Part Two

He remembered their first escape years before. It had been wild, full of excitement and more energy than any of them could fully process. They had taken their opportunity and run with it, leaving a fiery heap of chaos in their wake.

This time had been different from start to finish. This time Blackwing had done everything to make sure they wouldn't find that window. They'd been kept separate, chained, and half starved. More than half by the end of it. Amanda had said he hadn't been breathing when she had found him. He could recall pieces of what happened after they strapped him down to the table, but he'd rather not. No, that was done and lingering on it wouldn't help him or his Rowdies. They needed him right then, and if he let his mind wander to the horrors they'd been steeped for the last however many months Blackwing had held them, Martin knew that he would be worse than useless to his little chosen family.

There was no celebratory shouting with this escape. No howling or cheering. Any energy coming from the panicked Blackwing officers was used just to keep them on their feet and get them out. They were quiet, everyone holding onto each other once they broke free. Vogel had Gripps and Martin had been moving to offer Cross help when his leg had nearly given out under him and Amanda had waved him off, slinging one of Cross' arms around her shoulder to make sure he had a place to lean. Martin had felt her watching him the whole way, though, as if she thought she might be able to catch him if he went tumbling in full. He didn't and they'd made it out.

They'd found what must have once been a storage warehouse to lay low in. It was old, abandoned, and in prime condition to wreck, but somehow no one moved to it. It might have been fun, but with no one but Amanda to feed off of from it, it would be all output without any input. No. They'd get some sleep that night and figure out where they'd go in the morning. Vogel jumped to searching the place out, his nervous energy starting to release some. They couldn't really feed off each other, but they could share, in a way, and as their youngest brother bounced around looking for useful junk left behind Gripps and Cross followed close.

Martin stood back and watched for a moment, blue eyes shifting around the dark warehouse and squinting at every shadow. They weren't the enemy. They weren't Blackwing. He and the Rowdies were safe. They would be okay. It was a mantra that he let play again and again and again, as if the repetition would cement it deep inside of him and push out the lingering fear that clawed at him. After a long moment and hearing Vogel finally cracking one of his infectious laughs around the corner, Martin pushed a breath out of his nose and turned. He needed some air.

The sun had dropped and the stars were out. It was clear and quiet, like they hadn't just been fighting for their lives earlier that day. He tilted his chin up, feeling his head ache a little as his eyes tried to adjust to the expanse without his glasses to help them. He was going to have to do something about that. He was going to need to do something about a lot of things.

"You look like you could use a smoke."

Martin tensed, the voice catching him by surprise and he turned, a snarl building deep in his throat, fist clenched so hard that his knuckles were white, ready to throw a punch at whatever enemy had managed to sneak up on him.

As quickly as the aggression had built, it dissipated at the sight of Amanda standing there, a pack of cigarettes extended to him, and her brown eyes wide in surprise at his reaction. He did everything he could to ease his expression, trying to force himself to relax. It was Amanda, not Blackwing. He was safe. He was okay.

"Sorry, didn't mean to spook you," Amanda managed, her words hesitant and awkward. Her eyes were watching him carefully, as if trying to gauge to situation, but she hadn't pulled back. Her hand was steady with the pack offered.

He took it and knocked one out, a lighter following it. He tried to ignore the fact that his own hands were trembling just a little as he put it to his lips, sparked the lighter, and inhaled deeply. Martin felt the smoke run down his throat, nicotine working its way through his system. Well that was going to help, even if just a little.

Blue eyes drifted slowly open and shifted to look at the woman that was still standing there. He took another long drag before offering it over. Amanda took it, lifting it to her own lips and he watched her curiously, grateful for a chance to focus on anything other than the shadows that might leap out at him and cage him again. Or worse, the others. He'd told them he'd protect them, but he couldn't. Not fully. All he could do once they'd been taken was try to put himself between Blackwing and his boys. It hadn't lasted long. They hadn't been willing to leave any of them alone. He could still feel the pressure of the straight jacket tied and hear the rattling of the chains as they had been pulled up from the dark pits they had been kept in. Martin hated the dark. The first few days had been drenched in silence, blinded by nothingness in every direction. By the time they had pulled him up he was not only starved for energy, but every nerve had been raw. They'd pushed every limit he had and drawn him past even those. It had left him drained and achy, dropping him back down into the tank only to realize that he could still hear Cross and Gripps' screams as they had gone at them next. He'd fought as hard as he could the first few times, but he couldn't break free.

"Martin?"

A chill ran down his spine and he realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts. Amanda was offering the cigarette back and he accepted it silently, trying to focus on the familiar smell and taste.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice breaking through. He could feel the uncertainty rolling off of her in waves. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know how.

