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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Luke lingered after Tobias left, slouched lazily in his chair while the room slowly emptied around them. One by one the others filtered into the hallway until only silence remained, heavy and humming beneath the distant sounds of the tower. Across the room, Bellamy drifted toward the windows like she’d been pulled there unconsciously, arms crossed tight around herself as sunlight spilled across the glass. Luke watched her for a long moment without shame, blue eyes tracking every small tell, the stiffness in her shoulders, the fragile tension in her posture, the way grief still seemed to weigh visibly against her ribs. Prey animals stood like that sometimes, right before they bolted. 

Slowly, Luke rose to his feet. He didn’t approach her directly at first, instead wandering toward the windows with practiced ease, hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks. His reflection joined hers in the glass long before he stood beside her, tall and broad and deceptively relaxed beneath the midday light. [color=995749]"Hell of a meeting for your first real day here,"[/color] he said softly, voice warm in a way that immediately lowered defenses. 

Bellamy startled faintly before glancing toward him, surprise flickering across her tired face. [color=bdddff]"I’ve… definitely had calmer mornings,"[/color] she admitted quietly. Her smile was small and uncertain, polite despite the exhaustion hanging from every word. 

Luke chuckled under his breath and stepped a little closer, shoulder nearly brushing hers as he looked out toward the pool. [color=995749]"You handled yourself well,"[/color] he murmured. [color=995749]"Most people would’ve cracked under all that pressure."[/color] 

Bellamy blinked at him, visibly caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. [color=bdddff]"Oh,"[/color] she said softly. [color=bdddff]"Thank you."[/color] Somehow, without her noticing exactly when it happened, Luke had moved closer again. Not enough to touch her, not enough to seem overtly threatening, but enough that the space around her began to feel smaller. The cool glass pressed faintly against her chest while one of Luke’s hands settled beside her shoulder against the window frame. Crowding. Deliberate.

[color=995749]"You know,"[/color] he said quietly, gaze dragging across her face in a way that made her stomach tighten in anxiety, [color=995749]"You don’t have to pretend you feel safe here."[/color] Bellamy’s breath caught as his voice stayed soft, almost intimate despite the discomfort creeping up her spine. [color=995749]"People in this tower?"[/color] he continued, lowering his head slightly. [color=995749]"They love broken things. Makes them feel important. Useful."[/color] The words slid into her chest like cold water.

[color=bdddff]"Tobias isn’t like that,"[/color] Bellamy replied quickly, something defensive bled into the edges of her voice before she could stop it. 

Luke smiled then, but there was nothing warm about it now. [color=995749]"No,"[/color] he agreed softly. [color=995749]"Tobias is worse."[/color] Sunlight scattered across the water of the pool, bright and beautiful behind the reflection of Luke’s smile in the glass.

Bellamy twisted suddenly like she meant to leave, the instinctive retreat of an animal finally recognizing danger too close to escape comfortably. She barely made it half a step before Luke’s hand caught her shoulder. His grip tightened instantly, fingers digging in just enough to stop her momentum before he pushed her backward against the window in one smooth motion, knocking the air from her lungs with the force of it. The glass trembled faintly behind her spine as he stepped in after her, broad frame blocking out the room until they stood nearly chest to chest.

Bellamy’s breath stuttered hard in her lungs. Her eyes widened openly now, panic finally stripping away the politeness and uncertainty she’d been clinging to. One of Luke’s hands stayed firm against her shoulder while the other planted beside her head against the glass, trapping her neatly between himself and the pool outside the window. She could smell chlorine and cologne and something warmer beneath it, something sharp and masculine that made the situation feel horribly intimate. Her pulse hammered so violently she was sure he could feel it.

[color=995749]"His dad is Magneto,"[/color] Luke said softly, the words dropping into the space between them like stones sinking through dark water. Bellamy’s stomach twisted as his grip tightened fractionally against her shoulder, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her she wasn’t going anywhere. His mouth hovered near her ear while sunlight poured across the glass behind them, completely at odds with the cold panic building beneath her skin. [color=995749]"And you know what they say about men like Magneto?"[/color] he continued quietly. [color=995749]"Men who build kingdoms out of fear don’t stay powerful by being merciful."[/color]

Bellamy swallowed hard, breath catching unevenly in her chest as she tried to pull back further and found nowhere left to go. Luke leaned closer instead, broad frame hemming her in while his voice remained low and horribly calm. [color=995749]"Powerful people will do anything to hold onto what they have,"[/color] he said. [color=995749]"They’ll sell their souls. They’ll sell the souls of their children."[/color] His lips brushed deliberately against the edge of her ear when he spoke next. [color=995749]"They’ll murder children and families if it means protecting their empire."[/color]

Cold spread sharply beneath Bellamy’s palms. Thin white veins of frost splintered across the glass behind her fingers while her breathing turned shallow and uneven. Her pulse hammered violently enough to make her dizzy as Luke’s voice continued threading through her panic like poison. [color=995749]"Everyone’s terrified of the disappearances right now,"[/color] he murmured. [color=995749]"But what if that’s the point?"[/color] His eyes searched her face carefully, watching fear take root. [color=995749]"What if it’s all smoke and mirrors while people like Magneto clean house behind the scenes?"[/color]

