The Fifth Elemental
Season 1
Shepisode 6
Water and Fire
A. I. Nasser
Copyright 2015 A. I. Nasser
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Peter Welsh's legs were on fire.
The day had started off pretty well. He had woken up with a mission, a smile plastered on his face that had looked so comical it had made him laugh when he had seen it in the mirror. He had eaten a simple enough breakfast, had slipped into the same clothes he had worn the night before, despite his better judgement, and had left his apartment with a mission. The night before had gone perfectly, in and out without any trouble, enough stolen to help him stay low for a few weeks.
The problem had started in the pawn shop.
Peter hated working with the old man behind the six inch glass separator, but he was the only one who didn't ask questions. This morning though, he had not been alone. Peter had walked into the shop, already pulling out his goods, when he had seen the two men.
He was out and running before they had even gotten out of their seats.
Peter risked a glance over his shoulders, and when he saw the men following him, he pushed harder. His legs were already screaming at him, complaining at the strain they were being subjected to so early in the morning. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Peter found himself wondering if maybe he should start hitting the gym soon.
He turned into an alley, pushing over anything in his way that would slow his pursuers down. He jumped over crates and dodged fire escape ladders that had been left down, gracefully weaving his way through the maze towards the end of the alley.
Glancing back again, he suddenly found himself lifted off the ground, soaring a few feet above the ground, then forcefully thrown into a wall. He fell to the ground, hard, slipping as he tried to push himself to his feet, only to find himself lifted up again and thrown into the opposite wall. This time, he didn't try to get up.
The men chasing him slowed down as they caught up to him, one of them coughing forcefully as he tried to catch his breath, the other grabbing Peter by the collar of his shirt and pulling him up to his feet.
"Ok, listen," Peter tried to say. "You've got the wrong guy."
His attempt at talking his way out of the situation was met with a cruel punch to the midsection that sent him back to the ground.
"You're the right guy, alright," the puncher said, kicking Peter in his side.
Peter tried to push himself to his feet again, leaning heavily against the wall. The other man pulled a gun out and aimed it at him, Peter instantly throwing his hands up.
"I hate running," the man with the gun said. "Why do they always run?"
"Hey, hey, hey," Peter started to panic. "Calm down, man."
The gunman pushed his weapon against Peter's cheek and sneered at him, obviously as calm as a rabid dog. He could see the sweat running down the man's face, his cheeks red with the effort, and Peter started to wonder if he'd shoot him just for the unneeded exercise he had put the man through.
"We can work something out here," Peter almost pleaded as the other man pulled his partner back and pushed his gun down.
"Sebastian wants him alive."
"Yeah, great, see?" Peter stammered. "What's his face wants me alive."
The gunman looked at his partner, at Peter, then back again. Knowing when an opportunity presented itself, Peter pulled a lighter out of his pocket, flicked it on and pushed. He watched the small flame explode in fury and engulf the man closest to him, sending him flapping his arms in circles as he tried to put out the fire. The gunman looked at his partner in surprise, and was just about to pull his gun out again when Peter sent the flames at him.
Peter started to run again, this time in the opposite direction, sending the fire into the crates and garbage around him as he fled. Glancing back, he smiled as he watched the flames cover his escape. His victory was short-lived, his body instantly flung to the ground as a gust of wind slammed into him. The wind picked up and he watched in horror as the flames parted, the gunman racing towards him with arms outstretched and a sneer of fury on his face.
Peter could feel the gusts of wind below him, raising him off the ground. Peter closed his eyes and felt the threads of fire running through his vein, pushing and pulling at him, searing with rage. He opened his eyes, a crimson red glow emanating from them as he let the energy within him out. He felt it escape him in a blast, giving life to the fire engulfing the alley. The gunman ducked as whatever field he had put up for protection shattered under the strength of the fire.
Peter didn't wait to see what was happening. Without a second thought he was on his feet and running.
#
Patricia watched Rick sleep.
They had driven for almost twelve hours across the country, stopping only to fill up on gas and restock with snacks. It had taken them almost another hour to find a secluded motel that would let them rent a room without asking too many questions, and the moment Rick had laid his head on the bed, he had fallen asleep.
Patricia sat in silence, quietly changing the dressing on her wound, and tried to gather her thoughts. Over the past few years she had found it harder and harder to fall asleep while on a job, secretly envying her boyfriend's ability to sleep through anything. Insomnia was her best friend, and at times, she even treated it like a companion she could have conversations with when no one was listening.
On many of those nights, she found herself reminiscing of better days when she and Rick only had grades to worry about. Calliope had picked them up early, separating the two of them only long enough for Rick to train and her to finish the police academy. She enjoyed life more when they were settled in one city, keeping a low profile while she worked her way up to detective.
