“Buddy, we’ve located the thief. We are extracting him now.”
Next to her, Juno slumps in relief. “Is he alright?”
The comms crackles as Vespa joins the call. “Bud, I need you to get the medbay ready.”
Juno nearly falls in his haste to rush back to the comms. “What? What’s wrong? Is he okay?” His hands are shaking on the comms controls and Buddy takes him by the shoulders, pulling him back.
“Rita, please take Juno to the medbay and begin preparing it for the crew’s return,” Buddy commands, pushing him in her direction.
“Wait, no, you can’t- He’s in trouble, I need-”
“Come on, Mistah Steel, we ain’t helpin’ from here.” Rita drags a struggling Juno out of the room by his hands. “Let’s go.”
The door closes and takes a deep breath before turning her microphone back on. “Vespa, what’s the situation?”
Vespa’s comms activates to the staticky sound of running footsteps and labored breathing. “Not good, Bud. Ransom’s been poisoned, I think, and he’s not reacting well.”
In the background, there’s a strange noise and one set of footsteps falters.
“Thief, you must stop struggling. I mean you no harm.”
“Get off of me,” comes Peter’s voice, shrill and desperate and scared and much, much weaker than Buddy would like.
“He’s confused,” Vespa tells her, “and we’ve got guards on our tail.” Then, fainter, “Jet, he’s got a- fuck. Ransom, drop the fucking- OW!” More clattering, then a noise of pain from Peter. “Yeah, serves you right. Jet, grab him. He’s unarmed.”
“Are you going to be able to exit the building?” Buddy asks, tapping her fingers against the edge of the table. “We have to leave soon; we can’t afford to linger.”
“Yes, Buddy.” Jet’s booming tone hardly falters even as he runs with Peter presumably in his arms. “We are within sight of the car.”
“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”
The door to the garage slides open just quick enough to make way for Jet and Vespa sprinting through. Peter’s hanging limp from Jet’s arms, face flushed and eyes rolling wildly from side to side. He’s breathing, that much is obvious, but Buddy’s afraid he won’t be that way for long. Each breath sticks in his throat, coming out in a choked, high-pitched wheeze that she’s so glad Juno isn’t here to witness.
“The medbay’s ready,” Buddy calls to them, turning and jogging to keep pace with Vespa as she charges ahead of Jet. Jet stomps along behind them, talking to Peter as he goes.
“Please keep breathing, Ransom. Juno will be very distressed if you stop, and then Rita will be distressed. I do not enjoy it when Rita is distressed,” Jet says as they come up on the medbay. Peter responds by wheezing harder.
They run into the medbay. Juno and Rita must have heard them coming, because the door is open and they’re standing off to the side out of the way of the bed and equipment they’ve prepared per Vespa’s order. Distantly, Buddy hears Juno gasp.
“Alright, set him down, Jet,” Vespa barks. “Everyone else, out of the way. You can stay in here, but just stay out of my way.”
In the corner, Juno is shaking and squeezing Rita’s hand hard enough to make both of their knuckles go white. Buddy feels about the same way, but she tries to push it down. She has to be a captain right now. Ransom gives another wheezing gasp and she takes a moment to close her eyes and breathe.
Vespa presses an oxygen mask over Pete’s face, strapping it around his ears as he thrashes weakly. Buddy’s not sure if he’s scared or in pain or angry or panicked or some awful combination of all of the above, but it doesn’t look good on him. “Alright, bastard, what the fuck did they dose you with?”
Peter, of course, has no response.
The next few minutes are filled with a strangely empty silence, broken only by Juno’s sobs, Rita’s warbling reassurances, Peter’s desperate gasps for breath, and Vespa’s cursing and clattering. She takes a blood sample, hooks a series of machines up to him, and runs a scanner over him. Finally, she procures a syringe full of amber liquid.
“Alright, Ransom, let’s unseize your fucking lungs,” she growls, and jams the needle into his chest, emptying it quickly.
At first, Peter’s breathing stops entirely. Juno cries out, but then Peter takes a deep, unimpeded breath in.
Then, it all goes to shit.
Free from the anoxic panic he’d been trapped in, Ransom jackknifes upright, ripping the oxygen mask off. Shaking hands scramble across the bed, presumably in search of a weapon, and Vespa swears.
“Jet, I’m gonna need some help here!”
Peter, confused by his lack of knives, tries to get out of bed. “Where- what?” he stammers. “I don’t…” Suddenly, he’s hit by some sort of odd shiver and he cries out in pain. “Ahh! Stop, stop, stop it, wait, no, make it stop…”
He’s flailing in earnest now, and Jet grabs him to force him back down onto the bed. “Jet, wait!” Buddy yells, but it’s too late. Peter screams bloody murder, throwing Jet off of him and stumbling out of bed. He doesn’t have the strength to stand, though, and falling to the floor only makes him panic more.
