Crucifixion part 2
Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist
Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch
Phoenix is rescued by someone unexpected.
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CWs: impaling, blood loss, discussion of immortality and death, past emeto, crucifixion, tourniquets, discussion of possible long-term injury
“Any sign?”
“Nothing yet, boss,” comes a crackle in his ear.
“Alright, keep looking.” Ifa resumes scanning the city with his binoculars. Firebird has to be somewhere, they can’t have just vanished. There's no chatter on the internal Hero League network, or among the villains, but there has to be some trace of them.
“So,” says Alex, his sidekick, sitting down beside him, “Firebird. Why are you so concerned? They could just be on holiday. Heroes are allowed days off.”
“I checked the League’s records. They’re not on holiday.” He doesn’t add that they don’t seem to have taken any time off, ever, in the two years since they started there. Not even injury leave after their fights. That just fits what he’s suspected for a while now. “And I’m concerned because they’re my nemesis. If they’re not fit to fight I need to know.”
“Bullshit. You’re protective. More protective than I’ve ever known you to be with a hero. What is it about them?”
Just then, Ifa’s headset crackles into life. “I’ve found them.” The henchman sounds ill. “Abandoned warehouse, I’m sending you the co-ordinates. Bring a first aid kit, and make sure Bayou’s with you.”
“Roger that.” He stands, and he and Alex start to run through their headquarters. They stop at the medbay for supplies. “You asked me why I’m protective, Alex? Next time you get a chance, look at their arms. Compare them to the scars on yourself. That’s why I’m protective.”
_
Ifa stops dead in the middle of the warehouse, staring at the sight of the crucified hero in front of him, dressed in a vomit-stained t-shirt and underwear, blood dripping into pools on the concrete. Beside him, Alex gags.
“Dear God...”
“There’s no God here,” snaps Ifa, or tries to – his voice is softer than intended, and he clears his throat. “Get them down.”
A group of henchmen rush forward, lowering the cross to the ground. Firebird whimpers.
“Easy, Firebird,” mutters Shea, Ifa’s medic. Xie examines their wrists and curses. “One will come out cleanly, the other not so much. It’s half-buried, I’ll have to dig it out.”
“And their feet?”
Shea moves to them. “Clean. Just the right wrist that’s going to be a problem. I’m going to apply tourniquets and then pull each nail straight out. We don’t have any pain relief they’re able to take, so I’ll need some of you to hold them down. And a scalpel.”
As xie starts tying tourniquets on all four limbs there’s another whimper.
“No... please, no more...”
“I need to remove the nails,” Shea murmurs, “it’s going to hurt but I’m removing them, I promise.”
Firebird whines, seemingly unaware of what’s happening, and Alex strides forward, placing her hands firmly on the top of their left arm.
“Do it.”
Shea yanks the nail out of their left wrist and Firebird lets out a deafening scream, thrashing in Alex’s hold. Two more henchmen rush forward to hold their other arm and legs – Firebird is clearly desperate, they're bucking away, tearing the nails in deeper. Shea ties a tight bandage over the hole before moving onto the feet. Once they’re complete xie turns to Alex and Ifa.
“I’m going to dig out the remaining nail. Electrocus, I assume you have a scalpel.” Ifa doesn’t even bother with a token protest that he’s safer than that, just takes one out of his pocket and hands it over. “Alex, hold their arm down. This is going to be very painful and I don’t want their thrashing making it worse.” Alex does so and Shea digs the scalpel into their wrist around where the visible part of the nailhead sits.
Firebird howls.
Acting on some instinct he didn’t know existed, Ifa strides forward and crouches down behind Firebird’s head, stroking their flaming red and purple hair. “Easy, Firebird. I know it hurts, but it won’t be long now.”
Firebird doesn't seem to hear him, but they calm slightly, still breathing heavily and whimpering but their howling has lessened. With a last yank that makes the hero arch upwards in pain, Shea pulls the nail free of their wrist, flinging it disgustedly across the warehouse. It hits the wall with a clang.
Xie ties a bandage tightly around their wrist and stands, packing away the first aid kit. "Right. We're ready to move. One of you bring them, carefully."
Ifa steps back, letting Alex lift Firebird into her arms. "I want some of you to document this... scene, and find any evidence you can of who did this. And then get rid of the place. Do what you like, I don't care, just make sure it's cleaned up. I don't want anyone able to use this place again. Is that clear?"
Bill, who loves explosives, grins. "Yes, boss."
Ifa sighs. At least this place will be guaranteed to have been wiped off the map.
"Once you're finished, go home. Get some rest. I want at least one of you on call at all times in case we need anything, but the rest of you can relax. If you want to find out who did it I won't stop you," he adds, and one of the henchman's eyes glitter with the promise of revenge. He's the one who noticed Firebird's scars in the first place when they were locked in Ifa's cells, and he also became vaguely fond of the young hero. Though this may not just be revenge for Firebird that the henchman is thinking of. "But do not take any sort of action against them without informing me first."
"Yes, boss."
"Good. Now go. And remember there's information on trustworthy therapists in your employee handbooks. I'll let you know when you're needed back at work."
Ifa strides after Alex as she and Shea leave the warehouse, climbing into Shea's van outside. It's kitted out as a basic transport ambulance (at Shea's insistence) and Shea straps Firebird to the bed. The young hero's unconscious now, thankfully.
"We'll take them to the caravan," says Ifa decisively to Alex, who nods and starts driving at breakneck speed. "Shea, do you have everything you need there?"
"Yes, I did a restock and stock check last month." Xer head is bowed and xie speaks quietly as xie examines Firebird's right arm.
"What's wrong?"
"They were up there long enough for the skin to grow over the nail in their right wrist nearly completely. And there were scars on their other wrist where the nail had moved, I saw them. Scars. They haven't been missing long enough to heal like that naturally, even accounting for their healing factor, and we know dying speeds up their healing process. They must've died more than once on that cross. How... how did no-one raise the alarm? We would've heard if they had. There's a serial killer on the loose! Where did their teammates think they were? I don't... how can everyone care so little?"
Ifa sighs. "I don't know. But I get the feeling Firebird doesn't have many friends." He strokes their hair gently for something to do. "Do you think they'll get the movement back in their hands?"
"I don't know enough about them to say. There'll be a lot of scar tissue, but if their healing factor's strong enough to regrow the nerve it's possible. Their fine motor control won't be the same again though. I'm tempted to let them die and come back, that might be better for their healing, but..." Xie shakes xer head.
"That's Firebird's decision to make," says Ifa, firmly. Shea nods. Ifa hopes that Firebird doesn't want to die again, when they wake, because he's not sure he could bear to actually kill them, but as he said. It's their decision.
He claps his hands together, and Shea jumps.
"So. What do you need me to do when we get to the caravan?"