrum promised him that they weren’t going to give up on him! I took on that promise when I became CMO, and I’m not giving up on him.” She glared up at him, absolutely incensed. “Either git on board or git off this boat, and don’t think I won’t take this ta White.” 

Several emotions flickered over Burgundy’s face, all of them too quick for her to interpret before a professional mask covered the lot. “Understood, Doctor.” Like the ex-WAAF he was, Burgundy clicked to something approximating attention, pivoted on his heel, and marched off. 

Flinty-eyed, Fawn watched him go, then stuck her head into the ward. “Let me know as soon as the prep work’s done,” she ordered, barely giving them time to acknowledge her before she was striding in the opposite direction, towards her office. 

Once she was there, she shut the door behind her to lock out the world, dropped herself behind the desk, turned to her computer, and called up the first round of data from the monitoring equipment that Scarlet had been hooked up to. Emily stared at the scrolling numbers, then blew out a frustrated sigh, cleared the screen, and held her head in both hands. ‘Ugh. I don’t have enough brain power for that right now. Think, Emily, think! What did you miss? What did Dad miss? What did everyone between me and Dad miss?’ She ran her hands through her hair - the Wilkie family brown hair that she wore in a neat pixie cut - then called up her predecessors’ files. ‘If in doubt, start at the beginning.’ She navigated through decades of archives, found the security video from that fatal day, now almost forty two years ago, girded herself, and hit ‘play’.

0o0o0o0o0

                        “SECURITY!”         CRASH     “GO! GOGOGO!”                                               “SPECTRUM IS RED!” 

 Evacuate Evacuate Evacuate  

               “FAWN! GET BACK!”            “NO!”                Crash!         “JAMES!” 

                       “Everyone outta here, now!”      “RUN!”      “Get OUT! NOW!”

    “Aah!”                   Evacuate Evacuate Evacuate  “Security to Medical! SECURITY TO MEDICAL!”       “GET DOWN!” BANG! BANGBANGBANG!

BANG!

thud

The shocked silence was very loud, even with the whooping of the sirens and the robotic command of ‘evacuate’ still sounding in the background, and in the midst of that chaos stood Ochre, breathing hard and pale, but the hands on his pistol were rock steady and both it and his eyes were fixed on the body at his feet, locked on the bloody mess of the chest, not at the ruin of Scarlet’s face, the damage left behind by the final shot needed to put him down and stop his rampage through Medical. 

Anyone else might have risked a quick look around, but he didn’t, he couldn’t. He knew how quickly a replicant could get back up again. “What the FUCK just happened?!” he demanded. 

Cradling his right arm, Fawn gingerly picked himself up off the floor, sickened to his core. “...I wish I knew, Captain… I bloody wish I knew…” 

0o0o0

Bright!

Groggy and still trying to identify which way was up, Paul hissed at the light, tried to cover his eyes - and snapped fully awake when he couldn’t! ‘Restraints? What-?’ 

“Scarlet?” 

The caution - no, the fear, the quiet fear in that one word question made his blood freeze. A look left, then right, then at the door, and he found Fawn, standing well back from him… with one of the Spectrum commandos at his side, rifle to his shoulder and aimed at him. 

“Fawn…” Mouth as dry as the Gobi, Paul could feel the world starting to twist around him, grey circling his vision as the auto-nurse attached to him warbled a soft alert. “What did I do?”

“Scarlet…” Fawn tried, but Paul interrupted him. 

“Doctor, I’m tied to the bed, there’s an armed guard on me, and the last thing I remember is being on a mission. What. Did. I. Do.” 

“It wasn’t you.” Fawn was full CMO-mode, uttering words like they were chiselled into the bedrock. “You were killed on the mission, throat shot. When you revived the Mysterons must have found a way to briefly take control of you. Green’s found a security vid and there’s a glimpse of some green rings on your body so we know they’ve done something, we’re still figuring out exactly what. No one was seriously hurt and we’re working on it now, I’ve got both Spectrum Medical and Spectrum Research working-” 

“Who stopped me?” Scarlet interrupted him, but he didn’t direct the question at Fawn. It was directed at the commando. 

“Captain Ochre, sir.” 

“Is he okay?” 

A pause, the commando shifting a little on his feet as he figured out how to word his answer, but the gun did not waver. “No, sir. He’s not.” 