“Shit,” Vespa yells, running to him.
“Thief, you must calm down.”
“Get away from me, I’ll kill you, I promise I’ll kill you. Please leave me alone, please,” Pete sobs.
“Vespa, sedate him,” Buddy orders as Peter tries and fails again to get to his feet.
“I can’t, Bud,” she growls. “It’ll stop his heart. I’ve almost got the antidote, but I need another minute.”
Peter manages to get to his feet, one hand on the bed, and makes a break for the door. This time, Jet doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around him like a vice and pinning Peter to his chest. Peter’s yelling breaks down into incoherent sobs punctuated by frantic attempts at freedom. He kicks and punches and scratches, but even at full strength, he’s no match for Jet.
Jet picks him up and pins him to the bed, holding him down with one hand and fastening the soft restraints around him with the other. Vespa was right about the need for handcuffs on a hospital bed, then. Peter keeps screaming even as Jet steps back.
“Almost ready, almost ready,” Vespa murmurs, staring at a loading screen on one of her computers.
Peter bucks so hard against the restraints that, for a moment, Buddy’s afraid he’s going to break something. Then, Juno’s there.
Juno leans over him and Peter flinches, turning his face as far away from Juno’s as he’s able. Juno doesn’t give up, though. He grabs Peter’s tearstained face, cradling it in his hands with a gentleness that Buddy’s only ever seen mirrored in her Vespa’s eyes. He presses his forehead against Peter’s and speaks over his sobbing.
“It’s alright, honey, you’re okay,” he says, swiping his thumb over Peter’s cheek. Peter quiets a bit at that; some of the fight drains out of him. “I’m right here. I know it hurts, but you’re safe right now. You hear me, Peter?” Peter’s eyes, previously screwed shut, open and his kicking stops. “There you go. That’s it, you’re alright, love.” Peter’s breathing slows and Vespa approaches him with another syringe.
“Steel,” she says, “you’re gonna wanna get back for this.” He obliges, backing away and taking Peter’s hand. To Ransom, she says, “This is going to hurt.”
She sticks the needle in his arm and Peter screams, back arching off the bed.
“Knock, knock,” Buddy says, stepping into the medbay when Juno turns around. “How are things going?”
Juno had pulled up a chair next to the gurney when Peter had passed out from the pain. That was hours ago. Now, he’s slumped over onto the bed, Ransom’s hand in his, dark circles under his eyes. He refused to leave, even when Vespa told him that the antidote was rough on the immune system and that Peter would likely be out for hours fighting off the fever.
“He’s been in and out for an hour or so,” Juno says when Buddy comes to stand next to him. “Not lucid, though. He has no idea what happened.”
Buddy nods. According to Vespa and Jet, they’d received a concerning comms call from Ransom before he dropped off the grid entirely. They’d found a roomful of dead guards and a needle on the floor and connected the dots enough to track down Ransom, who’d wedged himself into a storage closet to avoid detection.
“That’s to be expected,” she says, laying a hand on Ransom’s leg. Even through the sheets, she can feel the fever. “Both of you did well today.”
Juno glances up at her. “What?”
“Well, Ransom performed his job admirably in the face of considerable duress and you did the same thing,” Buddy explains. When she gets another blank look, she elaborates. “Juno, I know what it’s like to work with someone you love. The way you conducted yourself today took a good deal of mental fortitude. You remained calm and did your job even when your partner was in trouble. I’m proud of you for that.”
Juno blinks at her, something like awe on his face. He opens his mouth to respond, but Peter interrupts, mumbling something and tossing his head side to side.
Juno’s focus is immediately on him. He brushes Peter’s sweat-damp hair from his forehead and leans closer as Peter’s eyes flutter open. “Hey, hun,” he murmurs. “You with me?”
Peter’s foggy eyes flit back and forth from Buddy to Juno before finally settling on Juno. “J’no? Where…? What…?” He frowns, trying to sit up and wincing at his failure.
“Easy, easy. You’re okay. A mission got a little out of hand and you got poisoned, but you’re alright now. We’re on the Carte Blanche. Everyone’s safe.”
Peter blinks slowly, obviously struggling to process what Juno was saying to him. Finally, he settles for turning his head into Juno’s hand and closing his eyes. “Love you,” he mumbles. Then, he’s gone again.
Juno waits a moment to see if he’s really asleep, then looks back at Buddy and huffs a laugh. “See? No clue what’s going on. He’ll be alright, though.”
“Yes. Yes, I rather think he will.”