Some Rescue (pre-dated to Sunday afternoon, 4 pm)

[abetterlie]

By the time Angel called them via radio to tell them there had been a short, abrupt phonecall from Cordelia, Connor and Phillip had followed the trace left by Harry and Cordelia for days, and it grown ever more recent. By now, they were at the bottom of the Ozark mountains. Angel said he had heard motion in the background, and Cordelia had definitely been panicked, so Connor decided to speed up as fast as he could, leaving Phillip to bring in the rear.

The first thing he found, about five minutes later, still within the woods but with a few buildings in the far distance, were two decapitated bodies, a woman and a man, bleeding yellow blood. Even more importantly, he found a man with a shot gun and a very sharp machete, covered in blood which wasn't yellow at all. He recognized the smell, at once. Harry's and Cordelia's both.

By the time Phillip caught up with him, there were three decapitated bodies. "They made it to the town," Connor said shortly, and started running again.

It was barely a town. One road in, one out, a bar, a tiny grocery store, a tiny motel. The fact both Harry and Cordelia were bleeding made it even easier to trace them. Their scent led all the way to the motel, which had a payphone outside, the one Cordelia must have used. Except that wasn't where they were. They were inside the motel, together with five, no, six men, who by the sounds of it were either forming a lynching party or intending a gang rape. They also smelled utterly and entirely human. No yellow blood there.

Connor was past caring. He went for disabling as fast as he could. Two of the men caught on quick enough to try and shoot the new arrival with the motel clerk's weapon, only to find themselves bereft of wrists and kneecaps by Phillip, who had entered with his own gun in hand, given the three bodies on the outskirts.

Which left Harry and Cordelia, clothing torn to shreds, Harry bleeding from his arm, both armed with a pitchfork and a shotgun. Which they pointed in Connor's and Philipp's direction. The look in their eyes was utterly and completley crazy.

"You think we're gonna fall for that?" Cordy yelled. "Back off, shapeshifting demons!"

Comments

[osborn-heir.livejournal.com]

Oh they are crazy alright. They are crazy and paranoid and have hit the place where they only trust each other. How ironic considering they hate each other. It's been a long few days.

They managed to kill the son and the wife, but not before leaving enough of their blood at the scene to have the husband covered in it along with his family's blood. They made it to the town, reaching the pay phone so Cordy could play a call to Connor's cell, but then Angel's because Connor didn't answer. She managed to give the location before they were surrounded by locals.

"They were are pretty, even all mucked up and covered in god knows what. Been awhile since we had pretty strangers come through."

"They probably aren't human. Look at the yellow blood from his arm and her face. I bet they are the ones who keep dragging people off."

Two guys speaking for the group and Cordy manages to let out enough of a notice that Angel realizes they are in trouble.

If it was one or two guys, the duo would have fought them off, but they are tired, crazy, injured, and overpowered. So much for their great escape and rescue of themselves.

They're shoved into the back of the motel and surrounded, Cordy has the pitchfork now and Harry has the shotgun and they are ready to take anyone down who gets too close. But then there is gun fire, causing both Cordy and Harry to shake and wince because they have both been shot. Him in the arm, her in the right thigh. But it's someone who looks like Phillip and Connor who have come to their rescue. Isn't that amazing? Except Harry doesn't believe in miracles anymore.

Cordy says exactly what he's thinking and he has the shotgun aimed at Connor's chest as he steps in front of Cordy in a one last ditch effort to try and protect her. She's all he has now and they can't have her. God he will want that mindwipe later.

"Back off. We won the hunt fair and square and I don't care if your fucking heads grew back and you became the people would normally trust, we'll decapitate you again. Back. Off."

"Hey kid, it's okay," Phillip says in a gentle voice. "Come on, I wouldn't hurt you. I want to dance with Cordy in Greece again and finish up those flying lessons with you, yeah?"

[queen-c-tm.livejournal.com]

Ooooh, they're clever shapeshifting demons, too. They've probably got some kind of psychic abilities so they can read their victim's minds and screw with them even MORE.

Cordelia holds out the pitchfork menacingly, aiming at the one that's trying to look like Connor. She is so over all of this. She's hurt and tired and dirty again and she's getting REALLY sick of everyone wanting to kill her.