Bellamy shook her head quickly, but the movement lacked conviction now. Tobias’s face flashed through her mind, gentle hands, soft reassurances, the careful way he’d looked at her, and Luke twisted the knife before she could hold onto it. [color=995749]"Mutants who don’t fall in line disappear first,"[/color] he said softly. [color=995749]"And if it isn’t Magneto himself?"[/color] He shrugged faintly. [color=995749]"Then maybe Tobias learned from him anyway. Sons usually do."[/color]

[color=bdddff]"Stop,"[/color] Bellamy whispered weakly, panic bleeding openly through her voice now. Her hands pressed harder against the frozen glass as though she could somehow melt into it and escape him. Luke didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She took a shuddering breath, and refused—[i]refused[/i] to listen to his words, to his attempt to sow mistrust between her and the one person she felt like she [i]could[/i] trust. Bellamy mustered as much courage as she could, and glared up at him. [color=bdddff]"You’re wrong about Tobias. Let me go."[/color] 

Luke’s eyes narrowed at the defiance in her voice, something cold and irritated flickering briefly beneath the charm he usually wore so effortlessly. His hand tightened on her shoulder without warning, fingers digging in hard enough to hurt this time. Bellamy’s breath hitched sharply as pain shot through her arm, the fragile spark of courage twisting instantly into fear across her face. The frost on the glass behind her spread wider in thin frantic fractures.

[color=995749]"You don’t know Tobias,"[/color] Luke said quietly, almost cruelly calm.

He leaned closer still, forcing her to hold his gaze while tears started to gather in the corners of her wide eyes. [color=995749]"You know the version of him that benefits from keeping you obedient, dependent, and scared enough to stay close to him."[/color] His thumb pressed once against the aching spot beneath her collarbone, refusing to ease even slightly, even as the pain in her face became more pronounced. [color=995749]"That’s not the same thing."[/color]

Outside in the hallway everyone else began dispersing, disappearing in various directions, up stairwells or into the elevator. Tobias lingered a few paces back while Myla listened to Alfred explaining how to use the tablet in his hand. Of course, a touch screen of any kind was useless to her, but she still gave him her undivided attention, if only to make sure she could relay it back to Bellamy. It wasn’t much to offer, clothes and a softer helping hand, but Myla knew what it felt like to be alone and to have lost a father. It was sympathy, patience, and understanding… Which seemed to be in short supply in the tower at the moment. 

Tobias didn’t encroach on their space or insert himself into the conversation, he simply listened with a quiet sort of gratitude knowing that at least one other person was willing to help with the small things, without a prejudice towards mutants or judgements for what he did. There was a faint smile that grew as he watched them both, meeting Alfred’s gaze whenever he looked with a nod. 

Myla had gotten good at learning how to filter out other noises, like Magni and Imogen’s voracious sex life, or the occasional distant sirens she couldn’t chase even if she wanted to. It was like a dampening switch in her mind, turning it all to a soft hum like white noise, if only to keep her sanity. It kept most things at bay, unless there was a scream, or cry, or someone shouted her name. So the sinister twinge in Luke’s voice didn’t initially cut through her sharpened focus on Alfred. It wasn’t until she heard the tremble of glass beneath pressure that it started to push its way through. She didn’t interrupt or stop him, but her head turned a fraction to the left, then tilted a degree to the right like an owl listening for the soft shuffling of its prey. 

A heart raced loud and fast like the one woman she had found cornered in an alley near Harlem. It was more than an elevation from anxiety or discomfort, but from a lack of safety, from fear and helplessness. Myla’s hand extended, lightly pressing against Alfred’s shoulder, stopping him in the middle of saying something about Amazon. Her eyes narrowed, ears attuning to Bellamy’s plea on the other side of the wall and the sinister calm tinge to Luke’s words. Her head snapped toward Tobias, whose smile immediately faded, replaced with the weight of something that had yet to fall into his lap. [color=962929]"[i]Bellamy—[/i]"[/color] was all she managed to say, all she [i]needed[/i] to say before he moved. 

Tobias pivoted without a word, turning and heading back toward the conference room with the same urgency he had the night before, navigating heavy rain and the thicket of a forest. He didn’t bother reaching for the doorknob. His right hand waved to the side and the door followed, metal latch releasing, hinges giving beneath his control, and the door flew open with a strong enough force that the handle punched a small hole into the drywall. He stepped into the room, eyes first locking on the chair she once sat in, now vacant, before sweeping across the table toward the far windows. Luke’s body was a barricade, blocking him from seeing her at first. There was only the frost that crept up the window in sharp splinters the same way it did along the glass shower walls the night before. Then he saw a glimpse of brunette hair beside Luke’s hand where he gripped a shoulder with enough dominance that his knuckles were white. 

That was all it took. 

He didn’t even move, not at first. It was only Tobias’s eyes that fell to the large conference table separating them, then his gaze snapped to the left wall. It happened so fast that it wasn’t the movement that made a sound, but the collision that followed that reverberated like someone had driven a semi through the lobby of the tower. There was a fraction of a second where every screw holding the table together, its artistically arched steel legs, and the metal framing of the office chairs shifted before every piece of furniture in the room slammed into the left wall as if it had immediately flipped polarity. The wooden surface splintered and cracked under the force, chairs broke into pieces, and plastic wheels flew across the floor. 