“Understood. Thank you, Carter.” That was when he noticed the odd humming. “What’s…?”

“Van de Graaff generator.” Fawn pointed to something behind his head. “We know the Mysterons are, for lack of a better word, blinded by electrical fields and this is the closest we can get to putting you next to an electrical substation. So far it seems to be working.” 

Scarlet nodded slowly, absorbing that information, measuring it against what little they did understand about the Mysterons and replicants, and adding in what he recalled about the devices. “...but it’s not a permanent solution, is it? And…” he hesitated, “...it’s vulnerable, isn’t it?” 

He could see Fawn trying to find the best way to frame it, to cast the situation in as good a light as possible, but his shoulders dropped slightly. “Yes.” The cost of that admission was clear on the doctor’s face. “We can’t run it forever. Yes, we’re getting a second one up here, and a third one too, yes, we’ve got redundancies and backups and bypasses and it’s looking like Frankenstein’s workshop down in Engineering right now with them building whatever they can think of that’ll be better, but right now it’s the best we’ve got. Unfortunately it takes time for a Van de Graaff to warm up and get the electrical field going, and it’s got some big points of failure.” Fawn shifted the clipboard in his arms, but very tellingly, he still didn’t get any closer. “I want to run some tests, try and get to the bottom of all this…”

“Yes.” Scarlet’s agreement was immediate and without hesitation. “Blanket permission, do whatever you have to do to figure this out.” 

“S.I.G.” At last Fawn approached the bed. He put down the clipboard on a wheeled workstation, grabbed the supplies for a blood draw, and reached for the restraint on his wrist. 

Scarlet could see the train of thought clearly: take it off, reposition his arm better for the cannula, to let him hold it and manipulate it as needed. “NO.” Scarlet kept his voice low, but firm. “Not yet.” He turned his arm instead, exposed his inner elbow, and twisted his shoulders to straighten his arm. “It’s not ideal, but it’s safer.” 

A blink, then the doctor looked at him and nodded once. “S.I.G.” 

“Doctor… I meant what I said. No matter how invasive, do it. Do whatever you have to do to figure this problem out before…” he swallowed hard, “...before I have to do what needs to be done to solve it. Permanently.”

Fawn looked him full in the face, his eyes widening as the words and the intent behind them registered. A hard swallow as well, then a sharp nod was the acknowledgement. “I understand. But it’s not going to come to that. I promise.” 

But as hours turned into days, that promise started to wear thin. 

Three days after the dawning of this new horror, it was far too late at night when Colonel White sat down in his private office to await his CMO’s arrival, ‘and that he’s asked to meet me here, instead of me coming to his office… that does not bode well.’

Beepbeep

The door unlocked and Fawn, unshaven and rumpled, let himself in. He thumped himself into the visitor’s chair and slumped there, rubbing his eyes with his right hand. While he waited, White observed him with mounting concern. What he could see of the CMO’s face was heavily lined with fatigue and his mouth was pulled into a thin line. White steeled himself. Whatever this was, if it was taking Fawn this long to get it out… it could not be good. 

The CMO finally dropped his hand and raised his head, weariness warring with barely contained heartache. “I’ve got Spectrum Medical sourcing a cryonics capsule for Scarlet. It’ll be shipped up here tomorrow.”

Charles startled. Out of everything, he hadn’t been expecting that. “What, why?” 

“Because the only way I can promise him that he’s not going to hurt anyone, the only thing he’s going to actually believe, is if I freeze him solid.” 

“But such drastic measures…!”

“Charles, you’re not hearing me!” On his feet now, Fawn slammed both hands on the desk. “Three days ago Paul Metcalfe woke up and found out his second-worst nightmare had just come true! The Mysterons are taking him over again and there’s not a damn thing he or me or anyone else can do about it! Unless I can convince him that I can…” Fawn swallowed hard, “that I can neutralise him, that I can put him down and keep him down while me and my team figure this out, he’s going to break out of that ward and permanently kill himself before his worst nightmare can happen!” Fawn gave him a hard look, his mouth a thin slash across his face. “You and I both know that he’s already figured out how to do it and he’s got a plan to make it happen. I haven’t figured this out yet, hell, I don’t have the damnedest idea of where to even start looking for how they did it, much less how to fix it. I. Need. More. Time.” The CMO punctuated each word with a finger stabbed onto the desk. “Paul knows exactly what he is capable of. He will not take the risk of giving me that time unless he is absolutely certain that he won’t be able to hurt anyone.” 