"Hey," he greeted back roughly and he found the same dark eyes on him that he'd seen when he had jolted back awake strapped to that table. She'd been afraid then. He could still feel that terror rushing through him mixed with…. he still wasn't sure. He didn't think she was either, if they got down to it, but it had been like a shock of adrenaline to his starving system that had gotten him on his feet and out with the others. Now, he felt it wearing off, and the deep exhaustion tugged him to the ground so that he took a hard seat with the cigarette still dangling from his lips.

"Martin!" Amanda yelped, immediately following him to the dusty ground. Her hand rested on his shoulder and he had to work hard not to flinch away. "You okay?"

No. That was the real answer. He wasn't okay, but admitting that, even to himself, could open up a floodgate that none of them could afford. He had promised to protect them. He had to be okay. "Just tired," he grunted.

She eased herself down next to sit next to him. "Never thought I'd want an attack so bad just to give you something," she murmured and she leaned her shoulder into him. He could feel the tangled emotions surrounding her and he breathed a few stray whiffs in. He felt her lean her head against his shoulder, a little hesitantly at first as if she were waiting for a sign it wasn't okay, by then a soft breath left her. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, handing what was left of the cigarette back to her and she waved it off for him to finish.

"Not getting there sooner." She pulled in a deep breath. "Listen, I know you probably don't want to talk about it. I get it. I'm not saying you have to or anything, but…. I just need to know if you're hurt. Vogel told me about some of the things they did to you guys the first time and-"

"It was worse," Martin bit out, pulling the smoke down his throat and into his lungs. "Lot worse." She was quiet next to him and he flicked the butt of the cigarette out and watched it bounce off a rock, the last of the embers flying in a couple of directions. "Not your fault though."

She pulled away from him and he felt the shift to determination. He saw it in her eyes when he turned to look at her. Their little drummer had fought like hell to get to them, and she'd toughened up. He'd known she was special, and not just because of her disease. She was special.

"You didn't answer my question, you know."

Despite everything, Martin found himself smiling just a little. "I will be. We heal up pretty fast when we're fed."

She grimaced at that. "You were screaming just before we found you."

"Hurt like hell," he admitted softly. "The boost you gave me helped though."

He saw her cheeks tinge red. "Yeah. That."

His smile felt a little more real now. "You got a lot of feeling running around, drummer girl."

"I guess I do. Listen I…" She ducked her head for a moment, but when she looked back up her gaze was determined again. She leaned forward and Martin froze in place as her lips pressed against his, sending a rush through him that he wasn't accustomed to. Panic was good. Fear tasted amazing. Anger and frustration and confusion, all strong enough to dine on any time they were available. This though… this was what he had tasted when she'd jolted him back at the base. It was gentle but powerful, sweet and intense. He felt it rush through him, lingering even after she broke away, and from the expression she wore he thought she must have felt something from it too. "I don't know… exactly how I feel about everything that happened yet," she said quietly, "but i know I'm not ready to lose you, okay? They don't get to take you away. I won't let them."

A loud crash followed by Vogel's laugh drew both of their attention and Amanda smiled fondly and she stood. Martin followed her up, and touched her wrist, feeling the lingering spark of emotion between them as he did. "I ain't goin' anywhere," he promised her, his voice low and rough.

She smiled, the expression bright and beautiful in the middle of all the darkness. "Except maybe to get some sleep. I think we could all use some. C'mon." She shifted her hand into his and pulled him forward. He followed willingly back into the warehouse where the other Rowdies had found several mattresses that they had laid out to sleep on and even a few pillows. Those were being used in the only way appropriate by Vogel and Gripps who were engaged in an all out pillow fight with them, Cross watching from the outskirts.

The fear and the pain wasn't gone. It still hung heavy over the three that had been held and even the two that had been searching, but they would get past it. Together. That was the only way they knew how.

"Martin! 'Manda! We found-" Vogel's cheerful proclamation was cut short as Cross chose to join in, slamming the younger Rowdy square in the face with a pillow.

Martin smirked and he moved over to one of the mattresses to try to sleep off at least some of the exhaustion, lulled by the sounds of his brothers. No sooner had he laid down, though, he found himself joined on the single mattress by the others. They piled in nearly in top of him - Vogel actually sprawling out on top - like they'd just been waiting for him. It was comfortable for him after the way Blackwing had tried to tear them apart. They were there and they were safe. They were okay.

Amanda joined them on the mattress and Martin felt the corners of his mouth tilt up as she tucked herself in next to him. They didn't have all the answers, but they are whole again. They would be okay.

Notes: I somehow talked myself into writing a story based when they're trapped in Blackwing as well... heaven help me there's no stopping this madness is there? I guess I'm writing for this fandom no matter how much I promised myself I'd just sit back and enjoy what's already there. Ah well... best laid intentions and all that...