United [A Superhero AU] - Book Two

Chapter Forty-One - Unexpected Halt in Plans

"Mark, you should head to bed. We have another meeting tomorrow and I don't want you to be exhausted," Matthias says, glancing at the hero sitting on the couch as he moves towards his room.

Mark looks over at him with a small shrug. "I will eventually. I'm just gonna finish this episode."

"Okay." Matthias sends him another wary glance before walking down the hallway to his room.

Mark watches him go before returning his gaze to the TV, which has some show he doesn't care about on. In all seriousness, he won't sleep tonight. At most, he'll doze off on the couch for ten minutes at a time and shake himself awake to avoid the inevitable nightmares. He doesn't trust himself to fall asleep when Jack isn't here. He's been a small shield to hold back the majority of Mark's nightmares, but it's been a long time since he wasn't home at all for the night. The hero doesn't know what will happen if he falls asleep without him, and he's scared of that.

His late night pondering is interrupted when the door of the base squeaks open, followed by shuffling, uneven footsteps. Mark glances over just in time to see Hudson enter, laughing weakly and clutching a bloody wound in his shoulder.

Mark bolts to his feet, his mouth falling open. "What are you doing here? What happened!?"

"I didn't think anyone was out," he says, his chuckle filled with underlying pain. He winces slightly, falling against the doorframe. "Turns out I was wrong. I guess that's the point of patrol, huh?"

"Why did you come here?" Mark asks as he helps the Canadian over to the couch. He falls onto the cushions, a cough ravaging his chest.

"It was closer than our base and I'm not too keen on dying from like, blood loss or something dumb like that." A light grin graces his face for a moment. "You know, I never thought getting shot would hurt that much. It kinda sucks. Those pro-NAI guys have good aim."

"No kidding," Mark says. He presses a cloth to Hudson's shoulder, which almost instantly turns crimson. "Hold this here while I get Phil. Stay awake, okay?"

"For sure," he murmurs, putting his hands where Mark guides them.

The hero gets up and races down the hallway, barging into Phil's room without so much as a knock. The Brit jerks awake, staring through the darkness at Mark.

"Hudson got shot," he states with as much urgency as possible. "You gotta help him."

Without another word, Phil leaps out of bed and drags Mark down the hallway. Back in the living room, Hudson lies on the couch, breathing heavily and appearing more pale than before. His hands remain clutched on his shoulder, his brown eyes distant.

"I'm gonna die," he gasps, his gaze locking onto Phil and Mark when they enter. "I'm gonna die."

"No, you're not," Phil replies. He kneels next to the boy, maintaining eye contact. "I have to get the bullet out, but then I can heal you to near completion, okay?"

"Okay," Hudson replies, his breathing growing more panicked as Phil begins working. "I don't wanna die. I need to go back home first. I want to go back to Canada. If I die, will you send me back to Canada?"

"Hudson, hush," Mark says. "You won't die. It's a shoulder wound."

"I always see things like this on TV, but I didn't know how much it would hurt. It hurts so much. There's a reason I don't like guns! I will never turn my back on my bow!"

Mark shushes him again and hands him a pillow, which he clings onto for dear life. Phil retrieves the necessary equipment for extracting a bullet and gets to work, pulling his shirt off with some difficulty and starting his incisions. Hudson buries his face into the pillow, muffling a yell as tears start to stream down his face.

"Are you sure you have to remove the bullet?" Mark asks, turning to Phil. "Isn't it better to leave it in?"

"If the pro-NAI guys targeted some scrawny kid like Hudson, I have to take precautions," Phil replies. "Normally if we removed it we could risk bleeding, but since I have healing powers we don't have to worry about that. We just need to make sure there's no tracker."

"God..." Mark murmurs.

Hudson's breathing grows more sporadic to the point of hyperventilation, his eyes squeezed shut. Phil glances over, but seems unshaken. Mark tries to calm Hudson, but before he can, the boy passes out.

"I'll be done in a few moments. Don't worry about him," Phil says, glancing at the American. "It's better if he's unconscious."

"You sure?" Mark asks.

"Yep." The Brit hands him the bullet. "Destroy that immediately. If there's a tracker in it, it will shatter pretty easily if you smash it on the ground."

Mark nods and takes the bullet, heading outside the base and smashing it in the street to the best of his abilities. After a few more attempts, he concludes that there isn't any tracker, so he tosses it away and heads back into the base.

"We're clear," he says. Phil looks up from the sink, where he washes the blood off his hands, and nods.

"That's good. Now, I'm going to head back to bed." He glances over at Hudson, who sleeps with the pillow still clutched to his chest, before looking back at Mark. "I'm guessing you aren't going to sleep at all, so just keep an eye on him."

"You got it. Night, Phil."

The Brit gives him a two finger salute and returns to his room. Mark settles onto the chair, prepared to wait out the rest of the night.

The hero successfully stays up all night, his eyes aching and his head throbbing by the time the sun comes up. He showers in a desperate attempt to wash the sleepiness away and chugs two cups of coffee with copious amounts of sugar to help boost his energy levels. He realizes that he probably looks like a corpse, but he doesn't care. It'll be better when Jack returns.

Matthias, Felix, and Phil trickle into the main room, with the Brit checking on Hudson's wound. Matthias stands by, worrying his lip between his teeth. The rebel grimaces slightly in his sleep when Phil prods, but doesn't wake up.

"This sets us back. We need every rebel to be able to fight, and he won't be able to draw a bow if his shoulder is wrecked. I just... can't figure out why someone would attack a child if they didn't know who he was working with," Matthias says, running his thumb back and forth over his chin.

"He's eighteen, Matthias. He's not a child," Phil replies.

"He's incredibly young." Matthias runs his fingers through his hair. "And he could have been targeted. We need to find out how much of our plans have either leaked out or how much people have put together."

Phil shakes his head a bit and straightens up. "We can worry about that later. The other rebels probably don't know he's here."

Mark and Felix stand in the kitchen, listening in on their conversation and glancing at each other every once in a while. The American runs a hand down his face, sighing heavily.

"You look tired, Mark. Did you sleep at all?" Felix asks.

"No," Mark grumbles.

The door of the base opens and the four heroes turn towards it, face to face with three incredibly worried rebels. Before Red can say a word, Matthias steps forward.

"Hudson is here. He showed up late last night with a bullet wound in his shoulder, and Phil already fixed him up to the best of his abilities."

It's like a weight is lifted off their shoulders. The tension seems to leak out of all of them, and Lili looks past Matthias to see Hudson on the couch. Without a word, she moves to his side. Gunner exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Thank God. He never showed up and I was thinking that the worst had happened." He laughs shakily. "We can't lose our little Canadian."

The rebels and heroes laugh, but it's rather unenthused and doesn't last very long.

Matthias sighs, long and heavy, and crosses his arms. "Let's get to work. We have some unexpected road blocks that we need to work through."