White held those words, let them sink in until he could all but taste the fears that coated them. Yes, he could override this, he could order the building of a box of bars instead, a cage on an isolated rock or a substation somewhere remote where the Mysterons couldn’t use Scarlet to hurt anyone while Fawn and his team worked on this… but the risk… the risk was just too great. Yes, this would hurt his people, it would wound them deeply, but the alternative… ‘If something happened, if he escaped, if he got loose and killed one of his team… Scarlet’s next action would be to kill himself, and both their blood and his would be on my hands.’ 

He hated it, he hated it so very much, he hated it right down to the very marrow in his bones, but this choice was the only one that they - that he - could make. It was Scarlet’s own calculation, the equation he ran before he stepped in front of certain death for the sake of his team, for the mission, and for the world:  ‘better one than many, better me than them’. “...very well, Doctor Fawn,” his voice was hollow to his own ears. “Requisition whatever you need to get it done.”

“S.I.G.” Fawn dragged himself out of the chair, scrubbed a hand over his face, started to turn away, then turned back. “Charles,” the words were quiet, “you need to get the backup teams here, Captains and stand-in Angels, and I’m pulling a team up from Spectrum Medical. No one’s properly functional right now, and I’m sending Ochre, Blue, and Rhapsody on fourteen days of medical stand down as soon as this is done. They need to be off this base.”    

“That is wise, Doctor.”

“It’s what you pay me for,” Fawn tried to quip, but the words fell out of the air like so many stones. “I’ll tell you something when I know something.” 

“S.I.G.” Already pulling across a notepad to draft up the orders, White let him go. This problem was so far out of his wheelhouse it was laughable, but he would do what he could to ensure that Fawn and his team would have everything they needed. 

0o0o0 

Standing outside the window to the locked observation room that Scarlet typically occupied, Fawn took a minute to order his words. Yes, he should have been getting a couple of hours in the Room of Sleep, but he had to get this out of the way first. 

Inside, Scarlet was waiting expectantly, anxious for news. He’d been freed of the restraints on the first day, once the generator humming away in the corner was proven effective, and the special long leads of the autonurse let him get to the door to accept meal trays and pass items, but he refused to leave the room and he refused to let anyone in unless it was absolutely necessary - and comforting him, Fawn already knew - didn’t make that list. 

Fawn absolutely hated himself for how that expectant waiting morphed into something far too close to despair as he outlined the complete lack of progress and the plan he had for the immediate future while he worked on this. “...you’ll have time to talk to everyone before it happens,” was how he wrapped up the briefing. “I’m going to make sure of it.”  

“…No.” Paul shook his head in utter rejection of that idea. “I can’t risk it. The longer I’m up and about, the more danger they’re in. They can catch me up when you thaw me out to fix whatever the Mysterons have done to me. Get them to write me letters or record messages or something in the interim, that’ll do.”

“Please, they love you, let them say goodbye to you,” Fawn urged, “I’ve seen what happens when people don’t get that chance. If not for you, then do it for them, they need to say goodbye to you now in case something happens and they’re not going to be there when you wake up.” Fawn met his eyes, silently begging that he’d allow this. “Paul, this is a risk worth taking. Trust me. Please.” 

Paul’s face crumpled as that set in. 

He was being taken out of the fight. That was the fact of the matter, bare and raw and painfully simple and clear. The risks he took were going to be heaped onto the others… and he was very, very aware of how often everyone else came home because he was the one in the body bag. 

‘I can’t do that to them…I can’t take that away from them.’  “...okay” was his reluctant agreement. “…but as soon as it’s done, as soon as you can, you put me on ice.” 

Fawn nodded slowly. “I promise.” He paused to gather himself, the words he needed to use, and the courage to use them. “The unit and the supplies are going to be here at roughly 1100hrs. We’ll get it installed, prep everything, then let you know when we’re ready.” Fawn had to swallow against a throat that felt like dried out leather as he continued with the logistics. “I’ve… got a plan for how to euthanise you.” 

“Is it something that I can do myself?” Paul asked, and the weight on those words felt like half the world was riding on them. “And is it complicated enough to keep me down?” 

