Hero for Hire: Chapter 7

Eli's skin itched with anticipation. He couldn't seem to get Atlas' screams out of his head, nor the smell of burnt skin from his nostrils. He'd lost track of the showers he'd taken to try and scrub the memories from his skin.

The need to see him was a physical pull, a sickness in his chest. It wasn't enough for the hospital to tell him that Atlas was in recovery. It wasn't enough for West to tell him that they had it covered. If Eli didn't physically see his friend before his eyes, whole and alive and very much NOT on fire, he would never believe that he'd actually pulled through.

But he had to bide his time, or West would have his skin.

Once the Agent had left, Eli had been sorely tempted to immediately disobey him and march straight to the hospital. But West was already suspicious, and he knew what Eli wanted. Plus, the last news he'd heard was that Atlas was still recovering from medical shock and burns that covered nearly 50% of his body, so he'd probably not even be allowed to see his friend at all, much less be able to hold a conversation with him.

He managed to wait for two days, and he was about ready to explode.

"You're going to jog a hole through the floor."

Eli forced his leg to still and took a deep breath. His homework was spread on the desk before him, but he'd managed to stare at it for nearly an hour now. He was constantly aware of Atlas' empty desk, his bed, his clothes strewn on the floor.

"What time is it?"

Seb glanced at his phone. "Two."

Eli considered it. "Late enough."

He lurched to his feet and grabbed a jacket efore remembering a flaw in his plan. He pulled off the Program watch and tossed it on Seb's desk. His roommate started, then sent Eli a confused glance.

"What is this for?"

"It's my tracker," Eli explained as he pulled on his ragged Converse. "I'll need you to keep it on you so West doesn't know I'm gone."

Sebastián watched him, dark eyes narrowed. "You're sneaking out?"

"Move it around with you a bit so it looks like I'm still alive," Eli continued, as if Seb hadn't said anything. "If I'm late enough, bring it to the Dining Hall."

Seb didn't say anything, just glanced down at the watch in his hand. Eli went to the closet and grabbed his backpack that still held the Rift suit and gear. Just in case.

"What if he calls?"

"Ignore it. That's not out of character for me. I'll sort it out when I get back."

Sebastián sniffed before turning back to his homework.

"You owe me a coffee."

***

When Eli arrived at the hospital, his insides were shivering with nerves. God, he hated hospitals. Would Atlas be able to talk? Would he even be awake? Eli had no idea how bad it could be.

One of the four receptionists waved him over with a bored expression. Her frizzy white hair shot up like she'd been struck by lightning.

"Name, please."

"Eli Wagner."

She tapped this on her keyboard.

"Who are you visiting?"

"Atlas Beckett."

Tap tap tap.

"Relationship?"

"Friend."

"Hm." The receptionist paused, and there was a slight clatter as her fingers ran over the keys. She squinted at the screen, then peered at him through her glasses. Her voice was apologetic. "I'm sorry. No visitors are allowed for crime suspects. You'll have to contact the police department for more information."

"Oh." A surge of surprise and disappointment rolled through him. Crime suspect. "Oh, okay. Thank you."

He stepped away and wandered back to the benches by the front door, feeling somewhat ashamed. He should have known that he wouldn't be allowed to see Pyro. Of course he wouldn't. That was a supervillain, remember? And Eli had been the one to expose him.

But Eli was also a villain, by trade, and he desperately wanted to see Atlas. Another few broken rules wouldn't make that much of a difference on his record.

He reached the benches and sat down momentarily, scanning the lobby. The elevators were to his right, behind the reception desk. A large family milled around while they all checked in, receiving their visitor stickers. When they started to move towards the elevators, Eli casually got up, and slipped in behind them.

The elevator buttons each had the unit listed beside them. Floor 3 was for burns, so that was where he'd find Atlas. When the other family got off, Eli pressed the glowing three.

When the doors slid open, he tried not to shudder at the familiar stench of iodoform in the air. The starch white halls were so clean that they seemed to glow, and the flourescent lights stabbed at his eyes.

