Escaping ]from[ -->Hell

His eyes opened into the hazy light that filtered into the clear water in which Matt Sheehan hung suspended. Tubes wrapped about his nude waste and probed into skin at several points at the upperbody. The meta-human too in a breath through the slick, black regulator that fed him air sent a spray of bubbles upwards into the metal mesh covered tube. As he struggled to recognize the faces topping the white lab coats through the bent glass, Matt could already feel the warmth of the chemical compliance that they were pumping into his veins. The erratic excitement of his heartbeat almost immediately slowed and steadied as muscles across his body smoothed and eased as those atoms and particles bonded and found the receptors in his brain.

Just before the eyes fluttered closed he saw somebody set in front of the window, leaning in to peer at his naked form before jotting something down on a clipboard and walking away. Matt Sheehan knew that he would answer to every call and command they made, despite the scream that echoed silently out of his chest. They couldn’t control him like this.. they couldn’t just simply take his life.. but they did and they had…

There was no telling how much later it was when he woke up, strapped down against the thin, sterile metal table. The blue eyes blinked once and twice against the light and he could hear the voices entering the fog around him. Mind fought the drug induced binds that webbed over his body.

Matt could feel the weight of the suit on his body, the one they would force him to test only a few feet away. A thin layer of a tight, black, fire resistant material clung to every inch of his is body and muscle from neck to fingers and toes. Over that shined the slick metal of tubes that twisted about in smooth links to connect to what looked like a belt, elbow pads, knee pads, and violent looking silver gauntlets encasing his hands.

Several forms bent over him and he could feel the table tip upwards until his body was standing. Two of the men behind him wheeled the meta-human through the two doors and into another white walled hallway. While Matt’s mind raced against the effect of the drugs somehow he knew that, despite the daily routine, something was different. What he didn’t know was that there was one syringe, still full of that magical drug that kept him so compliant. It was one that hadn’t made it into those veins and lay unused in the room he'd just left.

As each moment passed the meta-human began to feel that fog clear and his muscles wake from the numb and behind to respond to his commands and not others. As they met the end of the hallway Matt’s head swung to the side and he gave out a long breath. He could hear one of the men attending him curse and scramble backwards as the arm flexed hard against the binds. They tore smoothly, ripping away and even bending the metal of the bed before falling down.

It seemed like a dream as his feet hit the floor with a metal clank. One of the men had fallen in a bid to escape. Matt walked over and reached down, lifting the wide eyes up even to his and speaking one sentence to the man dangling before him… “Turn it on.. NOW!”

The staffer reached around with a trembling arm and slapped at the metal square at his back. There was a soft whine and Matt fell to his knees, dropping the other man as he let out a searing cry of pain. Thin metal probed into skin at those metal joints and buried themselves down deep against where the power could be tapped.

When he finally willed down those nerves Matt stood slowly upright in the red lights that flashed through the room amidst the wail of a siren. The hot power surged down the tubes into his hands and he turned as several security officials filled the end of the hallway. Matt Sheehan, meta-human, turned slowly and brought up his palms...

It never ceased to amaze Kansas that alerts would always go off while she was in the middle of something fun. This time, it happened to be a nap. Kansas didn't like to keep a schedule, but when her plans were ruined any good humor evaporated fairly quickly.

Kansas slapped at her nighstand, blindly searching for the watch the Guild members used to keep in touch with the Watchtower alert system. When she couldn't find it she let out an annoyed groan and rolled off the mattress. After pressing the little red button on the side of the watch, the words scrolled across the screen.

"Theft from Montmayne Engineering: a prototype suit worth
more than any average slob can make in a year.
Montmayne requests both the suit and the man inside returned in one piece."

Kansas pulled herself to her feet, and began throwing on the items that made her costume. Being told not to cause too must destruction was such a drag.

Glass and concrete exploded outwards in a blaze of black, almost liquid fire and Matt stepped over the shattered edge and into the open area in the middle of what looked like a parking lot for a foreign military force. It was lined with humvees complete with mounted guns. Dozens of men in tactical gear ran out in between the cars to take cover before ducking around and leveling weapons in the direction of the meta-human.

Somewhere deep inside Matt knew that he wasn’t here to hurt anybody, least of all other soldiers, but they wouldn’t plug him into their weapons any more. A palm came up and sent a wide stream of flame to the nearest humvee which exploded upwards in a cloud of heat and melting metal. As the vehicle came crashing down in a screech of metal, the suited man had already started running into the fight and towards the blare of weapons’ fire.

A fist slammed out, covered in fire, and sent a soldier flying away. Matt twisted and brought a foot up in a roundhouse that slammed into another chest and threw a security guard spinning off to tumble over the concrete. A flurry of limbs quickly cleared a ten foot circle of destruction. Booted feet rumbled out of the jagged whole in the building behind him and at least a dozen more armed men began lining up across the lot.

