Crossing Lost: Getting Here is the Easy Part

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said when his brother took the weapons bag. He was more than ready to hand it off for a while. Although he and Dean were handling the march well, they'd both be exhausted by nightfall. Even before learning about Claire and her son, Sam was glad to simply be doing something. It had been that way since the demon killed Jessica.

Sam sheathed the hunting knife and walked over to Dean to stow the beginning of wooden amulet in the weapons bag. In the process he caught a glimpse of May's photograph. Although May's and Dean's teasing made him smile, the photo itself prompted melancholy. That's what he'd wanted with Jessica. What his family had until the fucking demon murdered Mom. (No more. We're sending that bastard back to hell.)

After jamming the carving wood into the weapons bag, Sam joined the Doctor at the head of the line. Armed with the crossbow, a quiver with bolts, one of the handguns, and the knife, he really wanted to kick some ass.

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Judging from the sun's position in the sky they'd been marching for an hour since the first break. Scott was pleasantly surprised that he wasn't tiring as quickly as he had when they'd started the trek. Whatever psionics? magic? Molly had worked had gone a long way to restoring the energy he'd used the previous day. From the way Molly's shoulders slumped, though, her efforts came at a cost. Scott hoped that she wouldn't have to push herself too far because she'd helped him.

That thought prompted more worrying about all of the dangers they could be rushing headlong into: Rousseau and her traps, the Others, wild boar, polar bears, the kidnappers themselves, and everyone's favorite, the man-eating smoke monster. (And, being Mindfuck Island, who knows what else is lurking? Ninjas? The Flying Spaghetti Monster? Pirates?)

Scott's loneliness and despair doubled. It took him a moment to realize why: the absence of Ami's amusement. In just a few weeks he'd grown accustomed to her mental presence. He enjoyed making her laugh. Now her laughter was gone.

Stabbing pain suddenly shot through his head. Scott cried out and stumbled, then was completely unaware of his surroundings. (Ami!) Her shadow in the back of his mind solidified into her. Scott embraced her with his consciousness, absently noting how muzzy and unbalanced her mind and body were. The pain he felt was hers. More importantly, Ami was alive and on the island.

Joy, love, and hope overwhelmed coherent thought. As he struggled to say something telepathically, nausea joined redoubled pain and Ami was gone.

The next thing Scott knew water splashed on his face. Sputtering, he squinted up at Jon's upside-down visage. The teenager didn't look very happy.

OOC: Scott said "Ami!" aloud as well. Also, I tagged Jon because he's marching behind Scott.

From:

aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com

The Flying Spaghetti Monster?

Ramen!

From:

island-muses.livejournal.com

Faith had no trouble keeping pace with the doctor, although she suspected that he slowed down his pace due to the lowly underdeveloped humans. Another time and another place and it would have been the height of amusing. Today it was just a reminder of how weird and out of sync this island really was.

She hadn't contributed to the parental conversation, or really to any conversation overmuch. Aside from the moments she intentionally dropped in on Dean to make certain he was watching her rear – literally and figuratively – Faith didn't feel much like interacting. She knew that just went to show precisely how keyed up and pissed off she was about the whole kidnapping thing; and how much she changed and how much she'd grown attached to these people over such a short period of time. Those girls were her friends, Claire was pregnant, so what the fuck were these kidnapping fuckers up to?

Occasionally she took to the trees, trading off the scouting duties with Ripley. So far, no Smoke Monsters, no biomechanical T-Rexes and no sign that anyone had traipsed this way dragging four drugged women. On one of her sojurns from the branches, as she hit the ground her Slayer sense went off, but not in a bad way, more in a protective guardian way and a split second too late she realized why.

With a cry of Ami's name, Scott went down.

(The fuck?)

There was just enough distance between them that half the team was far enough ahead enough that Faith had to give a loud chirping whistle. "Yo! Hold up! We got a man down."

Faith reached Scott as Jon splashed water onto the man's face. She bent over to peer at Scott, dividing her attention between he and Jon. "Hey, Scotty, you a'right? What happened?"