“Yes. I’m running sims and getting it synthesised now.” 

“Good. Thank you.” 

Fawn didn’t say ‘you’re welcome’, because how could you say that in response to something like this? “I’ve got Juniper waiting to talk to you first thing in the morning. You’re going to need to give some instructions about your belongings, he can help you with that.” These logistics were a little easier to talk about, but not by much. 

“Yes, I will…” Paul’s eyes widened and the facade he’d been holding up didn’t just crack, it shattered into a million pieces that scattered across the floor. “Oh… oh lord, I need to call my parents… I… they need to make a plan about the house…I--!”

“Scarlet!” Recognising the signs of an impending panic attack, Fawn started for the door before he remembered himself and kept his hand off the controls. “Scarlet! Look at me! Look at me!” 

Blue eyes locked onto his and Scarlet grabbed at the window frame like a drowning man grabbing for a rope. 

“Scarlet, breathe with me, okay? Breathe, in through your nose, out through your mouth, okay? Can you do that? In -two- three, out -two-three, nice and slow, that’s it, you’ve got it, just breathe, that’s all you need to do right now, just breathe, in-two-three, out-two-three, that’s it, that’s it,” Fawn coached. “In-two-three, out-two-three, in-two-three, out-two-three, that’s it, that’s it, you have it, that’s it. In-two-three, out-two-three…” 

He had no idea how long it took before Scarlet was finally able to haul on the proverbial reins and bring his runaway emotions back under his control, but he was rasping by the time it was over. 

“...thank you…” Paul’s words were hoarse as he leaned on the wall beside the window. “I’m… I’m okay now.”

This time he had no problem with the ‘you’re welcome.’ Fawn pointed to the bed. “Try and get some rest, okay? All of that, it’s a tomorrow problem. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” 

“S.I.G.” Paul nodded. “I’ll try.” He reached for the curtain, then let go of it. “Fawn?” 

“Yes?” 

“You’ll fix this?” 

“I promise.” Fawn straightened up. “I promise, Paul, we’re going to fix this, we’re not going to let them take you away, and we’re not going to let them use you to hurt anyone. I promise.” 

“Thank you.” Paul reached for the curtain again. He half-drew it, then stopped again. “Fawn, when it’s time, I don’t want anyone else around.” 

“I’ll make that happen,” Fawn promised.  

A look to divine the truth, a nod when he found what he was looking for, and a rattle of curtain hooks on the rail as Scarlet drew the curtain to shut out the world… leaving Fawn to hope and pray to whatever god who cared to listen, to beg that entity that he hadn’t just lied and condemned a man who’d given so much and suffered even more to a perpetual tomb. 

0o0o0

The next day by quiet agreement, the word passed from person to person as each shift changed, the area around the observation ward was quietly evacuated. Screens were erected that would block sight, but only distance could block sound, and what was going to happen needed privacy. 

Juniper was first, a notepad and pen in hand, and he brought a portable ‘phone with him so Scarlet’s parents could see him as well as hear him one more (and hopefully not last) time. One by one the others filed in; White, Green, the captains, the Angels, and others on the base who were close to him. Words were spoken, promises were made, and everyone agreed to write letters and record messages for him while he was ‘away’. That was the euphemism that had been settled on, a gentle word to wrap around a hard and painful truth. 

Fawn only paid passing attention to it all, the bulk of his focus on the preparations he was overseeing. 

Day had long turned to dusk by the time it was all done. 

Standing in the hastily emptied store room that’d been chosen for this grim duty, Fawn scowled at the horizontal tank that was the cryonics capsule. It was an ugly thing, bluntly businesslike and painted in an institutional green. The hatch was open and the padded tray extended for the final checks on the interior. A status screen on the side would give them the required information on pressure and temperature, and it was backed by two silvery tanks of liquid nitrogen almost as tall as he was. 

“Is it ready?” Fawn asked. 

“Yes.” Beside him, Chief Engineer Onyx was wiping his hands on a rag and Fawn just couldn’t place the expression on his face. He and his senior engineers had handled the installation, but he’d personally done the bulk of the work. “Easy enough to maintain, it’s got backups for everything, and if there’s a power failure it’ll hold temp for hours.” 

“Good, that’s good.” Fawn nodded. “Thanks, Onyx.” 

