Chapter Text
Rowan had one of Mín’s arms thrown over his shoulder and supporting him on his other side was Kit, cane in hand. The crash had jolted the taller boys bad leg and he could feel him wincing at every step they thudded down the hallway but they couldn't stop or slow down or anything else because they had to run, they had to get away-
Behind them they could hear shouts and loud clanging sounds of metal. That girl was yelling and so was Lisa and Angelo and Ashley and he kind of wanted to cry but Ross had shoved the three of them out the door and he was on the floor and he wasn't getting up and Mikhail was bleeding-
Rowan angrily wiped away the tears in his eyes with his sleeve as he reached for the railing to start pulling the three of them up the stairs. He fucking hated crying. Fuck.
They were several halls away when Rowan suddenly realised that he had no idea where they were going and looked back to see the other two were just following him blindly. Shit.
Rowan risked ducking into a room at the end of the hall, only to find it empty. It appeared to be some kind of computer room with corridors of metal desks filled with controls and displays. Electrical cupboards lined the wall down the other end.
Stepping into the room properly revealed a set of wide windows next to the door that looked out into the waves below. He gestured the others in, whispering “Maybe we can hide in here? Wait till Owen or someone comes to get us. Dax said he's looking, right?”
Kit frowned “I don't… Didn't he come already? I though I saw him?”
“What? Where?”
Mín spoke haltingly, “In the room- we before- he was- when Ross-”
“Yeah where did he go?”
“What? He was? I didn't-” Rowan was so confused, he's pretty sure he would have seen Owen or even just heard him but there was nothing except the strange girl and her entourage. “Wait, was that girl Catherine?”
“Yes! How do you not - oh. That's right, you weren't there-”
“I thought she was blonde! Like Luke and Gideon!”
“What? No? Why would she be blonde?”
“Because, you know, Triplets?”
“What?” said Mín at the same time as Kit said “No, they're fraternal.”
Rowan shook his head as though to clear the conversation, “Anyway, that's not what I- she can copy powers, right? She stole everyone at Tregarren powers, so she can use illusions. That's why I never saw Owen, cus it weren't real.”
“So he's not coming?” asked Mín.
The three of them were quiet for a moment before Rowan broke it softly.
“I don't know.”
It was silent for a while after that.
Then -
“We can't stay here.”
They looked at Kit, “Where else would we go? We're on a boat.”
Mín looked to the side, “Lifeboats. Julían says there's got to be lifeboats here.”
“Can he take us to them?”
Mín was silent as he talked to Julían for a second before he sighed. “He doesn't know where they are and he can't really go too far from me or he starts to forget, being on a boat is hard enough - constant movement and large bodies of water make it hard to concentrate on staying near me.”
“I can go find out where they are-”
“What! No! That's stupid I'm way faster!”
“I can blend in, sneak around-”
“A ship's cat-”
“Guys-
“I can fight better than you-”
“Exactly! Which is why you should stay with Mín-”
“No!! You should-”
“GUYS SHUT UP!” Yelled Mín, he glared at them. “I'm not helpless!”
They shuffled sheepishly.
“Right.”
“Sorry.”
“Besides,” He sighed heavily, “Rowan's right. He'll be a lot quieter and faster if he goes out as a cat. We don't want anyone to know we're leaving until we're at least halfway out in the boat.”
Kit grumbled a little and crossed his arms. “I don't like it.”
Rowan snorted, “I'd be worried if you did.”
“How are we getting everyone else to the lifeboat?”
Benjamín shared a look with Rowan.
“We're not.”
“What?!”
“We can't.”
“Why not?! Fuck you I'm going to get them-”
“Sit the fuck down. No. We can't. I want to get them as much as you but-”
“Ross told me to get you guys off the ship. He said to go and not look back.” said Rowan, “So that's what we're going to do.”
Kit looked like he was going to explode so Benjamín sent Rowan a meaningful glance and he immediately was heading out the door, shutting it behind him and shrinking down to all floors.
As he padded down the hall he heard their low murmuring as Mín comforted Kit gently. They're going to wait. They're going to send out a message, they're not going to just leave them all behind. But they can't afford the risks. Ross wouldn't want them to.
He's going to be okay. He has to.
