Put That Kid Down

Chapter Eighteen

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Max pushed David over onto his back. A fresh spurt of red blood spilled over the layers down into dried brown, weakly, and Max yanked his hands back before mastering the panic to act. Taking his hoodie off, he pressed it to the wound and tried to remember what David and Gwen had taught them during first aid and emergency response camp. He kept drawing a blank. All he could remember was David's face when the CPR dummies had fallen on him and how Nikki had laughed so hard she'd fallen to the ground and taken Neil with her. Fuck, that was useless.

Plus, David had been bleeding out for... A half hour? An hour? Probably closer to an hour than not. It was a miracle he'd been alive, much less conscious this long. Fucking unnatural-

Almost like magic.

"That magical bitch," Max breathed. Sure, David seemed oblivious to the implications of Harrison's physics-breaking 'tricks' and Neil may have given up on understanding them, but Max had first hand experience with Harrison's fucking OP spells. If there was anyone that could pull this rabbit out of the hat intact, it would be... well, the kid who couldn't pull the rabbit back out of the hat.

Bad analogy, Harrison was still working on bringing things back. But hadn't Neil said they faked Nikki's death? Or somehow healed her from the shit Neil had forced down her throat? Max's mind raced with the possibilities and tried to keep hope out of the pragmatism.

The magic kid duo wasn't even hard to find- currently they were placidly correcting one another's plastic fork placement, re-setting the table the other had finished with the fork on the other side. Max scrambled to his feet and lurched across the distance between them.

"Harrison, I'm going to wake you the fuck up," he announced aloud, but found himself momentarily distracted by the feeling of blood dripping down his face. Right. Daniel had died on him and Max was still bleeding from the cut in his cheek, himself. He grabbed a handful of napkins from the table and wiped furiously at his face, ignoring the burning pain of pressing rough paper into and across the wound. God, he hoped Daniel had been too busy sacrificing people to fuck around and catch an STD or something. That would just be the chlamydia cherry on top of the shit pile. He didn't really want to think too deeply on Daniel's blood in his blood or anything about the death, at all, though. Holding a clean napkin to his cut, Max took Harrison's arm with his free hand, turning the magician towards him. Said illusionist smiled dreamily at him.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time," Max informed him before he hauled back and punched Harrison in the face. Pain was a pretty strong feeling to fight the haziness of their brainwashed state.

Plus, Max just really felt Harrison's face was fertile dirt begging for someone to plant a fresh fist.

"Ow," Harrison said dazedly, managing a weak smile.

Okay, that didn't work.

Still felt good.

David didn't really have time for failure, though. Alright. Emotions stronger than pain. Stronger than pain. Think, Max, think, goddammit. If there was anyone that could throw off the mind control, it was the resident illusionist and his eldritch powers. Max just needed to find the right way to push.

"Bet your dinky little magic can't heal people," Max taunted, but Harrison just shrugged at him as he stood.

"I can," he denied easily, voice as hazy as it had been since he stepped out of the sauna.

"Prove it," Max challenged, stepping forward slightly.

"Not really interested. We need to prepare for the Ascension, Max." Harrison accepted the wet towel Nerris produced from somewhere and held it to his own cheek, absently adding, "Thanks, Nerris."