"We're done playing your sick games, okay? You messed with the wrong people today. I've killed worse demons than you, so just get the hell out of here before I seriously lose it."

The pitchfork gets jabbed towards him again, and she makes a sound very much like a wild animal's growl. There's a very good chance that she seriously lost it hours ago.

[abetterlie.livejournal.com]

"It's me," says Connor, who might have experience in fighting everybody and their pet demon, but definitely not in calming people over the edge down, and wouldn't be anyone's idea of a councillor anyway. So he tries to think of proof that will convince Harry and Cordy both and comes up with... let's just say poor Philipp is learning more today than he ever wanted to know.

"Look, Cordy, we tracked you down, and then Angel radiod us. You're safe now! Harry, the first time we had sex the biggest problem were the fact I couldn't get rid of my shoes and your kneecaps were still not healed and Cordy, you hog the covers and you have a tattoo on your back, and when there was fire reigning from the sky you said you wanted to give me something real, and if I was a shapeshifting demon, I wouldn't take my shape but Bruce Wayne's because both of you think he's this side of God, so believe me, okay? It's me! And Philipp! You're safe!"

[osborn-heir.livejournal.com]

Harry growls too, but he listens to what this Connor shaped demon is trying to say. He knows details. Intimate details and Harry doesn't know much about telepathy. He figures unless he was thinking things they wouldn't know the intimate stuff. Still...he hesitates.

"Kid, when you broke your arm when you were fifteen I was the one who hauled you down to the hospital despite your protests that your private doctor could make a house call. The first time you got drunk, you puked on Bernard's shoes and I laughed so hard that he didn't speak to both of us for a week. Cordy, I was the first to introduce you to ouzo."

Harry looks at Cordy, unsure if they could trust them, but then he pokes Connor hard in the chest with the gun and says in a low growly tone, "Show me your left hand."

He sees the ring, the ring he picked out, and he doesn't think that a shape shifting demon could pull that much detail off.

"I think it may be them...I don't know." He glares as he thinks about the vision she had. "Cut him and see if he bleeds yellow."

[queen-c-tm.livejournal.com]

Demon or not, some of those details really weren't anything Cordelia wanted to know. Ever. Add it to the mindwipe later, if they survive this.

Harry's plan, however, sounds logical enough to her. If they're the demons from the mountains, then they won't bleed red. And if they are... well, cutting one will probably just piss it off, but at this point, if they're demons, she and Harry are pretty much screwed six ways to Sunday, so what the hell.

They lost the machete back in the crazy mother's neck, which leaves Harry's knife as their only blade. She could try stabbing one of them with the pitchfork, but it's unwieldy and she might accidentally damage them more than she intends. Plus, it's still all sticky with demon blood and guts, and if they're human, she doesn't want to risk infecting them with some nasty demon disease.

See, she isn't completely irrational yet!

"All right," she says to Harry, still keeping her attention focused on the possible demons. "I'm going to get your knife, so don't freak out."

That said, she reaches over and into his jeans pocket to retrieve the pocket knife. After everything they've been through, so doesn't think twice about doing it. She can get squicked about it later, bur right now, she's on a mission.

Who to cut? Connor heals faster, so if they aren't demons, he's probably the best choice. And he'd be more likely to forgive her for it, she hopes.

She lips open the blade and lowers the pitchfork so she can move in closer, trusting Harry to keep them in check with the gun.

"Just... don't move," she tells the Connor-demon, then slashes quickly at his arm, doing her best not to cut too deeply, just in case. The blood wells up very red and she looks over at Harry, still not sure.

"Not yellow."

[abetterlie.livejournal.com]

Being cut is actually something Connor can handle far better than having to be soothing. And he's had far worse things done to him by both friend and foe (see also: getting beaten into a pulp by Angel when Angel needed to cover everyone's escape from Jasmine, and the occasional disciplinary measure in home sweet Quortoth because a toddler needs a while before he understands he really needs to obey Father literaly and completely). So he doesn't move and holds still when Cordy slashes into his arm. He hopes they won't insist on trying this one on Philipp as well, though. For starters, Philipp doesn't heal at top speed.

"You once told me other teenage boys check for pimples," he says to Cordelia. "When I checked whether I had a demonic face in the mirror."