§§§
The storm had picked up, the top deck was being buffeted by a strong wind that he had to fight against just to stay grounded. He made the risk to shift back to human, for the weight that form provided and no one around took any notice of it at all.
Being up on the deck allowed him to see what the twins had run them into - the leg of an oil rig. The tiny shapes of people on the creaking metal behemoth up above were crowding around the edges to peer at them down below.
A helicopter was sitting in the middle of the deck and Rowan made sure to avoid it and any of the black-clad people near it - surely they were here with those people who hit Ross and Mikhail.
Finding the boats was easy. Getting there all together might be easier than he'd initially thought too - everyone was panicking and running about so much they probably would ignore their little group entirely. Not that the average crew member should know about them in the first place.
When he turned to go back he was sent sprawling across the deck by a huge wall of water that shook the boat hard. It created a towering shadow behind him as he scrambled across the floor. In a blink he was small and furry again, paws pounding against the metal as he streaked back inside.
He'd only been gone a couple minutes but the anxiety was clawing at his chest - he needed to get back. They needed to leave as soon as possible.
§§§
Something made him pause as he came up the stairs. The air was, wrong, somehow. Too still, too quiet.
The Deer is screaming danger danger danger in the back of his mind, the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end as a cold draft blew across him. That's not right, he thought, there's no opening here. The air is supposed to be still and stale.
He crept down the hall as quietly as possible. If this was a horror movie this would be the part Rowan would be begging the characters to turn back and just go. But he needs to get his friends. He needs to.
Rowan put his hand on the door and opened it slowly, silently begging it not to creak as he widened the aperture to see inside.
There was a girl and her hand was gripping Mín’s arm. It was the scary girl from the container. The one they were all relieved to see until she put her hands on Gideon and Luke and they dropped like stones. The roof was a gaping hole, peeled off like the lid of a sardine can.
Mín was pale and limp, he tried to push her off but her grip was too strong and he was too weak. When he spoke the words came out slow and slurred between heavy pants for breath. Rowan couldn't even see Kit.
He didn't have time to think, he just needed a weapon; He cast around for the nearest object. Carefully unhooking a fire extinguisher from the wall, Rowan crept his way across the room. The extinguisher is heavy in his hands but his feet are quiet and his breath in shallow. He knows how to hunt something.
He's never done it as human though, a cat is designed to be stealthy, with silent footsteps and precise control over their bodies - Humans, however, are awkward and clumsy and Rowan's shoe squeaks as he takes another slow step forewards.
The girl freezes.
Then she's turning and Rowan is rushing at her, extinguisher raised above his head like a bat and he swings-
But his hand was empty and her face was twisted in fury.
He had just enough time to think:
‘Oh fuck’
Before his back was hitting something hard and then he was outside and falling and there's a sharp pain in his neck and glittering rain is falling all around him.
And.
Oh shit.
He's falling.
He's falling and down there's the sea and at high enough distances falling into water is the same as hitting concrete and he can't swim and the waves are huge and his neck is wet and he can't breathe and he really wants to stab Catherine what did she do to Mín and where's Kit and he wants to see her head on a pike but most of all he wants to not hit the water and he needs to get away he needs to go he needs to fly-
And then he was small and feathery and there was wind under his arm-wings and he turned like a shot plane towards the rig.
He hit metal, hard. If he had breath in his lungs it would have been knocked out of him.
Then his grip on the small and feathers falters. The fly and sing and impale slipped out his finger-claws and he was a boy again.
§§§§§
The north sea was churning below him, a great gaping maw of cold and wet and death. It wasn't raining yet but the metal grating was slick beneath his feet from spray and mists alone.
Cathy was here somewhere. He needed to find her, stop her, kill her.
A crash, a spray of glittering glass, a streak of blue and orange and black. He would have cried out if he weren't used to sudden loud noises.
The form plummeted towards the water before vanishing. Ilya stared. Who was that? Where did they go?
Something small and grey thumped onto the floor nearby. He could make out pale wings and a dark head and a splash of bright red and pink at the neck and chest before his eyes refocused and instead it was Rowan laying there, clutching his neck, gasping as the red seeped through his fingers, staining the blue of his hoodie.
He stared in shock at him. He doesn't remember running to him or falling to his knees next to him. He doesn't remember the frantic words that tumble out his mouth.