His right extended out before him, fingers spread, as his powers shot out from him in intangible tendrils, and knotted itself around every piece of metal on Luke’s body: shoe eyelets, belt buckle, watch, even the iron in his blood. Tobias’s fingers curled into a tight fist before shoving his hand to the right, and the blond followed. His shoes skidded across the polished tile as he was dragged across the room, then slammed into the opposite wall with enough force to leave behind a Luke sized crater. 

Tobias didn’t stop to ask questions or for an explanation. He didn’t need one. He saw enough. His gaze was fixed on Luke as he crossed the room with a fury so dark beneath his eyes that it was unlike anything anyone within that tower might have seen from him before. For the first time since he ever set foot into the Academy he wasn’t a boy trying to atone for the crimes of his father, but a man tapping into every horror his father had taught him. He could have killed him. It would have been quick, done in an instant before one more single disgusting word fell from the lips of a man he once called a friend. Tobias would be lying if he said the thought didn’t cross his mind. But death was quick, and final, and he wanted retribution with his bare hands. 

He closed the distance between them in long heavy strides, not releasing his hold on him until they were face to face. Then, as they stood less than a foot apart, Tobias's imperceivable grasp dropped just long enough to draw back his right arm and throw it forward with every ounce of strength he possessed. Against a normal man a blow like that would have blackened an eye, broken a cheek or a nose, and left him dizzy. But Luke was not normal. Super soldier bullshit coursed through his veins. It’d still hurt, but not as much as the splintering pain that radiated from Tobias’s knuckles, along his hand, and up his wrist. It was like punching a concrete wall full force, but his face didn’t flinch with a single care, adrenalin overpowering reason. 

The sound hit Bellamy first. Wood exploded against drywall with a crack that rattled through her ribs, chairs skidding and snapping apart across the polished floor while frost climbed higher along the glass beside her in thin white veins. She jerked at the violence of it, breath catching sharply in her throat, but she never looked away from Tobias. One second he had been gone, the next he stood in the ruined doorway with fury burning through him so complete it altered the shape of the room itself. She had seen him violent before, had watched him kill for her in the rain, but this felt different—stripped bare, controlled only by the thinnest thread, every movement direct and purposeful in a way that made her pulse jump hard against the base of her throat.

Relief flooded her so quickly it left her dizzy. Luke’s hand was gone from her shoulder, Tobias was here, and some terrified knot inside her loosened the instant she realized she was no longer alone with him. But the relief tangled immediately with something hotter and far more dangerous when Tobias crossed the room toward Luke with that dark, terrible focus fixed in his eyes. Bellamy stood frozen beside the window, hands curled tight at her sides, watching the flex of his shoulders beneath his shirt, the sharp set of his jaw, the raw certainty in every step he took. The punch landed with a sickening crack that echoed through the conference room, and despite everything, despite the fear still clawing at the inside of her chest, despite the shaking in her legs, her stomach twisted hard with sudden, helpless attraction. Heat flushed up the back of her neck so fast it bordered on humiliating.

Thank God Imogen had left the room. Bellamy thought she might actually die if someone with telepathy caught hold of her thoughts right now. She could barely make sense of them herself, rooted to the spot and staring at Tobias like she’d never seen something quite like him before. The sight of him glowering at Luke, knuckles already swelling from the force of the blow and utterly uncaring about it, sent another sharp rush of warmth through her chest that she absolutely did not have the emotional stability to unpack. So she stayed silent instead, breathing shallowly, eyes fixed on him while frost continued to creep slowly across the edges of the window at her back.

Pain burst white across Luke’s face the instant Tobias’s fist connected. Bone cracked wetly beneath the force of it, his head snapping sideways hard enough to spray blood across the marble floor in bright red drops. He hadn’t been able to do anything to stop it, it wasn’t like [i]he[/i] could control all the metal in the fucking room. [color=995749][i]Mutants… it’ll be better when they’re all dead.[/i][/color] The taste flooded his mouth immediately, salt and copper thick on his tongue, and then he laughed. The sound came rough through the blood pouring from his nose as he straightened slowly, one hand wiping across the lower half of his face before flicking the red carelessly onto the floor beside him. His blue eyes burned when they lifted back toward Tobias, heat and humiliation and fury all tangled together beneath the surface. 

[color=995749]"Fuck,"[/color] he rasped with a grin that showed pink teeth. [color=995749]"I’ve met girls who hit harder."[/color]

He rolled his jaw once, nostrils crunching faintly beneath his fingers as he shoved the broken cartilage back into place with practiced brutality. Another laugh escaped him at the sharp burst of pain. [color=995749]"You’re getting so sensitive in your old age, just like your father."[/color] he sneered. [color=995749]"We were talking, you shouldn’t be so protective of your [i]little girlfriend.[/i]"[/color]

Then he moved. No warning. No posturing. Luke drove forward with the kind of speed that came from years of training under men who believed hesitation got people killed. His fist slammed into Tobias with enough force to launch him backward across the room, furniture exploding apart beneath the impact while the floor groaned under the weight of it. Luke followed two steps after him before stopping, chest rising steadily, blood still dripping from his nose onto his shirt.

[color=995749]"I know relying on your powers makes you sloppy,"[/color] he called across the wreckage, voice sharp with contempt. [color=995749]"But you should really try learning how to [i]actually[/i] fight."[/color]

He started toward him again, shoulders squared and eyes cold, but Bellamy moved first. She planted herself between them with shaking courage, arms spread slightly as if her body alone could stop what came next. Fear widened her eyes, frost still webbing across the glass beside her, but she held her ground anyway. Luke slowed at the sight of her standing there in front of Tobias, blood drying on his mouth while something hard and unreadable settled across his face. For one terrible second, it looked like he might hit her too.