From:

sinanju.livejournal.com

Blaise had been bringing up the rear, riding herd on stragglers and generally keeping an eye on their six. He didn't really expect an attack from behind but it never hurt to be careful. Plus, it gave him a nice view of Faith's rear from time to time when she dropped back to tease Dean. Just because he was married didn't mean he couldn't look.

Then Scott went down with Ami's name on his lips. (Swell,) was Blaise's first thought, (more psychic shit.) His second thought was perhaps Ami had managed to reach Scott--or vice versa--despite her captivity. That might be good news...once Scott was awake to relay whatever he might have learned.

Or maybe it was the first move in an ambush. Take out the psychic(s) before closing? Blaise glanced around, only then realizing that he had moved to put his back to the group and taken shelter behind the largest tree at hand to scan their backtrail and the immediate area for threats.

(Good to know the reflexes are still there,) he thought.

Blaise spared a glance over his shoulder. Jon and Faith were taking care of Scott. Blaise turned his attention back to their rear. "Anyone else down?" he called out. "Anyone see or hear anything strange?"

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Faith appeared beside Jon. "Hey, Scotty, you a'right? What happened?"

Despite his headache Scott grinned from ear to ear. "Ami reached me." Jon and Faith helped him sit up. "She's sick from whatever drugs the bastards are giving her, but she's alive and on the island."

"What else did she say?"

Scott's smile faded somewhat. "She didn't say anything. There wasn't enough time. That's all I picked up." It wasn't much, but it renewed his determination. Once Ami and the other women were safe, the fuckers who were behind this were going to pay.

OOC: Scott's able to get up and moving again. I stopped here to give sophiedb a chance to post.

From:

aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com

Dean and Sam were walking along when they heard Faith whistle. "...We got a man down." Dean and Sam both went into immediate defensive mode. Dropping everything but the weapons bag. Carrying the lighter load at the moment, Sam took the first move and went forward a bit and scanned. Dean waited for Sam's go ahead. They worked in unison very quickly until they were comfortable the area was secure, realizing the Blaise was doing the same farther down the trail, and leaving that area to him.

Seeing nothing, Sam approached the others and listened to Scott's explanation. Dean waited on guard, just in case.

From:

weirdweb.livejournal.com

OOC: Quickie since the rest of the group is still passed out on my couch. If anyone gets this before 11:30 EST (GMT +4?) and wants something to head our way, let me know or NPC Mayday. She'll either see or feel it coming and sound the alarm. Reposted because I hit submit by accident when Deb walked in.

May had opted to take the high road this time, and was in mid-air between branches when she heard Faith's cry. She immediately twisted, turned, and instead of landing on the branch, grabbed it with both hands, flipped herself up and over, and bounded back the way she'd come at top speed.

Even so, by the time she was back there, Faith and Jon were already helping Scott stand, and the man was grinning from ear to ear. "Ami reached me," he said, and May visibly relaxed a bit.

Since Scott obviously had enough help, she stayed aloft, moving towards the back of the train since Dean was watching the front. Even if it was good news, Murphy's Law inevitably dictated that if something bad was going to happen, it would choose a time like now.

"I don't see anything right NOW..." she replied to Blaise, peering out through the trees and stretching out her senses as best she could.

From:

estirose.livejournal.com

Chris shook his head at Blaise's query. He'd been in the middle of the group, studiously avoiding Faith and paying more attention to Scott. He knew that he might have to Orb the man back to safety, but he hoped it was later than this.

As Scott recovered, Chris released the breath that he'd unconsciously held. He wasn't needed yet. He hoped not to be, not in a case like this. And he had a bad feeling he'd be needed.

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Realizing that everyone was on high alert because he'd blacked out, Scott started feeling sheepish. "I'm okay," he told everyone in earshot. Jon raised a skeptical eyebrow. "As okay as before. Ami contacting me hurt like hell, but it's over with. Let's go."

The group pressed onwards after returning to their previous positions, except for Sam. The tall young man who was armed to the teeth shouted ahead to his brother and fell into step beside Scott. He glanced up at Sam, who stood three inches taller than him. "I'm all right, really."

"I know," Sam said quietly. "That's not--" He frowned, clearly uncomfortable about something. "So, you're psychic."