Then he turns to Harry.

"Can Phillip use his radio to tell Angel we found you? Or do you want more proof? Do you want to taste my blood as well? Because you did, once. On Halloween. You know what it is like."

Yes, still with the too much information. At this rate, everyone will want to have a mindwipe.

[osborn-heir.livejournal.com]

He doesn't flinch when she reaches into his pocket. They will have to snark each other extra hard when this is all over.

"Harold Michael Osborn," Phillip says and this is only the second time that Harry can remember him being full named by his long time employee. "Blood play? You know how dangerous that is, kid. All the safe sex in the world won't protect you if you're doing crazy crap like that."

The information about Halloween, the use of his middle name, and the fact there is no yellow blood is enough for Harry to snap out of it slightly. His shoulders sag a bit as he sinks to the floor of the room they are in, exhaustion finally hitting him completely.

"Yeah, call Angel. Have him tell Kara, Bruce, Lex and everyone. Get us out of here, please. They were going to offer us back to the guy in the woods. They give human sacrifices to keep the demons from taking them all out. Cordy had a vision. They..it's been a..."

He can't even explain. He looks up at Cordelia and says, "Guess you wants dibs on having him patch you up with the first aid kit first, eh princess?"

[queen-c-tm.livejournal.com]

Once Harry gives in, Cordelia lets her guard down as well. She's completely worn out, both mentally and physically, and now that she's not in attack mode, she's reminded of how much pain her leg is in.

She lets go of both knife and pitchfork and sits down heavily beside Harry, her injured leg refusing to hold her anymore.

"Thank god," she sighs, and drops her head into her hands, oblivious to the fact that she's just spread yellow demon blood all in her hair. "I didn't think I could take any more of the oversharing. And someone needs to do something about the people here. They've been feeding tourists to the demons in the mountains. We killed two of them, but there might be more."

Once that's said, she figures she's done with her champion duty and lifts her head again to look at Connor and Philip.

"Is there any chance we can get some new clothes before we get out of here? I don't know what all this demon blood is going to do to us, and I can't stand to wear that woman's underwear any longer!"

[abetterlie.livejournal.com]

Philipp, who heard more than he ever wanted to know, is already on the radio to Angel, requesting the cavalry, while Connor gets the rucksack with the first aid kit and food of his back.

She has a point regarding the townsfolk; those he took out and those Philipp shot dragged themselves away. He could go out and kill them, of course; but for one thing, he doesn't want to let Harry and Cordelia out of his sight, now that he's found them again, not until they're far away from here, and for another, a part of him is aware that they are human and that, given he and Philipp witnessed the assault on Harry and Cordy, the police has enough grounds to lock them up. Still, first things first.

There is an automatic drink dispenser standing in the corner. He kicks it and tears the cans with mineral water out. Harry is the one with the shot gun wound still bleeding, so his arm gets cleaned up and doctored first.

"The guy in the woods is dead," says Connor, assuming they're meaning the man smelling of their blood whom he has decapitated with his own machete. "And don't worry about the others. They'll - be dealt with."

Meanwhile, Phillip has finished talking to Angel and starts his own first aid operation on Cordelia. At a later point, it will occur to the Pilot this is probably the one and only time he'll get that close. Figures she'd be covered in blood and slime then. But right now, he's occupied with helping.

"No new clothes, sorry," says Connor.

This is Connor. Would he have thought of something as obvious as bringing new wardrobe with him, for both fashionable parties?

"We've got something for you to eat and drink till the cavalry arrives, though. I - if you like, I can go through the rooms here and check whether there is something in any of the cupboards," he ends a bit helplessly. "Or Phillip could, because one of us should stand guard."

Only now does the overwhelming relief start to dawn on him, the full extent of the miracle. They're here. They're alive. Both.

[osborn-heir.livejournal.com]

"No!" Harry shouts as soon as food is suggested. No fucking way are they eating anything. He's not even wanting to touch the water.

"No food. Not until we're back on the jet. Just no, no food. Don't ask."

He looks over at Phillip who is patching up Cordy's gunshot wound on her thigh. They will be okay. They just need to get out of here.