Sweat slicked through Matt’s hair and a bead slipped down over his forehead to the nose. Several harsh rips through the dark material he wore and the scarlet of blood stained the slightly tanned skin beneath. The meta-human’s breath came ragged and heavy as he looked back at the men. He could feel the stores of energy rapidly depleting and the options flashed through his mind.

The strong jaw tightened and he reached out, billowing a line of fire across the ground between him and the line of guns. Still, bullets began to come through the blackish flame at random. Matt felt one graze against the shoulder and gave a low grunt of pain as he knelt and placed both of his gauntlets against the ground. There was a rumble of power and his arms tightened as powered exited downward and he rocketed in an arc upwards and away from the fight in a stream of black.

A moment later he felt another bullet hit him, driving his legs up under his body and swinging him forward. It had ricocheted off his foot with a spark and winged up against his ribs to glance off and away in another spray of blood. Blackness began to close in and Matt’s eyes fluttered as he spun out of control in the air, spinning away and downwards. His body was limb as it plummeted towards the wooded surface below, crashing through branches and the soft green of evergreen before twisting into the soft, forest ground with a thump.

Wesley Darrow sat quietly on the table of the doctor's office just outside the city limits. The independent practice clinic was well-disguised and Wes was thankful for that. If someone he knew saw him coming out of here he wouldn't have to lie... much.

Shirt removed, Wes waited for Dr. Livingston to finish his examination. This last treatment had been hard on Wes. It was the first time in a long time they had to actually stop the procedure halfway through. It had been more than he could handle and admitting that was hell on a guy like him. But still, they had managed to finish. The gene therapy wasn't exactly the same now as it was before the accident, but it did its job. But one day they wouldn't and soon after Wes would die. That thought still shook him to his core.

The elderly Dr. Bradley Livingston frowned deeply as he turned to Wesley. "I am prescribing some pain medicines and something to help you sleep. It should ease the effects of this treatment."

Wesley frowned. "Aw, come on, Doc. I told you. I'm fine," he gripped the edge of the table as the doctor gave him a hard stare. "Besides, you know I don't like taking that stuff."

"Well, this time you need to, Wesley." There was a finality to the doctor's tone and Wesley opened his mouth to argue more when his cell phone alarmed. It wasn't his normal ringtone and he frowned.

Glancing at the modified iPhone he read the messaged that came across. He was never much for wearing a watch. The whole melting thing was never fun. So he had rigged his own version of the Guild's pager.

Theft from Montmayne Engineering: a prototype suit worth
more than any average slob can make in a year.
Montmayne requests both the suit and the man inside returned in one piece.

Hoping off the table, Wes slipped his teeshirt over his shoulders. "Sorry, Doc. I have to take this," he said hurrying. He picked up his wallet and keys as the next message sounded.

Explosions reported at the compound. Black flames pouring, damage unknown. Authorities in route. City is asking for Guild assistance.

"Thanks, Doc. I will see you in a few days," he called as he sprinted out the door, ignoring the doctor's protest. He quickly threw his keys in the car before dialing Kansas to inform her that he would meet her there.

Wes set the phone on inside his helmet and released he would never make it to the facility on the ground. Thankfully it was only about 8 miles away. "Time to fly the friendly skies," he muttered a bit painfully.

Glancing around him to see if anyone was looking, he ignited the flames around his skin and propelled himself upwards. He flew toward the compound and was suddenly very thankful for fire proof clothing.

Kansas slowed her motorcycle down, skidding to a stop. She lowered her ruby-tinted sunglasses down her nose, surveying the damage to Montmayne critically. Then she sighed and revved the engine.

"I hope like hell this isn't blamed on me..," she muttered under her breath. It wouldn't surprise her if it was blamed on her, though - blow up one mobile home because of a busted natural gas line and you never live it down.

Her attention was caught by a guy suddenly go flying through the air. The flame was clearly not Wes, which meant that was probably the guy to beat down. She rocketed forward on the bike, trying to keep up with the airborn thief and not run down any civilians in the process.

It took a while but she finally tracked him to the woods. "Figures he'd go and land in a mess of pine needles and deer crap..." she said under her breath. She shut the engine off and set the glasses on top of it before venturing into the woods, picking her way carefully so she wouldn't break her freaking ankle.

When Matt impacted the ground he gave out a harsh cry of pain. He could feel the welts already growing and there was a fleeting thought as to now whether he had any broken bones, but how many he hand. Fingers dug into the pine needle covered ground and shoved him to his feet. One arm wrapped about his ribs and he spin, looking behind him. He could hear the harsh barking of dogs and finally a yelp of one on a scent. How in the hell could they track him by scent? He’d flown.. if that’s what you’d call it.. over here.