Tobias flew backwards across the room, slamming into the half-destroyed mountain of furniture like he weighed nothing. Wood splintered under the force of it, sending pieces of the table in all directions around the room. The collision knocked the breath from his lungs before his body settled in the heap. He coughed and gasped for air and with every rise and fall of his chest a sharp pain pierced his side. He grimaced, shifting up onto his left elbow with a groan while Luke continued his posturing. 

Sticking out from his side was a splintered piece of the table the size of a stake. [color=796e9c]"[i]Fuck,[/i]"[/color] he grunted through gritted teeth. He could already hear Luke approaching, debris crunching beneath the soles of his shoes. Tobias was too stubborn to lose that easily, too determined to wipe that smug smile off his face and not let up until he put fear in Luke’s eyes like he had done to Bellamy. His fingers curled around the piece of wood and yanked it free without a second thought. A gasp came first, followed by the warm wetness of blood pooling against his shirt and running down his side. He needed to stand up, get back on his feet before Luke hit him again. Blood slicked fingers pressed against tile, digging into shards of metal, and chipped wood. Adrenalin and purpose dulled his senses, but it also made his heart race and the blood pump faster. 

When he looked up, he wasn’t met with Luke’s fury or a fist bearing down on his face, but a small brunette standing between them. Her arms were trembling and he could see the fear in the tension along her shoulders, but she didn’t back down, steadfast and frightened and brave enough to look it in the face and not back down. Tobias had always been a shield, taking hit after hit for others without ever expecting anything in return. It wasn’t a burden but a duty set upon himself in the hopes that each blow would take him one step closer to being more than his mistakes. But only one person had ever chosen to be [i]his[/i] shield, only his mom… until now. It made something impossibly warm tighten in his chest.

Before Tobias could even attempt to unpack what it meant, he caught a glimmer of something sadistic and violent behind Luke’s eyes as he looked down at Bellamy. He watched the muscles flex and tighten along the man’s arms and in that fraction of a second he recognized Luke’s dark intent, something he saw countless times in his own father’s eyes. [color=796e9c]"Don’t even fucking think about it,"[/color] he whispered with a furious calmness that was more haunting than shouting ever could be. 

Tobias didn’t give Luke an opportunity to react or even attempt to swing on her before the shattered remains of the conference room shifted around him. Metal tore free from a broken chair, elongating in the air into a silver rope. It wrapped around Bellamy’s waist, as gently as it could, and dragged her across the room toward the door until she was caught by Myla, who had been lingering on the edge of the room, observing but unable to intervene. She instinctively guided Bellamy behind her, keeping one hand securely wrapped around the girl’s arm, and sparing her a shake of her head that said this was one fight they couldn’t get in the middle of.

Once Bellamy was out of the line of fire, he didn’t hesitate, raising his leg and throwing his foot full force into Luke’s knee. When he stumbled back a step, Tobias climbed to his feet, and slammed his head straight into the man’s already broken nose. He felt the bone shift beneath the blow with a sickening crunch. A cold, dizzying ache bloomed across his forehead, the skin split, and a trail of crimson trickled down between his brows and along his cheek. Before Luke could regain his footing, Tobias was there again, shoulder shoved into his chest, arms around his waist, as he tackled him back against the wall. His left arm raised, forearm pressing hard against Luke’s neck to keep him pinned in place. It wouldn’t last long, Tobias’s raw strength was no contest for a super soldier, yet every fiber and muscle of his being pressed the man against the wall, determined to hold him there.

[color=796e9c]"So, you like hitting women?"[/color] he grunted through clenched teeth, his voice dropping to little more than a whisper as he leaned in close, nearly nose to nose. The struggle to keep Luke in place was visible in the tensing muscles across Tobias’s face, but he didn’t rush through it, taking his time so each word landed [i]exactly[/i] the way he wanted it to. His gaze dragged across his opponent, assessing him with a newfound level of disgust and hatred. [color=796e9c]"You seem like the type."[/color]

Tobias pressed his arm harder against Luke’s throat, leaning his entire body into it. [color=796e9c]"Only cowards hit women… Insecure men with fragile egos who cower in the shadows of their fathers."[/color] His tone got sharper and more violent, spitting each word out like an accusation that he was too blind to see until that moment. [color=796e9c]"Does it make you feel strong? [i]Powerful?[/i]"[/color] His dark, furious gaze never left Luke’s not for a single beat, not even when the man couldn’t bring himself to look back. [color=796e9c]"I could kill you before you lifted a fucking finger and not break a sweat."[/color] Then he leaned closer, severing the distance between them with strangled breaths, sweat, and the iron tinge of blood. [color=796e9c]"[i]That’s[/i] power. You’re just a parasite that likes to prey on the weak… You’re [i]pathetic.[/i]"[/color]


Rage hit Luke hot and absolute, flooding his vision red around the edges while Tobias’s forearm crushed against his throat. The pressure, the blood running into his mouth, the disgust in Tobias’s eyes—it all blurred together until instinct took over completely. He drove his fist into Tobias’s ribs once, twice, three times in rapid succession, each hit landing with enough force to bruise organs beneath skin and muscle. Then he twisted violently, hooked an arm beneath Tobias’s shoulder, and slammed him sideways into the wall hard enough to crack plaster and send framed metal fixtures crashing to the floor around them.