What he does remember is kneeling next to Rowan's head with his fingers on his neck. Ilya remembers how he held the wound shut and brought the heat to his finger tips. They glowed red, then white as Rowan began to scream around the blood bubbling and spitting from the wound.
The moment stretched on for forever.
When he stopped the boy's throat was a blackened and congealed mess of burned skin. But it was whole.
Rowan coughed violently and Ilya feared the wound would reopen but it held.
Ilya stood. He gazed down at the boy as he wheezed helplessly on the floor. His face was pale and streaked with tears.
He wasn't bleeding anymore.
His breathing was weak but stable.
He'll be fine.
He looked up at the ceiling.
Somewhere up there is Catherine.
He turned and walked out the door and started the steady climb up the ladder.
There's some kind of commotion happening up there and he needs to stop her.
He emerges from a stairway next to a thick iron door that has been thrown open. He hides behind it and watches through the porthole window.
Across the deck he can see the crumpled form of Dax lying against the wall, his arms twisted in angles that don't look right.
Cathy is dancing and cheering and next to her is Mia. She holds out her hand. Every part of Ilya is screaming but he can't move. Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it.
Mia takes it with a gentle smile.
Despair washes over him. Something inside him cracks and breaks, crumbling down into the dark sea.
It's like he can see the energy being drawn out of her, like she's wilting in front of his eyes. But Mia’s spine is like iron, she stands up straight. She's taller than Cathy he realises. It's comforting somehow.
He can feel the heat building up in Mia, running down her arms, rushing into Catherine who greedily takes it, who eagerly hoards every piece of it like she always has. Like she does everything.
Then she's screaming. His girlfriend is screaming and she's on fire and she's a twisted black bird and flying and she's screaming and screaming and screaming. Ilya just wants her to stop.
He reaches out with his own fire and piles on top of Mia’s, stokes it, let's it build and grow until-
There's a feeling like his ears had popped and then there was a boom and through the ringing in his ears he realised that she was dead. Catherine was well and truly gone.
He didn't feel any different. Maybe kinda distant from everything, like he's watching it all through glass.
What does he do now?
§§§§§
Rowan stares at the ceiling and tries to remember how breathing works. Each breath scrapes it's way down his throat like sandpaper. It sounds horrible. It feels worse.
Ilya was here. His hands were hot burning fire on his neck and now, now he's gone and Rowan can't see him and where did he go but it's still so hot hot hot ow. When he moves, and he really tries not to, there's boiling lances of pain that stab through him and he can feel a sticky solid plate like some sort of chitinous shell moving around and digging into the inflamed skin around the wound.
The inside of his throat feels sticky and his mouth tastes like iron and cooked meat. He listens to the howling of the wind and the crashing of the waves, ears straining to hear the rasp-wheeze of his own breath.
Suddenly there's an explosion above him and he flinches hard and ow ow owowow.
There's a panic to his breathing now but after a - minute? Maybe more maybe less - he can't tell - he manages to wrestle back some control and force a slow but steady in and out. Wheeze, Rasp, Wheeze, Rasp. Maybe he'll have to wear something like Darth Vader. That would be kinda cool, maybe. It would also suck, he doesn't want to be Darth Vader.
At some point it started raining. The water falls on him like a death knell and he starts shivering, each tremor that racked his body sending shards of pain through him. It drummed against the metal in pounding sheets, drowning out everything else. Underneath it all he can hear the faint cry of some otherworldly creature. It sounds so heartbroken that Rowan feels grief of his own well up in sympathy.
Maybe it's crying for him.
Is he dying?
Is that why Ilya left?
He loses time.
He doesn't know how long it's been when suddenly he's aware that something is different. There's something happening, he can't - can't - Is there someone there? He can't see. Is the rain different? Somehow?
There's a hand on his neck and a dark head of hair in front of him and suddenly it was a little easier to breathe and his throat was only throbbing in pain, instead of the burning ache before.
Before he even registered the action he was smacking the hands away.
“Mi-” his voice cuts out around the knives in his throat.
‘Stop. I'll be fine. Please.’
Mia, because of course it's Mia, just smiles at him. He's gonna be okay. He's safe now. He floats.