“Welcome.” With that he picked up his tool kit and cleared out. 

Fawn didn’t blame him. Yes, it was all psychosomatic, but the capsule… it didn’t feel good, being around it. Boxing that thought away for later, Fawn strode out the door and looked for his team. “Kirimiko, we’ve got everything prepared?” 

“Yes, Doctor Fawn,” the senior nurse nodded. “And this is ready as well.” She took a long case from the pocket of her scrubs and handed it to him: an autoinjector, not unlike an EpiPen, but prepared with a complex chemical cocktail designed to quickly put Scarlet down and keep him down long enough for them to do what needed to be done. 

“Thank you, Kirimiko. Get James and the others ready.” Fawn pocketed it. “I’m going to talk to him now.”

A respectful nod, then she was turning to gather the others while he crossed his all-too silent domain, snagging a wheeled workstation along the way and dragging it with him. 

It was, he reflected, almost like everyone was holding their breath, that moment when you knew that something terrible was about to happen and also knew that there was nothing you could do but hold on and do your best to ride it out. 

When he stepped around the screens, Fawn could see Scarlet sitting on the edge of his bed. He was rubbing at his eyes, grieving and visibly scared, so very, very scared, but as soon as he saw him, Scarlet very deliberately composed himself and shoved all those emotions out of his way. Sliding off the edge of the bed, Scarlet came up to the intercom.

“It’s time?”

“It is.” Fawn was holding onto his professional mask by his fingernails, but he’d be damned before it slipped! Not here, not now!

Paul shifted on his feet, looking down the floor, then away to his left, arms wrapped around himself like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I didn’t think I’d be so afraid,” was the soft admission. “But it makes sense. Every other time I didn’t really have time to think about it and I knew I’d be up and about again in a few hours… but this is different.” 

“Yes, it is,” was what Fawn said, because what else could he say?

Scarlet squared his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.” He backed well away from the door and waited while Fawn placed the autoinjector on the wheeled workstation, unlocked the door, gently pushed it in, then relocked the door. 

As soon as he heard the beep and click of the lock engaging, Scarlet came over and picked up the device. As thick around as his thumb and almost the length of his hand, it was such an innocent-looking thing for what it contained and what it was intended to do. 

“What’s this?” 

“Tetrodoxin, rocuronium, suxamethonium, zicontide, and twelve conopeptides.” Fawn had to fight to keep his voice even. He could not break! He could not add anything else to the burden Scarlet was already carrying! “Goes into a large muscle just like a standard autoinjection. You’ll…” Fawn caught the rising emotion and throttled it before it could escape, “you’ll be dead before you feel the pain.”  

Scarlet weighed the device in his hand, then nodded once. “Understood.” He looked up, and Fawn’s heart ached at the deliberately blank expression that Paul was trying to keep over his own emotions, his own fight to not make this any harder for him. “Thank you, Doctor Fawn.”  

With a rattle of metal hooks on the metal track, Scarlet drew the curtain and blocked out the world. 

Leaning on the window frame, Fawn felt like an absolute coward as he waited for the sound of a falling body, the warble of cessation of vitals, or something else to tell him that a life had ended under his watch. ‘I should be in there with him! Comforting him, not letting him face this alone…but he won’t let me… it’s not safe, and he won’t risk it.’ A hand on his shoulder was James, and Edward gratefully accepted the offered comfort. 

The team slowly assembled as long moments crawled past, each one an eternity… 

Thud

Edward took the time to gather himself, to cram his emotions into a little box and hide it behind the mask of a senior medical professional, then he pushed off the wall and turned to his people. “Okay. Let’s get in there and get this over with.” 

The grim duty was clumsier than any of them would have liked, made worse because they had to move quickly, lest he wake up on them and rampage again. Without speaking a word Fawn knew that like him, they all hated it - both their clumsiness, and the reason why they had to do this. 

Confirming death, getting the patient onto the gurney, transporting him to the theater for the prep work, stripping off the clothing, all of that was easy. But administering the cryopreservative, draining blood and pushing the milky blue fluid in to replace it, that was new and unfamiliar and dear lord he hoped and prayed it wouldn’t become familiar… but he had a feeling, an awful, gut-wrenching feeling, that it was going to become so. 