[color=995749]"You don’t know a fucking thing about me."[/color] Luke hit him again before the words even finished leaving his mouth. His fist crashed into Tobias’s face, then his stomach, then the split skin along his forehead where blood already poured freely down his features. Years of brutal training showed in every movement. No wasted motion, no hesitation, he fought like someone taught from childhood that mercy got you killed and weakness got you buried.

[color=995749]"You self-righteous fucking cunt,"[/color] he snarled, grabbing Tobias by the front of his shirt and driving his knee sharply into his side where the splinter wound still bled through soaked fabric. [color=995749]"You think because you throw yourself in front of people it makes you a hero?"[/color]

The conference room dissolved around them in flashes of violence, metal screaming through the air, broken furniture grinding beneath boots, blood smearing across white marble tile. Luke barely registered any of it. His nose streamed crimson down over his mouth and chin while fury hollowed him out from the inside, leaving only movement and impact and the desperate need to make Tobias shut up.

[color=995749]"You sound just like [i]him,"[/i][/color] he spat viciously, slamming Tobias backward again. [color=995749]"Always talking about power like you’re above wanting it."[/color]

His fist collided with Tobias’s jaw once more with a sickening crack, but he wasn’t hitting as hard as he had been a moment ago, as if some subconscious part of him realized what he was doing was [i]wrong.[/i] A sound from the edge of the room broke through the haze of his rage. Bellamy cried out each time he hit Tobias, but he didn’t look to see if she was trying to make her way toward them. The idea that Tobias had someone who cared about him like that only served to make him angrier. [color=995749]"At least I know what I am."[/color]

Myla couldn’t help by flinch as Luke unleashed his full, unbridled fury on Tobias. Every squelch, crunch, snap of his body beneath the super soldier’s might sent a sick chill through her stomach as if she could feel every hit through her own aches and bruises. Her hold on Bellamy tightened the moment the girl started screaming, not enough to bruise, but rigid enough to keep her in place before she flung herself into the middle of it. As the punches kept coming in rapid succession, she contemplated running in, but what the hell could she do? She wasn’t super strong like Luke, and she wasn’t a mutant. Sure, she probably could have fought him better… [i]technically.[/i] Dodged punches and shit until he grew tired but that was a gamble when one hit could put her in the hospital or worse. 

Who could even break it up? Magni… [i]Theo?[/i] The thought struck her sharp in the chest and before she knew she was doing it, Myla felt herself listening for him deeper in the tower, wondering if he heard the commotion, or if she was lucky enough, him and June were already lost in… whatever it was they were doing. The last thing she wanted was for him to get into another fight, or get hurt breaking one up, but she also knew that Tobias and Luke weren’t being particularly quiet, and somehow Theo always knew whenever anything fell apart around her, even if she wasn’t involved.

Theo, who was deep in conversation with June about the mechanics of the bracelets, [i]did[/i] feel the strangest tingle, though they’d wandered far enough away to not hear the commotion. If the two of them watched the ensuing fight on June’s phone, well… no one had to know that they [i]‘ooo’d’[/i] and [i]‘ahh’d’[/i] as they watched what unfolded next. 

Magni had been down the hall speaking to Phil when the cacophony began. He could recognize the sounds of martial combat anywhere, but knew well from the sounds of creaking metal who at least one of the combatants was. He was not particularly fleet of foot as he made his way towards the conference room. He saw the woman his partner had helped locate held at bay by Myla, and moved in to stand behind them both. As he glanced into the room, the viciousness of the fight was readily apparent. Part of him wanted to call it off, to pick them both up by the scruff like cats and take them to their respective corners. He knew well, though, that Tobias could handle himself. He had seen both men fight, but Luke was punching above his limits without the proper precaution. His face fell as he saw blows traded back and forth, friend fighting friend for the sake of bloodshed. He had expected better of them both.

Tobias was meek when they were at the Academy together. He had suffered greatly in his youth, avoiding conflict and interaction until he had taken the man under his wing. The son of a villain, he wanted a legacy and reputation all his own. He was a tempering influence on the wild godling, a reminder of the virtues of compassion and moderation. He was a reminder of the importance of peace in a universe that thrived on violence. Lucian was the opposite, for he was a man chasing a legacy that seemed too big for one man alone. He craved approval, acceptance, accolades, adoration… he wanted to live up to the expectations laid out before him and exceed them. Magni understood that weight of expectation. They were both brave, strong men of character. Now, they were beating the brakes off each other with everything they had.

Jules, for her part, settled herself with her back against the wall across the hall. The sound of wet slaps of flesh connecting with flesh, the sprays of blood… the only shame was Luke was holding his own. Reputation was everything in their line of work, and Luke’s reputation was sorely overstated. While the Stark kid had proven himself to be a self-sabotaging fool, Luke was trying to speedrun the complete implosion of his standing without so much as making a dent in the social order of the tower. Jules’ eyes remained fixed on Bellamy early in the fight, noting the hint of blush on her cheeks and slight change in posture. While Luke may have hoped to scare off the poor girl, Jules had a sneaking suspicion that Bellamy’s desire to stay by Tobias’ side was only going to strengthen. The team had common targets to focus their ire, and such a display could strengthen the bonds that were forming. Lucian Rogers was an idiot, a fool, a lecher, and a bad spy. How long before the rest of the team figured that out? If he was lucky, the heroes would be too busy drinking and fucking to spend the minute necessary to suss out his part in the grand play.