"Fuck the clothes. I don't care." Yep. He's lot it. Completely. "Just get us out of here. Back on the jet. Come back and decapitate everyone in town. Burn the place down. Burn the woods down. Can I buy the mountains and burn them down?"

He's not sure if he can, but he wants too.

Just don't ask for details, guys, because they won't want to share them. He reaches up and touches Connor's face briefly before dropping his hand and rocking his head against the wall. He just wants to go home.

[queen-c-tm.livejournal.com]

As much as she wants out of these clothes, Harry has a point about getting to the jet and getting the hell out of here.

And that will be the last time she agrees with him so readily. Now that the mortal peril is over with, whatever unspoken agreement they had between them to be relatively civil to one another is over.

"Thanks," she says to Philip as he finishes patching up her leg. Luckily, the bullet only grazed her thigh, so it may not even need stitches. "Let's just burn the whole state down," she adds to Harry. It's not like anyone really needs Arkansas, right?

"And fine, forget the clothes for now. Just get us out of here so I can get a hot shower and a bed I can sleep in for a week."

[abetterlie.livejournal.com]

If you've been through hell, you're not in a sharing mood, so Connor, who's familiar with that state, doesn't expect any details. Burning the town down sounds more than good if he thinks about what the inhabitants he saw were about to do to Harry and Cordelia, but unfortunately, the FBI agents and cops Angel must have notified might take that as a reason to lock him up. And he's not going back to prison. Harry needs him. He thinks.

"Got it," he says, gets up after finishing the first aide patching up of Harry and briefly touches the bare skin between Harry's shoulder and neck to reassure himself of the reality of this. Because you know, it could be a dream. A day dream about rescuing them. He hasn't slept much since Tuesday.

Connor walks to the motel entrance, mostly to check whether the townspeople have rallied anew, when he hears the sound of a helicopter approaching. He looks up, but it's still just a black spot in the distance. Still, whether it's the FBI or the local law enforcement, they must have been sent by Angel, and he's fiercely grateful to his father, and to Philipp for having had the idea about a radio central.

"Can you two walk?" he asks Cordelia and Harry. "Because I think transport is nearly here."

[osborn-heir.livejournal.com]

"Oh yeah, we're pros at walking now," He says in an exhausted voice. He gets to his feet and sees that Phillip is offering Cordelia a hand because of her leg.

He's so tired and emotionally drained. They have been going non-stop so he isn't sure he wants to stop now. Because stopping means processing and processing isn't very appealing.

Could they get a group rate on mindwipes? That would be great. The pain is bad and he's starting to realize he hurts all over. But he got this far, with Cordy's help no less, so he's not about to complain now.

"Thanks for the rescue," he manages to say to both of them, but while he doesn't mention her by name he figures it's understood that a big part of it was to her. But he won't clarify that cause seriously what the hell were they thinking about being nice to each other? That was just disturbing.

[queen-c-tm.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Cordelia agrees as Phillip helps her stand. "Thanks." Like Harry, part of that is meant for him. Just don't expect her to say so out loud.

She's not real anxious to start thinking about what they've been through, either. But she does want to sleep, and hopefully she's tired enough that there won't be any nightmares right away. They've been lost in the mountains for almost a week now, and neither ever got much sleep - unless you count being drugged.

They leave the motel in silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts, to find a helicopter landing out on the street. Cordelia groans at the sight, still not sure she's all that anxious to get back into any kind of small aircraft.

"That thing's safe, right?" she asks, but they're already being led to it, and really, she'd rather take her chances there with Connor and Philip (and yes, even Harry) than stay behind with the psycho town. The faster they get out of Arkansas, the better.

[abetterlie.livejournal.com]

The police says something about statements, and Connor replies that he and Mr. Santini watched Ms Chase and Mr. Osborn being attacked by the local townspeople who appear to have some kind of ritual serial killing cult going on, end of statement. Anything more would have to wait until they were all rested. Next day at the earliest. Then he doesn't reply to any further questions, and neither do Harry or Cordelia.

He listens to the sound of the helicopter taking of, and then he just concentrates on Harry's and Cordy's breathing. Not so easy to hear with the helicopter, but he thinks he manages. In, out. In, out. Alive.

It makes him feal that finally, he can breathe again himself.