Despite all of the weirdness on the island, Sam's simple statement still put Scott on the defensive. He tried not to show it. "Yeah."

Sam glanced around, holding the crossbow ready as he continued. "Does it always hurt?" Scott frowned, confused. "When Ami contacts you."

Scott blinked, surprised that Sam would come to that conclusion. "No, not at all. It hurt because Ami's in pain--" the thought made Scott clench his fists "-- and from whatever's keeping her there, I guess." Sam nodded, studying Scott briefly. He didn't appreciate the attention.

Sam spoke before Scott had a chance to change the subject or otherwise distract the kid. "I need to talk to you later." Scott had to strain to catch his words. "I'm psychic... or cursed... or something."

(Cursed?) Scott lowered his shields long enough to sense Sam's emotions. The young man was uneasy, resigned, and a little scared. Scott identified all too well. He nodded. "Sure. When we stop for the night."

"Thanks," Sam smiled self-consciously. "Later." He jogged ahead and joined his brother. Scott watched his retreating back, wondering what Sam's particular brand of weirdness was.

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crap, apologies for lateness! have been offline all day..

From:

"The good news is they're alive. The bad news is we have a day and a half to get to the area Damon and Scott have marked." The Doctor saw that Scott was doing better now, and had people rallying around him.

Molly had been getting a bit red faced as they had travelled, although on the first leg she was keeping up very well indeed. Not that she was complaining, or falling behind the self appointed 'rear guards'.

They had only travelled a little further when the Doctor felt discomfort creep up his spine. It came from the back of his mind. Unease and fear.

It was something happening along the link he had to the Tardis.

*What is it old girl?* he tried to reestablish the mental contact with his exhausted ship. Not that she ever answerd him with words.

He felt the tingle, like storm charged air, bringing the hairs at his nape to stand on end. He hadn't felt this particular sensation since well, 19 days ago. When Rose near killed herself doing the stupidest stunt she had ever pulled... anyone had, really.

But he could sense the Time Vortex fully in place, safely in the heart of the Tardis and in the alternate dimensional area where it streamed through time and space.

There was a touch of reassurance and even happiness from his ship, then it was gone. Taking the sensation with it.

"You okay, Doctor?" Molly was looking at him, frowning.

It was only then that he realized he had come to a complete stop.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He assured her. No need to worry the others.

OOC: I too was away, so sorry for the scarcity of posting.

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Jon scrubbed his face with his hands, more out of resignation than fatigue. Body aside, he was really getting too old for this shit.

"Ok, Scott?" He tapped the guy's shoulder, hoping to drag his attention away from psychic #475's back and into the here and now. "Ami contacted you. She's ok, but.. under the influence. Am I getting this so far?"

Scott looked over his shoulder defensively. "Yes."

Jon held up his hands in surrender. Maybe he was coming across as just a little too incredulous. Probably, in fact. Could you blame him? Don't answer that question, he ordered himself.

"Hey, I'm part of the walking freakshow here. Normality is abnormal, I get that, and I'm really glad that she's alive and well enough to make contact, but are we headed in the right direction?" He pointed towards the trail of smoke. "You guys said that wasn't exactly the right spot, so all I'm asking is whether that's still the best we've got. The sooner we get there.."

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I'm about to leave for the evening. Chances are I won't be back tonight and all day tomorrow. Please NPC my characters. Scott would tell Jon that he couldn't tell Ami's exact location. The smoke plume is all they've got for the moment. Gotta run!

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Does anyone have more ebil/drama/angst planned for the rest of the day? If not, I suggest we skip to the evening when the group camps for the night. Just thought I'd check before jumping ahead.

From:

fikgirl.livejournal.com

I don't. Well, not for these folks.

*snerk*

From:

None from me.

From:

I do. But it's fairly short, and will be placed immediately. :)

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The pace had slowed only a bit more, to account for human endurance limits, which apparently didn't apply to Faith, or May to a degree.

A few more hours and they'd stop, stretch muscles, eat and get some sleep. He wasn't stopping until full dark descended.