I'm here for Atlas, he reminded himself, fighting down a surge of old fear.

To his left were the locked security doors that led to the Burn Unit. There was small comm on the wall and a key scan, but the Rift didn't need to worry about locks.

Eli stepped from the elevator, and, scanning for any security cameras, turned intangible. When he slid through the doors, he sensed the blurry shape of the nurse's station. If he reformed now, they would all see him. He reached out with his mind, trying to keep his anxiety and powers under control as he sought out an escape route.

There. To the right, an empty hallway lined with doors to empty rooms instead of patient quarters.

He glided past the station and into the hall, pressing himself as close to one of the stark walls before reforming. He ignored the sharp pins and needles as his limbs came back into being and kept moving, eyes scanning and ears pricked for any approaching hospital personel. He prayed that any security cameras would miraculously miss him.

He reached the end of the hall and poked his head around the corner. A nurse was just leaving one of the rooms a few feet down the hall, and he immediately pulled back, a shot of panic spiking through him. But when the door closed with a quiet click, her crisp footfalls went the other direction. He released a held breath, and cautiously looked around the corner again.

About five doors down, there were two policemen keeping guard outside one of the rooms. They were relaxed, sitting in chairs and chatting quietly.

That must be where they were keeping Atlas. How many criminals would be held on the Burn Unit at any one time?

Eli took a deep breath and forced himself intangible again.

He walked through the wall directly in front of him, into one of the patients' rooms. He could "see" a lump of a person in the bed, surrounded by softly beeping monitors and medical equipment. He turned to the wall and walked into the next room, struggling to pick up speed. He was so tired.

He walked through the next room, then another. He had counted five rooms between him and Atlas, so two more to go. His strength was fading fast, and the prickling sensation began in his fingertips as he passed through the next room and into the last one before Atlas. He had nearly made it to the wall when he felt his legs shift back into being.

Damn it.

There wasn't enough time. He popped back into tangible existence, his skin crawling with pain. He could have sworn that it felt worse each time. His eyelids drooped from the exhaustion of using his power so many times, so close together.

He clenched his jaw and froze beneath the TV mounted on the wall, praying that the patient wouldn't notice him, or that a nurse wouldn't come in. The patient, a young woman, was sitting on the side of the bed, staring out the window.

Her arms were both bandaged to the shoulders, and Eli realized with a jolt that she was missing one of her hands altogether. Her hair was frayed and uneven, shorter on the side with the missing hand. She gazed blearily at the rooftops turned a dreary, glistening brown by the drizzle the clouds brought in.

Eli fought to regain his energy, to find just enough charge to get through that last wall. But his power curled up into his gut and promptly hid there, refusing to come out.

He flattened against the wall and struggled to breathe, his chest tight with the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

The girl shifted, and her unfocused gaze landed on Eli. She stiffened, eyes widening.

"What--" she exclaimed, her voice smoke-rasped and low.

Eli put a finger to his lips. "Not gonna hurt you," he said, fighting not to panic as he leaned into the wall. Come on.

The girl looked about ready to scream when he fell right through the wall, landing on the tile floor with a grunt. He scrambled to push himself fully out of the wall before his legs reformed into it. That had happened once before, and he had no intentions of experiencing it again.

He waited a moment in the darkened room, his heart pounding in his ears, waiting for someone to sound the alarm. He didn't know if there was anyone else in here, or if the girl would scream. He wasn't even completely certain that he was in Atlas' room.

Eli looked up, and his breath caught in his throat.

Atlas lay in the bed directly before him, his dark eyes fixed on where Eli lay curled on the floor. He didn't say anything, his lips pulled into a tight line. A thin sheet was pulled up to his stomach, and white bandages spiraled over his chest, upper arms, and neck. His face looked okay, except for his left eye, which was still stained red with broken blood vessels, and the angry red skin that reached past the bandages and twisted over his jaw.

Eli struggled to his feet, glancing at the door. It was only partially open, and the guards were still talking to each other. He darted to the side of the room that was obscured from their vision, then stared at Atlas. He couldn't help it.

He was alive.

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