In the meantime, Jules was content with watching from her front-row seat, smirk on her face as she let the violence continue on.

Air was forced from Tobias’s lungs with every punch that hit like a sledgehammer. His body, fragile and painfully mortal thing it was, crumpled beneath Luke’s strength and force. There was no time for retaliation. Every throw of a punch, or thrust of his knee landed with a devastating weight unlike anything he had ever faced before. This wasn’t a fight for the world or humanity, but anger and humiliation. It was personal, stripping them both raw, down to the men they were beneath it all, a protector and a predator. 

Tobias tried to remain on his feet, tried to lift his arms to shield his face in a defensive stance, but it meant little against someone with strength he could not match. The last punch reverberated through his skull like a gong, spots flooded his vision, ears ringing so violently that he barely could make out Luke’s words or Bellamy’s screams. His strength gave and he fell to his knees. His body careened forward, barely catching himself with splayed hands against blood soaked tile, elbows nearly buckling beneath the weight. Sharp, wet coughs filled the heavy silence of the room and stained his lips crimson. The tip of his tongue ran along his lips, tasting the iron before spitting it out at Luke’s feet. 

Whatever part of Tobias had wanted the satisfaction of feeling Luke’s body break beneath his bare hands subsided, replaced with a calmer, more calculated fury that demanded fear, not blood. His left hand extended out beside him and every piece of metal in the room began to stir: screws, bolts, warped legs from broken chairs, and even the handle from the door. He lifted his head, blinking through the blood that dripped into his eyes to meet Luke’s gaze as he towered over him. [color=796e9c]"Know that you got this far… Because I [i]let[/i] you."[/color]

Luke stood over Tobias breathing hard through blood and adrenaline, chest heaving beneath the ruined fabric of his shirt while the conference room sagged around them in pieces. The metallic taste in his mouth thickened every time he swallowed. His knuckles ached from the force of repeated impacts, skin split across the joints and smeared red from Tobias’s blood. He watched Tobias struggle on the floor with something viciously satisfied curling low in his ribs, watched the man cough crimson across the tile and still try to drag himself upright. The sight should have softened something in him, maybe once it would have, but years of violence had trained that instinct out of him until another person’s suffering only sharpened his focus.

Then the metal started moving. At first it was subtle. A tremor beneath scattered debris. The groan of twisted chair legs dragging across marble. Luke’s eyes flicked downward just as screws and bolts rattled violently against the floor before launching upward in a storm of silver. Instinct hit him hard enough that his muscles tensed before Tobias even lifted his hand fully, battle-honed reflexes recognizing danger faster than thought ever could.

[color=995749]"Tobias—"[/color]

His hand swept through the air, fingers splayed open. All the metal beneath his control slammed into Luke, curling around his wrists and neck before lifting him up until he hovered a foot off the ground. As Tobias’s fingers curled into the palm of his hand, the metal tendrils constricted like a snake, cutting off Luke’s airways until he gasped for air. That was where he held him, in that terrifying limbo between life and death, as his other hand pushed off the ground, rocking his weight backwards until it rested on bent knees. He waited, waited for the anger to be replaced with fear, and waited for the rigid, battle-hardened soldier to kick and flail, desperate for release. 


The metal slammed into him before he’d finished the word. Steel crushed around his wrists with bone-jarring force and another length wrapped violently around his throat, snapping his head backward hard enough to make the room blur. Luke’s boots left the ground instantly. Air vanished from his lungs beneath the constriction while the metal lifted him a foot above the shattered conference room floor like he weighed nothing at all. His fingers clawed reflexively at the restraints around his neck, tendons standing sharp beneath bloodstreaked skin as pressure tightened harder and harder against his windpipe.

The room narrowed into pain and sound. Metal groaned around him while blood rushed hot through his ears in thick thunderous pulses. Tobias’s face swam before him through fractured vision, bruised and bloodied and horribly calm as he held Luke there between breaths. Luke felt the instinctive surge to fight against it, to rip free, to survive, but something uglier surfaced beneath it too… [i]humiliation.[/i] He had spent his whole life mastering his body until it became a weapon sharp enough to rival gods, and now Tobias held him helpless with barely a movement of his hand.

Still, Luke refused to panic. His body strained hard enough that muscle trembled beneath the bindings, but he never kicked wildly or begged or broke eye contact. Blood slipped from his broken nose and ran warm over his lips while his chest fought desperately for oxygen against the crushing pressure at his throat. Tobias wanted fear from him. Luke saw that plainly in the cold steadiness of his gaze, in the measured cruelty of how long he held him there. That understanding settled heavily inside Luke because he recognized it immediately; he had worn that same look himself only minutes earlier.

It was only then that Tobias let the metal around Luke’s neck loosen and fall to the ground with a heavy thud. He pressed his shoulder against the wall, using it to brace himself as he stumbled to his feet, blood pooling like ichor between his fingers that gripped at his side. He slowly lowered Luke back down to the ground, the metal shackles still holding him in place as Tobias took an uneasy step forward to meet him face to face one final time. [color=796e9c]"I know what I am,"[/color] he spoke calmly and measured through a jaw that didn’t hinge quite right and the searing pain that coursed through his body. [color=796e9c]"I’m the son of a monster. You’d do well to remember that."[/color]

Then as if an invisible ripcord tethered around Luke was pulled taught, he was yanked backwards with startling force, launched through the window, and plunged down to the bottom of the pool where the metal rooted itself into the concrete. 