But there was a danger to speed and breaking a new trail. He was reminded of it all too quickly as he tripped over when he thought was a low root. He went with a shoulder roll so as not to land on his face, when he heard the crashing of something heavy through the trees.

"TRAP." Was all he could call outas he rolled to lay flat on his back as a log bearing many sharpened wooden steaks swung down and barely skimmed over him.

He rolled clear and heard another creak , watching a bamboo wall of vegetation and spikes coming from what had been the front of the line. It was heading right for Jon and Sam.

Time slowed. Literally. Otherwise the two kids were sure to be dead. Outside the limited field of slowed time the Doctor managed to get to his feet and run, tackling both men to the ground just clear of the wall of spikes. Time resumed its normal pace.

Now the Doctor was tired as well. Manipulating time on that level was much more taxing than that little leaf demonstration weeks ago. He managed to get up and brush himself off as the boys got themselves together.

The original spiked log swung back, harmless as no one was in its path anymore. Until it, also hit a tree with an explosive crack, sending sharpened wooden protrusions flying.

“Look out!” The Doctor heard a female voice, Molly, May or Faith he wasn’t certain. But then something slammed into his shoulder. He felt like he’d been kicked by a sorka beast.

He looked down to see a wooden spike protruding from his shoulder. His first thought was… he had a hole in his leather jacket. His second thought was… oh fuck. The pain hit.

From:

weirdweb.livejournal.com

The only warning May got was a sudden flare-up just as the Doctor tripped, and the crashing sound confirmed the direction of the danger.

She was already moving as the Doctor hollered, "TRAP." From the back of the line, she couldn't see Jon and Sam, but she could see the monstrosity of spikes swinging towards the group. She lunged forward, pulling down the person in front of her - Scott? Dean? She wasn't paying so much attention as to who it was as to whether or not they were in the line of the swinging spiked log - just in time as it sailed over their heads. As it passed over them, she jumped up again, hoping to stop the thing before it swung back, maybe grab the vine or rope or cable it was attached to.

But she was too late to stop it from hitting the tree, and was forced to go higher, barely dodging the huge splinters that flew past her. She corrected her flight, grabbing for the cable with one hand (fortunately, it had no spikes) and shooting out a webline with another hand to the nearest tree. Just as she felt the line pull taut, she turned in time to see an incredibly large spike headed for the Doctor. But holding back the log as she was, she couldn't leap to his aid. "Look out!" she shrieked instead, a second before the spike pierced his shoulder.

OOC: Bah. Thunderstorms. More later, I hope.

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One minute they were tromping through the jungle, and the next was filled with shouts, crashes, and splintering wood. Before Scott could react Jon had pushed him to the ground. When he looked up from his position sprawled on the ground time slowed to a crawl. Bamboo spikes hurtled -- slowly -- toward Jon and Sam, who'd assumed defensive stances. Before the sharpened poles could reach them, the Doctor barreled into them. Scott stared, gaping from the time dilation, which ended when the Doctor hit the ground, and the traps that would have impaled him if not for Jon's quick thinking.

As Scott sat up and looked around to see who was hurt, a splintering crash resounded from somewhere behind him. A few bits of wood hit his back, but fell to the ground harmlessly -- unlike the wooden spike jutting from the Doctor's shoulder. The Time Lord frowned at the shrapnel with annoyance before falling to his knees.

"Doctor!" Scott sprinted to the taller man's side, automatically pulling his sphere from his pocket. Although the Doctor's face was taut with pain, he remained conscious. Scott knelt beside him, touching his shoulder to see how much damage had been done before removing the stake. The information conveyed by the touch was a blatant reminder of the Doctor's alien physiology. "I-- I don't know if I can heal you. Do you want me to try? I might make things worse."

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The Doctor gritted his teeth. On his knees was such an undignified position, why did he seem to end up there so often? And the big stick skewering his shoulder hurt like hell, as well.

"Don't want you wearing yourself out." He managed to grind out between his teeth. "But if someone can get this out, I'd appriciate any help getting debris out. I can spend the night in a healing trance, with the regenerator working...It'll be passible."