The meta-human’s face showed the pain as he held out a hand and stumbled through the woods. He.. he wasn’t going to let them take him back there. Push needles into him and floating in that tank with all the eyes and pens pouring over his body. Matt Sheehan wasn’t a slave.. he wasn’t a lab rat…. He was a marine.. No.. what was he? Who the hell was he?

His feet carried him down an embankment and he tumbled, rolling over his shoulder before coming to his feet. Matt’s ankle caught another root and he tripped, sliding downwards through the trees. A shadow flashed before him as he threw up a forearm and he felt himself collide with a body. His arms wrapped about it as his momentum threw him upright and they rolled for a moment before the flatness of a clearing came and he loosened his grip, falling away.

Kansas had been glancing around, and so she didn't notice the guy until they were tumbling to the ground. She grunted, both at the impact and the surprise, growing more agitated as they rolled. Kansas hated being surprised like this.

As soon as she was released Kansas rolled to her feet and brushed herself off. "Oh you're so dead little man! Nobody grabs me and gets away with it!" She stalked towards the clearly weakened meta, feeling her strength growing as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

"Oh you're so dead little man! Nobody grabs me and gets away with it!" She stalked towards the clearly weakened meta, feeling her strength growing as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

Matt stood up unsteadily, watching the woman with whom he’d collided. His body weaved for a moment as he straightened and brought up on hand in her direction, “I don’t want to hurt you.. anybody.” A thin line of scarlet curled down his face and wrapped about his chin fingers still cradled the cracked ribline and one foot dropped back as she moved towards him.

He was a vision of pain… blood and sweat soaked. The ragged breath slowed as the meta took in what confronted him now.

The armor’s flat screen was flashing yellow, he was getting low on power. Matt could feel the weakness just as he suddenly understood the power in this woman’s step. His blue eyes darkened slightly, but he knew that he wasn’t going to burn anybody else. He’d already caused enough pain.

"I don't care if you don't want to hurt anybody," Kansas said, gritting her teeth in irritation.

Kansas yanked the guy up by the suit he was wearing, then decided to use a little 'terminator kwon do,' something she had picked up from the movies of the same name. She slammed Matt into the trunk of a tree, then turned and threw him through a smaller tree.

"Genius that you are, you decided to steal something very valuable to Montmayne, and it needs to be returned - in one piece, too!" she growled out as she walked over to him, flinging the remainder of the sapling out of her way. She yanked him up once more, this time by the throat, bringing him down to eye level as he was - admittedly - taller than she was. "I don't like having to be careful with things - just makes my job so much more difficult."

Matt was in little condition to put up a fight and just gave out an agonized cry as she lifted him, stretching torn flesh and battered body limply. It turned to a dull groan as she thrashed him into the tree and the through him in the opposite direction. The smaller of the trucks shattered and splintered under his weight as he crashed into the undergrowth.

He spat blood and pushed a palm downwards and tried to pull his body upright. Just at that moment he was jerked hard back upwards by the fist tightening about his throat. His metal encased fingers closed about the wrist and the muscles of the shoulder and forearm worked against that grip helplessly. The super strength that might have been there to aid him had been all but used up helping him escape from the research facility.


"Genius that you are, you decided to steal something very valuable to Montmayne, and it needs to be returned - in one piece, too!"

His blue eyes moved over her beautiful face that was marred only slightly by anger and he gasped for breath in response, "It is me.. they want me.. the suit is .. " He fought for breath, feet searching for the ground gamely, "Useless without my.. blood.." There was little hope that this woman would pick up on what he was trying to say, much less believe his words to begin with.


"I don't like having to be careful with things - just makes my job so much more difficult."

His eyes darkened and the struggle of muscles stopped, just the fingers tightening about her arm again. The square chin dropped and he focused on her face, "Then kill me.. I am not going to let you take.. me.. back there."

As Wes landed he was already mid-stride, walking steadily toward the black flames that were billowing from the surrounding buildings. He frowned, the flames covering his body intensifying as he concentrated on trying to extinguish the flames in front of him. He hoped the black flames in front of him would be absorbed into his body like all other flames had. He didn't know what the effects of the flames would be or even the properties of the flames themselves.

With his face drawn in strain, he stopped. The flames surrounding him dimmed and nearly extinguished as he swayed on his feet. After a few deep breaths, Wes was back in control and his flame burst back into its normal intensity. However, the black flames seemed to be just where they were and he frowned deeply. This had never been an issue before. He'd never seen a flame he couldn't control before.

'Then again,' he reminded himself, 'I've had a bad night. I'll let the authorities handle this one..'

He glanced around, searching for Kendo. A frown was still spread across his features as he spotted her through the break in the trees. He quickly headed toward her and arrived just in time for her to threaten the man see was holding a second time.