When the pressure finally loosened, air tore violently back into Luke’s lungs in ragged gasps. He doubled slightly against the restraints before forcing himself upright again, dragging breath back under control while Tobias stumbled toward him through blood and pain. Luke listened silently as Tobias spoke about monsters and fathers and power, blue eyes fixed hard on the man standing before him. There was no smugness left in Luke now, no grin cutting across bruised features. Only exhaustion and something tauter underneath it, something dangerously close to recognition. For the first time since Tobias burst into the room, Luke saw something in the other man that felt horribly familiar. Calm fury. Controlled violence. The same cold certainty he had spent his entire life watching in his father’s eyes.

Tobias’s words scraped across him harder than the metal did.  [color=796e9c][i]I’m the son of a monster.[/i][/color] Luke stared at him through watering eyes and swelling bruises while blood ran warm over his lips and chin. Somewhere beneath the choking pressure, something bitter and exhausted almost laughed at the irony of it all. Of course Tobias understood monsters. Of course the only person in the room who looked at Luke with genuine hatred would also be the one person capable of recognizing exactly what had been made out of him. When Tobias launched him backward through the glass, Luke didn’t fight the pull. 

Tobias’s free hand pushed off the wall beside him, slowly turning to find an audience of faces staring back at him in all manners of shock and horror and anything in between. He couldn’t meet any of their eyes, especially not Bellamy’s, his gaze instead fixing on some intangible space beyond them. [color=796e9c]"He has five minutes before he drowns—three given his elevated heart rate… if anyone cares."[/color] He moved toward the doorway, doing his best to weave through the lingering onlookers without covering them in blood. Each step was pained and uneasy, leaving a trail of crimson in his wake like a fucked up bread crumb trail. 

When he stepped out into the hall he was met with Alfred's wide eyes assessing every injury not like someone scared, but a caretaker concerned. Before he could speak, Tobias held up bloodsoaked fingers and shook his head. [color=796e9c]"I’m going to the infirmary,"[/color] he reassured him. Then trudged down the hall and disappeared into the elevator before anyone could try and stop him. 

Myla’s hold on Bellamy eased after the window shattered and Luke disappeared beneath the surface of the pool. There was a silence that seized everyone who stood along the edges of the destroyed conference room and hall. No one breathed. No one moved. The only sound that cut through the quiet was the whistle of wind through the broken window and the choppy waves that slapped against the side of the pool and splashed over the edge. Perhaps it was cold and insensitive, but Myla didn’t rush to Luke’s aid… Afterall, what could she do? Plus, from where she was standing, and what she heard, he was lucky that Tobias didn’t kill him. If it had been her in Bellamy’s place… She didn’t imagine Theo would be so kind. 

It was only when everyone remembered to breathe that her hand shifted to rest upon Bellamy’s back, feeling the tremors rattling her bones and coursing through her body. [color=962929]"Come on,"[/color] she whispered quietly before guiding the girl out of the room. She slowed as she passed Alfred, sparing him a strained, sympathetic smile that shared more than words could. He didn’t say anything in response, just held out the tablet for her to take and gave her a small nod. 

Bellamy stood frozen while the last ripples spread across the pool below. The cool air spilling through the broken glass brushed against her face and lifted strands of hair from her shoulders, but she barely felt it. Her eyes followed Tobias instead, traced the set of his shoulders, the blood slipping steadily from his hand and side, the way every step looked dragged through pain. He never looked back at her. Not once. The realization slid into her chest with a sharpness that stole her breath, small and sudden and cruel in the way tiny wounds often were.

The thought rooted itself immediately and spread before she could stop it. She should have gotten away. She should have said something sooner, should have fought harder, should have done something besides stand there while Tobias bled for her again. The feeling settled low in her stomach, dense and heavy as wet concrete, pressing beneath her ribs until even breathing felt tight. She had spent the last two days watching people throw themselves into the path of hurt on her behalf; her parents, Tobias in the woods, Imogen in that chair, and now this. Bellamy's fingers curled hard into the sleeves hanging over her hands while guilt climbed over her shoulders and wrapped around the back of her neck like a weight she couldn't shrug off.

She moved when Myla guided her, feet carrying her forward automatically while her mind stayed somewhere down the corridor after Tobias. The world around her felt muffled, voices and movement blurring into soft static at the edges of her hearing. She kept glancing toward the lift doors, toward the trail of blood left behind across the floor, stomach rolling harder every time she remembered the sound of his fist colliding with bone or the way he had braced himself against the wall because standing alone had become difficult.

The pool swallowed Luke in a violent burst of blue and white. Water crashed over his body while the metal rooted itself into the concrete beneath him, locking him flat against the bottom like prey pinned beneath a hunter’s boot. Sunlight fractured overhead in trembling ribbons, scattering gold across the water while bubbles drifted slowly from his mouth toward the surface. He stared upward through the rippling distortion and waited for fear to arrive. It never did. Instead something softer settled into him, heavy and quiet and dangerously close to relief.