That feeling persisted as they continued with binding the jaw and limbs to make the wrapping easier, followed by pulling a stockinette cap down over the upper half of the head to keep hair, eyebrows and lashes contained, and the eyes covered. Next was a body-bag of sorts to protect the skin, one fitted with ties and lacings to pull it snug and make it as form-fitting as possible. That was followed by a synthetic felt version, and finally large sheets of thick foil, one last layer of protection to keep the liquid nitrogen from directly touching the body. Finally done, they transported the body to the small storeroom now half taken up by the cryonics capsule, shifted the body to the tray… and paused, the weight of this moment resting heavy.

Fawn looked at the figure on the padded tray, wrapped up in so many layers of silver foil like some sort of futuristic mummy. Even though he knew this was only temporary, it felt so permanent, and it tasted like bitter failure.

“Doctor…” James was hovering, anxious at the delay. 

“Yes, yes, I know.” Fawn reached out and tapped the appropriate button. The tray slid into the depths of the tank-shaped capsule, the door shut and pressurised with a solid-sounding ‘thunk’, and the pumps rumbled as the air was expunged and liquid nitrogen filled the empty space. Fawn watched it all in silence, his eyes on the inset status display as numbers changed and displays flicked from red to green. At last it stilled, the numbers holding steady at −196 °C. 

“It’s done.” Fawn could barely recognise his own voice. “James, add a status check of the unit to the daily checks with instructions to immediately alert Chief Onyx if there’s any issues, changes, or damage.” 

“S.I.G.” 

Fawn stared at that display a moment longer, stepped back just enough to take in the entire machine, then resolutely turned away from it. “Let’s get to work.” 

0o0o0o0o0

Emily pushed herself away from the desk and rubbed at her temples. ‘If only I could get more data! But he doesn’t want us waking him except for trying out fixes, it got too dangerous after the Mysterons figured out how to get around the generators a couple of years later.’ 

Sitting back in her chair with a sigh, Emily turned off the screen and looked in the rough direction of the cryogenics capsule. They’d be calling for her any minute now, needing her to supervise and sign off on Scarlet being frozen into his prison, an innocent man locked away from everyone he loved for their own safety, and her well-shielded heart broke for him. ‘I grew up with stories about him and all of Dad’s friends… what they did to keep us safe… and what he sacrificed to keep all of them safe.’ Tears pricked at her eyes and she dabbed them up with her coat sleeve. ‘Who am I kidding? The most brilliant medical and scientific minds Spectrum could find haven’t been able to figure this out, what hope do I have… and what hope does he have? Maybe Burgundy’s right… maybe we should… I should… just let him go. No.’ Furious with herself, Emily growled and shook that thought off with a violent jerk of her head. ‘I made a promise to him and to Dad. I’m not giving up.’     

“Paging Doctor Fawn to cryo, Doctor Fawn to cryo.” 

Emily got to her feet, used the reflection of the framed photos on her wall to quickly make sure she was in presentable condition, and strode out the door, head held high. She had a job to do. She would see it done. ‘And if I can’t… I’ll pass it on to someone who can, no matter how long it takes.’   

Part 2

Silence. 

Nothing but the bliss of complete silence and a warm, womb-like darkness that cushioned him on all sides, like he was being cradled in a giant’s hands.

It was nice…. really nice, actually. Soothing. Reassuring. Calming in a way that took him back to one of his misty memories from childhood when he’d been curled up warm and safe between his parents while a storm raged outside. 

Quite content to stay in this moment, Paul considered it very rude when his body informed him that both it and the outside world were present and requiring his attention. 

“Captain Scarlet, can you hear me? It’s Doctor Fawn.” 

The voice - the same voice as last time, he noted - was strangely tinny in his ear. ‘Eh?’ 

“You’re going to feel hands on your head, back, and shoulders, we’re going to help you sit up, okay?”

‘What? No!’ Scarlet tried to protest, to object, it wasn’t safe, it was too dangerous, but he just couldn’t get anything to obey him as hands touched him, supporting his weight as they pulled him upwards and put some sort of slanted board behind his back for him to rest on. He tried to jerk away, to get them out of danger, but nothing worked!  

“Heart rate’s skyrocketing!” 

“Sedatives?” 

“No, not yet!” A small hand touched his shoulder. “Scarlet, it’s me, it’s Fawn, listen to me, it’s safe, you’ve been out of cryo for a month now and nothing’s happened, there’s been a threat but nothing happened to you, you’re safe.” 