His face was a mask of pain for a moment, and he took some deep threaths before something akin to caalm was restored. If you didn't notice the lines of tension and strain around his eyes and mouth.

"Had worse actually. Ever fall from a radio tower? Don't recommend it." Okay, humor was flat. Pain was sharp. He could feel the first real sweat of the day break out brought on by the pain and the system shock.

"Gonna need someone with a good bit of muscle to pull this free." He was already shrugging his other arm from his jacket, causing burning agony to ripple over the wound like a wave.

"I think this is a lovely place to stop for the night. Anyone able to do a careful sweep for more suprises?" He looked over the rest of the group. Luckily it seemed he was the only one wounded. Well, he had been the one to step in it.

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"I think this is a lovely place to stop for the night," the Doctor said far too casually for someone with a large chunk of tree sticking out of his shoulder. "Anyone able to do a careful sweep for more suprises?"

"On it," Dean replied. He flashed a smile at May, who was perched on an overhead branch like a trapeze artist. "Owe ya one. Payment methods are negotiable." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's over-the-top flirtation. After exchanging a glance the brothers began a perimeter sweep. Sam took the left side; Dean the right.

In the meantime Scott had been studying the Doctor's injury and the splinter itself. Fortunately the splinter tapered to a point on both ends, so it could be pulled out in the direction it had been traveling. "I can remove it," Scott assured the Doctor. "It'll hurt like hell, so sit down."

As the Doctor did so, Scott grabbed a bottle of water from his pack. The Time Lord eyed it skeptically. "Don't wash the wound with that. There're microbes--"

"--that are dead," Scott interrupted. "Took care of that earlier." The alien looked impressed for an instant, then faced forward and closed his eyes. Scott connected with his sphere, leaving it enclosed in his fist. "Ready?" The Doctor nodded.

Scott concentrated on the wood shard. After telekinetically pressing ragged splinters against the bulk of the shrapnel, Scott yanked it out in a quick, smooth motion. The Doctor gritted his teeth, but didn't cry out as fresh blood flowed from the wound. The projectile hovered in midair for a moment before falling to the ground.

Although the triage was compelete, Scott's sphere continued to hum in his hand. He focused on the capillaries and veins severed by the oversized splinter. Scott absently noticed the Doctor's manic grin. "Well done, Scott. My healing trance will take care of the rest."

"Hold still," Scott said distractedly. "Your blood is similar enough to human blood. I'll stop the bleeding. Get it to clot." A few more moments of concentration did the trick. "Okay." The sphere's hum faded away as Scott returned it to his pocket. He unscrewed the cap to the water bottle as the Doctor shrugged off his bloodied jacket and shirt.

From:

fikgirl.livejournal.com

Faith joined Dean and Sam in checking for more traps. That one had been too rough hewn to have been created by the kidnappers, which was good. However that left the question of whether or not it had been built by The Unwashed Psycho Survivor Rejects or The Crazy French Chick. Because the brothers were on the ground, Faith kept to the trees.

Together they were able to complete the sweep with relative ease, fortunately finding nothing else. Faith deliberately dropped to the ground right behind Dean. He spun, one arm going out, the other for his weapon. Luckily Faith had been expecting such a move and had the Slayer reflexes to fall back on. She dodged and ducked beneath his arm, twisting in close and clamping a hand on the arm that was attempting to draw the gun. "Yo, chill, Hoss. It's just me.

"Sweet reflexes though," Faith added the compliment sincerely. She gave him a salacious wink, "Maybe when this is all over we'll see how good those reflexes really are."

As she turned to the rest of the group, Faith called out, "The trees are clear. So what do we think --" She stopped and noted the Doctor was removing his serious messed up jacket and shirt. His shoulder looked pretty good for having a tree trunk rammed through it. Faith grinned at Scott genuinely impressed; peripherally she'd been paying attention to his psychic mojo on the ground, but she hadn't taken time to really focus on it lest it distract her from her sweep. "You do that?"

Scott hesitated before answering, "Yeah."

"Wicked!" Faith admired. She cocked her head, remembering her earlier train of thought, "So, do we think it was Them or The Crazy French Lady that set that trap?"

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