The sunlight above him became the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. He was ten years old again, standing behind Captain America while crowds stretched endlessly ahead waving flags and signs beneath a summer sky. His father stood tall at the edge of the water, broad shoulders wrapped in red white and blue while his voice rolled across the crowd speaking about peace, unity, freedom. Luke remembered looking up at the back of him and knowing even then that every word was hollow. The bruise across Luke’s back pulsed warmly beneath his dress shirt where his father had struck him that morning, the skin swollen between his shoulder blades in the exact shape of a hand.

Steve Rogers turned slightly as applause thundered around them. Sunlight caught in blond hair that looked almost gold beneath the sky, and his blue eyes cut down toward Luke with a sharpness that made his stomach knot instantly. There was no warmth there. No pride. Only expectation wrapped so tightly around disappointment that the two had become indistinguishable from one another. Luke remembered hating him in that moment with a purity so complete it frightened him more than bruises ever had.

The memory shifted beneath the water like light bending through glass. Suddenly the pool was alive with laughter instead of speeches and cameras, and Luke’s chest ached harder at the softness of it than it ever had from Tobias’s fists. It was the pool at the Academy, it was a weekend. Magni sat broad-shouldered at the edge of the water with his head thrown back laughing while Tobias splashed Thomas hard enough to earn himself a shove straight into the deep end. Imogen leaned against Luke’s side with easy warmth, her hip brushing his own while sunlight danced across her pale hair and soft smile. Someone said something ridiculous, probably Magni, and Tobias barked out this startled laugh that made Thomas nearly collapse into the pool grinning.

Luke wanted to stay there forever. He wanted that moment frozen untouched before missions and blood and betrayal poisoned all of it beyond recognition. But the memory curdled suddenly into pain, and he was younger again, sprawled across the floor with blood filling his mouth while his father towered over him. Steve’s blond hair hung damp against his forehead from training, blue eyes burning with cold fury as he grabbed Luke by the jaw and forced him to look up at him. [color=d6d6d6]"You don’t get a choice,"[/color] his father spat, and that was the exact moment something inside Luke finally split apart. That was when he buried every soft thing he loved so deeply inside himself that eventually he forgot they were still alive at all.

The water pressed colder around him now. His lungs burned sharply beneath his ribs while bubbles slipped from parted lips and floated lazily toward the shimmering surface overhead. Luke watched the sunlight ripple above him and thought distantly that maybe Tobias should let him drown. He was so tired of hurting the only people he had ever loved just because a frightened little boy still lived somewhere inside him obeying his father’s voice. His eyes slipped shut beneath the water while that old summer memory drifted farther and farther away.

The sound of splashing water seemed distant, though the pained ripping of metal from flesh was far more intimate. It only took a moment, as Luke was pulled out of the metal lashes. There was little care or safety in the rescue, the rise to the surface abrupt. In one fluid motion, Luke’s body was vaulted over the edge of the pool and skidded along the concrete. A large figure pulled itself out of the pool, crawling beside the half-drowned man to check for breathing. At the signs of spluttered gasps, Magni rose to his feet beside his old friend. He looked down on him with a conflicted furrow to his brow. He had no jest, no mirth, nor any anger in his expression. He didn’t have any words, water dripping from the new clothes that his lover had bought for him. Magni lingered, staring down at Luke, waiting to ensure his friend would live.

Were they friends? After that morning, it was clear that the son of Steve Rogers had changed since their time at the academy. He was practically a different person, a doppelganger or clone that was uncanny to watch. Or maybe… this was who the man had been the entire time. He didn’t know what could set Tobias that far. He had only ever seen him go all out to protect himself or a friend in training. To leave Luke drowning in the bottom of the pool… what had Luke done to the others? Jim’s biting words were harsh, but they were more akin to the bluster of a child. He wished he could see into his head, to know what hollowed out his friend until he was nothing more than a twisted nightmare of the memory of a friend. Was the weight of expectation so great that it twisted Luke into this broken shape? In the end, it didn’t matter. For the sake of the man he had been, Magni pulled him free. For the sake of the man he could be, Magni leaned over and held out a hand to help Luke up.

Luke stayed on his hands and knees for a long moment, shoulders heaving violently while water poured from his mouth in sharp coughing fits that burned all the way down into his lungs. Chlorine stung his nose alongside the copper taste of blood, both scents clinging thickly to the back of his throat while his soaked shirt plastered itself cold against his skin. His bruised fingers dug against the wet concrete beneath him as he forced air back into aching lungs one ragged breath at a time. Then he turned his head slightly and saw Magni standing there above him, broad and dripping pool water beneath the sunlight. For one terrible heartbeat, Luke didn’t see the man before him now, but the younger version instead, bright-eyed, warm laughter spilling easily from him, untouched by betrayal or grief.

Something twisted hard beneath Luke’s ribs. [color=995749][i]He should have let me drown.[/i][/color]

The thought came softly, exhausted and frightened in a voice that belonged to the child he used to be instead of the weapon he had become. [color=995749][i]He’ll regret this. I don’t have a choice.[/i][/color] Luke swallowed hard against the ache rising into his throat and pushed himself shakily to his feet before Magni could see too much of what was breaking across his face. He turned away quickly, taking several uneven steps toward the far exit while water dripped steadily from the hem of his ruined white shirt, blood blooming faintly through the soaked fabric near his ribs and collar. He paused only once, shoulders tight and breathing rough, before speaking without looking back.

[color=995749]"...Thank you."[/color] Then he kept walking.[/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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