BioSynth | ONC 2021 WINNER | MM Romance | Sci-Fi | Complete

Sixteen: Thursday

"I don't understand," Clementine said, for the third time in as many minutes. "We should have been caught!"

The crushing disappointment of not having a clue where Jax was didn't prevent Quentin from giving her a pointed look through the open visor of his helmet. She raised a hand to her forehead, or its general area over her own helmet. "That's not what I meant. I meant, why set up a trap if you're not going to catch anyone in it?"

"We know what you meant." Lara laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll keep trying, but if we didn't find him today, he—"

"Don't say it."

"Clementine—"

"Just don't." She slapped Lara's hand from her shoulder. "I know how things work. I don't need reminding."

Quentin hated leaving now, but it was close to two in the morning. Even with the messages he'd sent Ian, his husband was waiting for him back at the room and there was nothing Quentin could do to help here. Maybe Ian would know another way.

Clementine shot him a withering look the minute he opened his mouth. "You want me to drop you off. You made nice with the husband and Jax's as good as gone and there's no point, right?" Her face crumpled. "Get on the bike, I'll take you."

What could he do? Apologise, when that was a harsher variant of his exact thoughts? Better to not say anything at all. He'd taken two steps in the bike's direction when she stopped, a hand raised. Her eyes widened, narrowed, widened again. She seemed to be going through the gamut of human emotion, calibrating her expressions until she could display each one in turn.

"It's Jax," she said, whatever expression she'd settled on undecipherable. "He's been taken by a Tracker who has a BioSynth working for him." She gritted her teeth, her next words clearly meant for Jax, but said aloud, anyway. "I don't care if it's a trap, send me the coordinates now." And then, looking at them, "I have to go."

Clementine really should have known better than to think the Misfits, Quentin included, would let her go at it alone now, any more than they had a handful of hours before. He rode with her, the other three following behind in their decrepit car, hacked to be faster than any commercial latest model ever could; if he'd thought she'd driven recklessly before, it was nothing compared to what she was doing now. It took them seven minutes for a ride that ought to have taken at least fifteen.

"How many are inside?" The car hadn't even stopped completely before Xavier was opening the door.

"Just the fucker and the traitor BioSynth, apart from Jax." She jerked her head, not bothering to remove the helmet. Quentin hadn't either. "Third door past the stairs, let's go."

There was a window with the blinds open in the first room. The woman inside reacted to seeing five strangers run past, the limping one taking point, guns drawn, by closing said blinds and likely doing nothing else. This was a part of why Ian had been so taken in by the house, by its safe neighbourhood. Life in Lyz was nothing if not interesting.

Jax's back was to them, blocking the view of whoever was inside. Clever man. Clementine stopped them at the door, her voice a whisper. "Put away your guns before we all shoot each other in the back." They rushed to comply. "I'll have mine out, the rest of you draw yours when we've cleared the door."

She kicked the door in with her twisted foot and they filed in the room, ready to strike, but Quentin never did draw his gun.

Standing across from him, arm halfway to his boot, was Ian.

"Don't shoot," Quentin shouted, arms raised as he got between them. "That's my husband!"

The look on Ian's face as Quentin took off his helmet wasn't confusion or anger; it was relief. The others were shouting, but Quentin didn't hear a word, making his way over to Ian, stopping him before he reached his weapon with a pleading, "They're my friends."