Patricia sighed as she finished plastering on her new dressing, sitting back and rubbing her temples as she wished herself to sleep. She usually spent a few hours working her way through research until she would fall asleep at her laptop, knowing well that lying in bed proved less than helpful with the insomnia. Still, tonight she was too tired even for that.
Rick snorted and turned in bed, his arm resting on the empty space where she should have been laying. Patricia watched him with a smile and considered waking him up just for the hell of it. She dismissed the notion immediately when he began to snore.
Over the years she had learned quickly that Rick's powers were ever only effective when he was well rested. Besides the constant assignments, he had the rest of his Quartet to worry about, a paternal instinct she found charming. It became worse when the group had to split up to cover more ground, and she often joked that she could hear the gears in his head turning as he spaced out during conversations.
Patricia stood up and paced the room, limping a bit on her bad leg, trying not to strain it too much and open the stiches. She spent a few minutes by the room's window, looking out at the deserted parking lot, and continued her little exercise some more. She needed to sleep.
Making her way back to the table, she reconsidered the laptop and pulled it out from her bag, opening it and waiting for it to load. She thought about their assignments, three cases spread apart that had them all driving in different directions. For the others, they were going back to familiar grounds, and she silently wondered about Calliope's choice.
Patricia knew that she and Rick could nev
er go home. For starters, she didn't even want to. She couldn't imagine even driving past her old house where her step father had killed her mother, where Rick had first learned just how much he could do. To her, it was a haunting memory of just how close she had come to losing him as well, and just thinking about that hurt. She knew Rick would have loved to see his parents, but rules were rules.
It made her wonder how hard it would be for the rest. She was sure Leah would be able to take care of herself, bottle down her emotions long enough to get the job done. She had had problems with the redhead at first, doubting her sanity on more occasions than one, a reckless fire elemental who gave very little thought to the consequences of her actions. Years of working together, however, helped them develop a much needed level of respect for each other, one that was vital to the balance of the Quartet.
Eric and Nadia, on the other hand, were different. She still considered them kids. Her kids. Both had grown quickly, she had to admit, mastering their powers in ways that had saved them all on various occasions, but she still felt responsible for them. She wondered how hard going home would be for them, especially Nadia. Eric had had time to say goodbye, but Nadia had chosen to simply disappear. Patricia wondered just how hard her homecoming would be.
"Trish?"
Patricia looked up from her screen as Rick sat up in bed and scratched his head. His eyes were half closed as he took in his surroundings as if he had no idea where he was.
"What time is it?" he asked, reaching for the bottle of water on the night stand and drinking slowly.
"Almost three am," Patricia replied, closing her laptop screen. She got up from her seat and walked to the bed, gently kissing his forehead as he wrapped an arm around her waist. She felt his hand wander down her leg and check her new wound dressing.
"Did you change that?"
Patricia nodded, cradling his head in her hands.
"What are you doing up?" he asked, pulling her down to sit on his lap.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Was I snoring?"
Patricia smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll only say yes if it gives me a better excuse for being awake."
Rick hugged her and rocked from side to side slowly. "Trish, I need you fully rested for tomorrow," he whispered. "Shot leg and lack of sleep are a bad combination."
"I'll be fine," Patricia tried to sound reassuring. "People usually run when they see me coming at them."
"You know it's the guns that scare them, right?"
"Are you saying that without them I don't strike fear in the hearts of the wicked?"
"Limping towards them won't help."
Patricia hit him playfully. "You're lucky I love you, Rick Turen," she said, "or I'd make you regret saying that."
Rick smiled and rolled her into bed, hugging her as they lay side by side in the darkness. Patricia pulled his arms tighter around him and closed her eyes.
"This is our last one," Rick whispered behind her. "We're going home after this one. I don't care what Lucius or Calliope say."
"Never thought you loved the Keep that much," Patricia said.
"Six months on the road, Trish," Rick yawned. "That's enough to make anyone love the Keep."
Patricia smiled and drifted off, insomnia deciding to give her a night's break.
#
Leah drove her motorcycle down Babbidge Road and turned into the south parking garage of the Homer Babbidge Library. The large structured welcomed her as she took off her helmet and watched from afar, her younger brother Brian making his way into the library with a group of students. She scanned the crowd, trying to make out any familiar faces, and waited for her brother to disappear beyond the library's doors before following suite.
Leah was reluctant to approach Brian just yet, worried just how bad their reunion might go. He had made it no secret that he blamed her for what happened to their family, a fact delivered to her from Steven who was the only sibling Brian wanted to talk to. She hated Calliope for giving her the assignment, but Steven was busy at the Keep, and sooner or later she had to step up.
Leah strode into the library, making her way to the work spaces beyond the shelves, trying to stay out of sight. It was quiet here, the atmosphere perfect for the dozens of students sitting at various tables. Being a university library made it a hub for the academics, something she was even surprised Brian was. She had always thought university life would be like in the movies, she herself never having attended anything after high school, but Brian seemed to be taking things more seriously. She believed Steven had a lot to do with that, although Brian had no idea the Order was funding his tuition.