‘...what…’ 

A month? He’d been out of the nitrogen for a month? Paul stopped fighting as that sank in. At most he’d had days… then hours… then minutes as the Mysterons figured out how to snatch back control of his body with ever-increasing efficiency. But a month?! How?! 

“Scarlet, you’re going to feel my hands on your face, I need to take the mask off you. Please don’t bite me.” 

The familiarity of that last bit almost made him smile, but he didn’t dare to, instead holding himself still in almost breathless anticipation as the promised hands touched the sides of his head, finding and uncoupling some sort of buckle or latch behind his ears. Light leaked in around the edges as the blacked-out mask was first loosened, then it flooded in as it was removed. Paul hissed at that, hearing a ‘Sorry, sorry,’ as Fawn - who he’d have recognised as Edward’s daughter even if he hadn’t been told - turned to set it aside. 

Slowly the world came into focus around him. 

He was propped up in some sort of narrow bath or tank, waist-deep in a thick, grey goo. People were around him, machinery was beeping and humming, and while - very smartly - there was an autoturret tracking him, no one had any fear of coming close to him. 

“We finally located the ‘antenna’ that Mysterons build into their replicants,” Fawn explained as she came back into view, “and we removed it with nanotechnology. A regular dose of these,” she tapped the tank, “will give you a reserve to keep it ‘pruned’. As far as we can tell the only side effect is you’ll lose your ‘6th sense’, but from my understanding that was spotty anyway.” She smiled gently, so very pleased to be giving this news. “You’re free. You, and any other replicant we can capture. You were the key to figuring out how to free them too.”  

Free. 

It seemed almost too good to believe… but he’d been awake for a while now and there’d been no booming voice, no creeping cold grabbing him by the back of his neck and refusing to let go. 

He was free. 

“Th’nk y’…” Paul rasped out the sounds, too weak to do anything more than that. 

“You are very welcome,” Fawn replied. “Now, let’s get you out of this tank, cleaned up, dried off, and into a bed, how does that sound?” 

“G’d.” Paul let himself lie there as the team started doing what they needed to. It all sounded very, very good.

0o0o0

Some hours later and finally given some time alone after all the fussing to make sure he was, in fact, stable and going to stay that way, Paul was lying half-reclined in a private room and doing his best to get his head around the changes in, well, everything. Computers had become holographic screens projected up from a finger-thick disk the size of his palm, the autonurse was an unobtrusive doohicky built into the bed that didn’t need monitoring leads, and while science hadn’t yet found a replacement for ‘a tiny straw, a tube, and a bag’ for IV fluids - something he definitely needed and currently had plugged into his arm - his other arm had a line of different coloured ‘transdermal patches’ marching down it, each the size of a matchbox and giving him different controlled-release nutrients and other things to speed his recovery. No more nasogastric tubes required, which was such a relief.

Spectrum, he’d learned, had continued to go strong and while they hadn’t ended the War, they’d made some headway in containing the Mysterons, and he and the rest of ‘the first generation’ (and he was still figuring out how he felt about that) had become part of the mythology and traditions of the organisation. One example of this being the code names. If you made it to Cloudbase, you got a Cloudbase name (and he also wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet). His name hadn’t been passed on - he still carried it - nor was Black’s, but there had been five carriers of the name of Brown, and that…that did comfort him a little. Steve, he knew, would have been rather chuffed. As for Cloudbase herself, while she’d been completely gutted and retrofitted three times, the files in her archives were all there, and that was what he was after. 

“Come on!” Glaring at the projector resting on the meal table, Paul growled as the interface misread his shaky hand movements and took him back a few files and in the complete opposite direction to where he wanted to go! “Okay Metcalfe, try again.” A deep breath, his hands in his lap to reset himself, then Paul reached out again, each gesture slow and careful and deliberate. A tap, a swipe, a flick of fingers to scroll, a point to arrange the files in the format he liked, and Paul was looking at the archives of the messages his friends had left for him, all neatly laid out in a grid with code names and times and file types and size and all sorts of other information he didn’t need right now.

It was probably machochism, but Paul manipulated the settings and ordered them from oldest to newest. So much time had passed… he had to know.

The files marched along the screen like irregular mile-markers in time. His birthday always had a cluster of updates around it, as did Christmas and Spectrum’s founding, with a number of files in between those dates.