"Genius that you are, you decided to steal something very valuable to Montmayne, and it needs to be returned - in one piece, too! I don't like having to be careful with things - just makes my job so much more difficult.""

"Kendo!" He snapped out as he approached. He sighed as the man spoke, only adding to his shitty day.

"Then kill me.. I am not going to let you take.. me.. back there."

Controlling the flames so they wouldn't burn her or the man, he laid a hand on her arm. "Easy there, She-Hulk," he said to her. Inside though, he was chuckling at his personal joke. He'd always thought of her as the Hulk with her abilities. Now if he could just find her drunk. Painting her green may be the last thing he did... but still, it would be worth it.

Inferno turned to the man in the suit. The guy hardly looked like he was able to stand let alone blow a hole in a complex. "Sorry, dude. We have to take you back. It's kinda how this hero thing works."

Kansas barely heard Wesley's first admonishment, instead choosing to tighten her grip slightly when the thief all but dared her to finish him off. Then she felt a hand on her, followed by "She-hulk," and dropped the man in black. Briefly she wondered if she should be wearing the flimsy little mask they ought to be wearing when superheroing, but dismissed it. The damn string on it bothered her more than a scolding by Six - besides, it wasn't that big a deal until the press showed up anyway.

She started pacing around like a caged jungle cat, ready to pounce and rip the thief to bits at the first sign of trouble. It was all she could do not to strike out at the surrounding trees to release some of her energy. "Don't call me that..." she said, finally calming down from 'the red zone,' as she called it. Kansas was still amped up, but now there was less danger of her removing limbs.

Matt gave an awkward cough as he gasped for breath as soon as his body hit the ground. His eyes were dark as he watched the woman pace back and forth as it waiting for any excuse to rip his head off. The heat rising from Wesley’s body didn’t seem to bother him as he pushed his tall body upwards to his feet. Again, his arm wrapped protectively about his rips and Matt willed away the shaking muscles at his knees as the fatigue threatened to fog away his consciousness.

His face turned towards the flaming man and he paused, trying to take in the fact that there was a man on fire in front of him before clearing his throat, “Hero thing?” Eyes searched for a moment and he let his right foot drop back a step, “You two are supposed to be heroes?” Matt’s mind struggled with a way to actually tell the man and he tried to whip the back of the gauntlet of his mouth to draw blood from the corner, “Does that include returning me so they can plug me full of …”

His voice died slightly and Matt fell to his knees, head dropping slightly in defeat as he knew that even if he was strong enough he wasn’t going to do anything to harm either of them, hero or not. The anger and violence that had ignited his escape was lifting from him only to leave the heaviness of the freedom he was about to loose, “I am a prisoner there.. this suit.. “ One gauntlet closed about one of the linked, metal tubes on the other arm, “It uses me as a weapon.. “

Kansas shot an annoyed look at the guy when he asked if they were the heroes. "Of course we're the heroes! Not every hero has a stupid cape or unrevealing difficult to fight in suit." She felt along the inside of the belt she was wearing until she found the cheap domino mask she stuck to the leather and put it on. "That better? Jeez..." She crossed her arms and turned her head away in an annoyed manner, continuing to complain quietly to herself.

Kansas was barely listening to what he was saying, which wasn't uncommon with her, and when he was finished she turned back to him. "I mean seriously!" she burst out. "We kick ass in this town - have you been living under a rock your whole life? I just.." She once again crossed her arms and turned her head, this time in the other direction. "Whatever... If ass needs to be kicked I'll be over here...," she said lowly before going to lean against a nearby tree.

Wes couldn't help the smile at Kansas' annoyance with the tiny thing she called a mask. That was the good thing about keeping his body on fire... He didn't have to wear a costume. It was really hard to get any solid features when the person in front of you was a living being of flames. Not to mention, it looked really cool. Even after all these years. Kansas on the other hand... She despised what she was forced to wear.

Wes pulled the flames back some, the heat practically non-existent though the flames still pulsed around him. Again, Wesley smiled as the suited man tried to process the fact of what Wes was. It was always entertaining.

"Hero thing? You two are supposed to be heroes? Does that include returning me so they can plug me full of ... " His voice died slightly and the man fell to his knees. "I am a prisoner there... this suit... It uses me as a weapon...“

Wes watched the man fall. As much as he wished he could leave the man there for the authorities, Wes couldn't leave him crumpled on the ground in good conscience. Kneeling down he placed an arm under the man's and helped him to his feet. It took barely any concentration for him to reel in the flames and keep them from burning the man. He knew it simple felt cool to the touch.

Even as Kansas commented, Wes steadied the man and stepped back. "She's right. We have seen nothing that would help us believe you aren't a bad guy. So," Wes said, rubbing the back of his neck. "What do you expect us to do?"