We take care of our own, Herneith had told her years back, and she had kept her word so far. It was at Steven's request that Brian stay out of the conflicts, but since Rakel had begun recruiting with vigour, it wasn't safe for her little brother anymore. She wondered how well he would take it, all things considered, especially since she was the bearer of the news.
She took a seat at a table near the far end of the study space, in a corner and half hidden by a couple of students busy at comparing notes. They looked at her with confusion, her dress code far from what was typical of the university student norm. She smiled at them and winked, then diverted her attention to where her brother sat with his own study group. He seemed happy, all smiles, a stark difference from the complexion he had the night before.
Leah had an idea of what her mother was going through, the alcohol, the lack of work, the verbal abuse. She had once thought that since her father was gone, things would get better for her brother and mother, but life dealt her remaining family members terrible cards. Her mother had quickly taken her father's place, minus the beatings. Leah wondered if she even knew what she was doing.
She watched her brother take a book out of his bag, and, before opening it, look up in her direction. Their eyes met for only a second before Brian's smile vanished. Leah gave him a slight wave that wasn't returned, and pointed towards the rows of book shelves to the side. Brian stared at hard, obviously contemplating whether or not to do as she wished, and Leah waited. After a few moments, he turned to the girl next to him, whispered something, and then got up, making his way towards the shelves.
Leah watched him go, and then looked back at the table where the girl Brian had just talked to was staring at her. She could sense tension in the brunette's gaze, and Leah wondered just how much her little brother had shared with his friend about his family. Leah gave her a dismissive smile, and then got up after her brother.
"What the hell are you doing here, Leah?"
She found him near the psychology books, away from the crowd.
"Nice to see you too, bro," Leah said, then mocked a cringe when he shushed her.
"Keep it down, will you?"
"Sorry," Leah smiled, looking around her and acting like she had done something wrong. "I didn't mean to offend the Gods of literature."
"Whatever," Brian dismissed her foolishness with a wave. "What do you want?"
"You know, we have a pretty cool library at the Keep," Leah whispered. "Maybe if you're good this year, we can let you visit."
"That's it, I knew you were wasting my time," Brian said, walking past her. "It's been a real displeasure."
Leah grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Oh, come on. Is that a way to talk to your big sister?"
"Go to hell, Leah," Brian said, pulling his arm away. "
"Ok, ok," Leah raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, this isn't a courtesy call. We need to talk."
"I don't want to talk to you," Brian said. "I don't want to have anything to do with you. If you want to say something to me, say it to Steven. You and me are through."
"Fine," Leah almost shouted, then lowered her voice in an angry hiss. "Be the whining little brat all you want. Cry about how everything turned out awful for you because of me. I don't care."
"Then why are you here?" Brian shot back.
"Because Steven couldn't be!"
Broth
er and sister stared at each other, almost challengingly, frowning at each other. Brian's hands were curled into fists, and although he had almost a foot's advantage over her, Leah wanted him to lash out. Deep down, she knew that if he could just let out some of that anger, they could get down to the real issue at hand.
"Brian?"
Both turned towards the brunette Leah had seen with her brother earlier. She still had the frown on her face, and her eyes shot daggers at Leah.
"Family business, sweetheart," Leah said. "Mind your own."
"I will slam my fist in your mouth if you open it again," Brian hissed at Leah.
"Let's see how that works out for you, big boy."
The brunette coughed to get their attention, then raised her palms upwards questioningly at Brian.
"Don't worry," he assured her. "I got this."
The brunette looked at Leah again, then back at Brian. "Well, hurry up."
Leah watched the girl leave before shifting her attention back to her brother. "She's cute."
"Leave her out of this."
"Does she know what we can do?"
"I said, leave her out of this."
Leah grimaced. "Ouch," she mocked. "That's going to be an awkward conversation."
"There won't be a conversation," Brian said, pointing a finger in Leah's face. "I don't want you anywhere near her."
Leah fought the urge to twist Brian's finger. "Fine, I'll stay away," she finally said. "But, you and me, we need to talk. Now."
#
"Peter Welsh?"
Peter rolled out from under the car he was working on, and registered the high heels first. He followed the slender legs up and smiled instantly when he laid eyes on the woman in front of him. He slid out completely and sat up, wiping his hands on the rag attached to his belt, running a bunch of one-liners in his head as he thought about how he could reply.
"Well, hello gorgeous."
Of all the lines, he thought. He mentally slapped himself across the back of the head.
Patricia wasn't amused, taking off her sunglasses to take a better look at the man as his smile faltered for a second, and then returned. Rick had told her to go ahead until he parked the car, but now she wondered if that was a wise decision. For a second, she thought she might just turn around and leave. Let Sebastian have this guy.