“I woke up, & you were gone” OR “just breathe… you’re okay, i promise, just breathe.”, tommyjon
The lights flicker and Tommy jumps. He freezes as the sounds created by his sloppy landing echo around the warehouse, hands outstretched towards the quivering metal beams stacked ten feet away. Tommy focuses, holding his breath, until he brings the shaking molecules to a halt.
You don’t actually have to use your hands for telekinesis right? Favs mocks him in his head.
Dick, Tommy thinks forcefully to hide the twinge of his heart. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. And so you wouldn’t-
How well did that work out?
Tommy shakes his head to clear it. There’s no time for regrets right now. There will be plenty of time, later, to curl up on the couch, to coax Lovett and Pundit out from Lovett’s bedroom. Plenty of time to miss him, to replay every second in his head for the millionth time and try to figure out what he could have-
Right now there’s a job to do.
Tommy walks forward, more careful than before. He’s acutely conscious of all the technology in this room, the simple electrical cords crisscrossing the floor that the mysterious man - person, whatever Tanya - known only as The Hacker seems to be able to control with just a simple touch.
Last time, Tommy had gotten almost blinded by a fucking laptop battery, suddenly flooding with energy while all the other lights went out. He’s starting to really appreciate the dark.
The Hacker’s powers aren’t limited to firing up electric currents though. He’s already taken down technology at four government buildings, disrupting illegal surveillance and military operations along with welfare programs. Eight hundred thousand people hadn’t gotten food stamps last month, even as a massive wire transfer to a defense contractor had been knocked offline and the product, thousands of drones, spontaneously blew up.
In his worse moments, Tommy thinks that The Hacker is probably trying to help. In extreme and reckless ways, that overlook collateral damage for the goal of inflicting as much damage as possible to the increasingly corrupt government, but trying to do good nonetheless. Then Tommy remembers San Diego, and the illusion shatters.
“Forty more feet,” Tanya says quietly in his earpiece. Tommy nods instinctively, even though she can’t see it. There’s a wood pallet in front of him that’s going to make noise if he steps on it. It lifts up into the air, spinning artfully before coming to a rest between two metal canisters, silent.
He’s getting pretty good at this.
“Twenty-five feet.”
A red light flips on in front of him. Tommy takes a step back, instinctively, and there’s a sickening click.
“Shit!” A voice yells from the darkness. “And I was so fucking close-”
He knows that voice.
“Tommy, you gotta get out of there, the heat signature,” Tanya says urgently. He takes three steps back, turns towards the exit he knows is closest. The quiet doesn’t matter as Tanya’s voice urges him on so he carelessly flicks aside boxes, beams, cords in front of him.
“Fucking hell! Shut down you stupid machine!”
Tommy hits the door, as there’s a loud noise from behind him, an explosion lighting the night.
“Tanya, where’d he go?” Tommy asks sharply. He can hear her keyboard clicking rapidly. “Tanya!”
“I didn’t see anyone leave,” she says finally. “Looks like there’s still someone inside- they were caught up in their own- Tommy what the fuck?”
Tommy is already running back into the flames.
“Lovett!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “Lovett where the fuck are you?”
“Lovett?” Tanya is asking, confused. “Tommy, come back here!”
Tommy ignores her, flinging debris aside casually. He’s never been more grateful for his weird mind trick than now, as he discards flaming wood without a thought for the heat. He knows what he heard. Can’t quite believe it, but he’s certain.
“Lovett!” He yells again. “Please!”
“Tommy?” Lovett sounds confused and scared but he’s close, he’s right-
“Lovett!” Tommy yelps, taking the corner too fast. Lovett is on the ground in the middle of a tangle of cords and the remnants of at least two computers, dark hoodie pulled around the face that Tommy would know anywhere.
“You- you’re- how?” Tommy asks, kneeling beside him, getting a hand on clammy skin, somehow cool, cold, even as fire rages around them.
Lovett looks dazed. “Now you know,” he says placidly. “I was this close. Did you know the Russian Embassy is hooked into a server that’s connected to a server at the Kremlin?”
“I didn’t,” Tommy says distractedly, eyes scanning the tangle of cords, mind tugging and sliding them away from Lovett’s legs and arms. He lifts the computer monitor from Lovett’s chest and Lovett exhales hard and- “How did you manage that?”
There’s a metal rod in Lovett’s ribs. It must have missed his organs or he’d be-
“I can’t move things,” Lovett says condescendingly. “Just energy.”
“Soon you’re not going to be able to move anything,” Tommy says, sharp. “Stay still,” he orders, picking Lovett up off the ground carefully, keeping him level, steady.
“So the Kremlin huh?” Tommy asks as he starts moving them slowly back towards the door. “How many people were going to lose their savings when you crashed Russian banks?”
“Not as many as were going to be better off without the threat of Russian aggression and no NATO support,” Lovett snaps.
Tommy sighs heavily. It’s an old argument. One they’d had a thousand times as Crooked Media fizzled under the strain of a crumbling democracy. One that had ended abruptly when Lovett stopped fighting, put on a fake smile, strategized with Favs about communications. One he’d forgotten when Lovett retreated to his house, to his bedroom after- after The Hacker had- after Lovett had-
“What about Delta 64?” Tommy asks. Lovett’s face tightens, with pain or regret. “What about San Diego?”
“He shouldn’t have been there,” Lovett mutters, dark and dangerous.
“You shouldn’t have been there! We were fighting together! Why did you have to do this?” Tommy cries. Lovett shakes in the air as Tommy loses his grip. Tommy catches him in his arms before he can fall more than a few inches.
“Because you didn’t think I could do it,” Lovett says, soft and labored.
“I didn’t think you should do it,” Tommy argues. Lovett sighs and lets his head fall against Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy picks his way across the uneven concrete. Tanya is still snapping in his ear.
“Tommy!” Lovett yelps. Tommy turns his head. The fire has grown improbably fast and is racing towards them. Tommy runs, pushing the sound of Lovett’s pained cries to the back of his awareness. They have to get out.
They clear the door and Tanya slams it, right as the whoosh of fire hits the metal frame.
“You goddamned idiot,” Tanya says sharp. Tommy is looking down.
Lovett is pale in the moonlight and the reflections of the flames in the windows. His eyes are glazed, but he’s looking at Tommy.
“Lovett,” Tommy says. “Hold on.”
“Tommy- I’m-” Lovett’s head rolls back
“Lovett!” Tommy squeezes his hand. ““Just breathe… you’re okay, I promise, just breathe, come on Lovett!”
“I’m-” Lovett whispers. “Sorry.”
“Lovett stay with me! Lovett!”