Colonel White’s list ended first. 

It was completely unexpected and hit him like a punch to the gut. He had to look away from the screen to compose himself. Somehow the Old Man had settled in his head as this immovable object, a constant, something that had to be eroded away by the wind and waves, not taken out only five years after he went on ice.

‘Later,’ he promised himself to fend off the questions of how and why and what happened that crowded in, begging to be answered. ‘I’ll look it up later… I have to get through this first.’ 

Digital milestones became digital tombstones as he worked his way through the years. 

Melody. 

Juniper.

Dad.

Grey.

Ochre. 

Mum.

Harmony. 

Destiny. 

Green. 

Magenta. 

Fawn. 

Symphony. 

Rhapsody.  Blue.

… three weeks ago. 

Paul sat up straight. 

That file was dated three weeks ago. 

The autonurse in his bed started making unhappy noises but he ignored it as he read the numbers for a second and third time, then he fumbled his way back through the computer programs to check it against the calendar, needing to be absolutely certain that his eyes weren’t deceiving him, that hope wasn’t preparing to betray him once again. A breathless moment when he confirmed it, a quick count on his fingers just to be sure, then he scrambled for the comms function on the projector. “Scarlet to Central Control!”

A warm male voice answered him immediately. “Central Control, go ahead.” 

“Captain Blue, I need you to put me in touch with Captain Blue now!” 

“Captain Blue is on a mission but-” 

“No! Not your Blue, my Blue, Adam Svenson, I need you to get me on the phone with him RIGHT NOW.” 

“But it’s…!” 

“I don’t care and neither will he! Get me on the phone with him NOW.” 

“S.I.G.” 

It felt like hours as whoever was up there did whatever they had to do, then the projector beeped. Scarlet tapped the appropriate icon, there was a pause as different connections were made and secured, then the image finally coalesced over the projector. 

An elderly man wrapped in a warm checked robe was looking back at him, studying him closely. His hair was down to wisps of white, and his blue eyes were filmy but still bright with intelligence. “...you’re back.” 

Paul knew he had tears running down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. “Yes, I’m back. I’m so sorry it took me so long.” 

Adam waved him off, blinking away his own tears. “Don’t be. You’re back, that’s all that matters.” He smiled with genuine warmth. “Settle in, pal, you and me have a lot of catching up to do.” 

“Blue!” 

Scarlet lunged over a toppled filing cabinet and crouched beside the fallen pegasus, half sprawled on his belly with his eyes closed and a sluggishly bleeding cut over his right brow . “Blue!” He shook the pony’s shoulder, then when nothing happened he held his hand just over Blue’s muzzle and waited, heart in his throat.

Warm air moved his fur, and the relief was immediate. 

“Okay, breathing, unconscious…” he quickly swept his hands over Blue’s body, paying special attention to his neck and back, “...no big bleeds, nothing obviously broken. We’ll sort out why later, right now we have to get you out of here.” 

Between the debris on the floor and the urgency of the situation, over his shoulders was the only way to get the other pony out. Wings made that difficult as a default, but Blue had wings that were both long and broad. “And I don’t have a wing strap on me,” Scarlet frowned. “Sorry about this, but we need to move.” He pulled his tail in, unpicked the knot that held the end of the wrap closed, and started to undo it. 

Typically, moving a pegasus or alicorn who couldn’t keep their wings folded meant folding their wings for them and using a wing strap, a broad, soft, elastic strap that went around their chest and wings to keep them tucked and contained. Without a strap it was so much more difficult, hence improvising with the tail wrap. Scarlet had worn one even before joining the military - with a tail as long as his, having a thick wrap had kept it from being broken more than once by careless hooves or rapidly closing doors - and it meant he had just over a meter of fabric to use. It wouldn’t be enough to go around Blue’s chest as well as his wings, but he had a work around for that.

Moving as quickly as he could, Scarlet threaded the wrap through the open back of Blue’s tunic so it came out the arm holes, then folded Blue’s wings and brought the ends of the strap over them. He tied them down as tightly as he dared, wincing as he did so as feathers bent and plumes split, but it couldn’t be helped. 

That done, it was so much easier to roll Blue onto his back, then grab his arm and haul him up and over his shoulders in a firefighter’s carry.