Firebug: Ch. 36 - The Bunker

Theo's head was still spinning when a heavy canvas sack was shoved over it. Being thrust into total darkness without warning was absolutely disorienting, not to mention it nearly made him cack himself. Roman's muffled swear and the sounds of a struggle echoed from the other side of the theater; a clear indication he was given the same treatment. Naturally, Theo made a valiant attempt to remove the smelly sack from his person. His efforts were rewarded seconds later by hands - strong as iron and big as Christmas hams - pinning his arms behind his back.

None of this made any sense. Madame Phoenix had agreed to offer Roman sanctuary. Why, then, was she treating them like prisoners?

"Relax; you aren't in any danger," Madame Phoenix's soft, wheezy voice promised, "I've agreed to protect you... but that doesn't mean I trust you. Quickly now. The night is fading fast... and so am I."

The uneven click-clack of her crutches moved closer, down from the stage and out toward the main exit. Theo was released seconds later with a hard shove, forced to follow her blindly by a rough prod between his shoulders. The dull pain lancing through his bruised forearms was proof enough that fighting back was futile. Theo trembled with every stumbling step, though. Not knowing where she was taking them, nor what would happen once they arrived.

The painful balloon of anxiety swelling in Theo's chest abruptly deflated when a set of cool, strong fingers brushed his hand. It was only for a second, but he recognized Roman's touch instantly. His fingertips crackled as they searched for Roman's hand again, timid and guarded. Roman found him first, however. His fingers interlaced with Theo's automatically, squeezing the Brit's smaller, quaking hand for comfort. Refusing to let go.

That was all Theo needed.

Roman's hand never left his until the sacks were finally tugged off, allowing them to see their destination. To be fair, Theo wasn't expecting Buckingham Palace. Still, the so-called "warm and dry" place Madame Phoenix led them to was severely lacking, especially considering it had taken over an hour to get there. For one thing, it wasn't very warm. Theo's breath plumed in a cloud before his face, testament to the fact that one could hang meat from the ceiling.

It appeared to be an old underground bunker. Theo had heard they existed all over America since the start of the Cold War, but he never really believed it until now. The walls, floor, and uncomfortably low ceiling were solid steel, forming an impenetrable metal box no bigger than a standard garden shed. It had no windows and only one door, which opened via a large iron wheel like a submarine hatch. There was no real furniture at all; just a single cot, a large plastic bucket in the corner (absolutely revolting) and three massive wooden shelves lining the walls.

Not an inch of space was wasted upon the latter. Each was stuffed to the gills with camping gear, bottles of water, a chemist shop's worth of medical supplies, and copious amounts of tinned foodstuffs. Theo tried to read the labels on them - mostly to determine if they were still fit to eat - but he had little success. There was merely a single bulb on a chain to see by, and it produced hardly any light at all.

"If you're hungry, help yourself to anything you want," Madame Phoenix rasped, nodding to the shelves from outside the bunker door, "Try and rest while you can. We'll talk tomorrow."

Theo barely had time to think before the door abruptly closed with a solid clunk. He didn't hear a lock engage, though, which he took as a good sign. That meant they could come and go at will. Theoretically, anyway. A small comfort, considering they really had nowhere else to go. Whether the door was locked or not, they were trapped. Sealed together in an oversized steel coffin.

"Cozy," Roman mused, his arm curling around Theo, "Dontcha think?"

Theo stared up at his boyfriend, incredulous. "Compared to the Tower of London?" he remarked callously, "Sure. Add a spot of paint, some throw pillows, maybe an area rug, and it's practically a honeymoon cottage."

"Bello, chill," Roman's hands moved to Theo's shoulders, kneading the tightly knotted muscles in them, "Beggars can't be choosers. I'm not saying I want to sign a lease. Just trying to stay positive here."

Theo sighed heavily through his nose, his eyes rolling back in his skull automatically. It was impossible to stay angry at Roman. Especially not while receiving such a heavenly massage.

"Sorry," he murmured, "I suppose... it does have a certain charm. And it's only temporary. Just until we clear this whole wanting-you-dead mess up."

Roman's hands squeezed painfully hard, forcing a surprised grunt from Theo. "What if we can't?" he whispered, his breath hot and full of uncertainty in Theo's ear. "What if the Hydros find me? Or worse: what if the Pyros figure out what I am? What if they try to kill me, too?"

"They won't," Theo spun around in Roman's grip, hugging his boyfriend tight, "I won't let them singe a single hair on your beautiful, ruddy head. Besides, if anyone wishes you harm, they'll have to get through me first."

Roman let out a laugh; a small, dry, nervous sound. "My hero," he grinned, pecking Theo on the lips. "Where would I be without you?"

Theo's eyes fell level with Roman's chest, swallowing past the thorny knot of guilt in his throat. "Probably still in the dorms with Luna, outlining the next issue of the school paper," he mused darkly, "Seems I've brought you nothing but trouble since we met. Some hero, eh?"

Roman's cool fingers gripped Theo's chin, tilting it back up until their eyes met. He still seemed terrified beyond reason, but he kept it hidden behind a mask of stony calm.

"Theodore Martin Quill, you are the very best thing that has ever happened to me," he said, "Life's been one hell of a scary, bonkers adventure since we met... but I don't regret a second of it. You shouldn't either."

Theo's face stretched in a shy, appreciative smile, overwhelmed by the love in Roman's eyes. As frightened as they both were, they still had each other. No one could take that from them. Not even a half-mad Hydro assassin.

His lips brushed against Roman's softly, as words alone didn't feel sufficient to show his gratitude. Roman returned it in kind, along with a few extra. Each longer and more passion-filled than the last. They abandoned speech altogether, communicating solely by touch, kisses, and looks. In a blink, Theo and Roman were on the cot.

"Are you... quite sure you want to do this?" Theo puffed in between feverish kisses, "Here? R-Right now?"

"Why not?" Roman said, punctuating his sentence with a soft, sensual growl, "After everything we've been through tonight, I need to let off a little steam."

Soon, the frigid, dark little bunker felt much warmer than before.

***

Theo awoke some hours later, not even aware he'd dropped off to sleep again. His and Roman's clothes had migrated to the ceiling overnight, suspended on a sturdy cotton laundry line to drip dry. Roman's handiwork, clearly.

The thoughtful thing sat on the floor with his back to the opposite wall, swaddled in a spare blanket and eyes glued to a pot balanced on a small, rickety camp stove. Its flickering blue and white flames cast dancing shadows across Roman's face, deepening the worry etched in it. He seemed deeply lost in thought, only stirring the pot's contents every few minutes. Whatever was in it smelled quite good. Or perhaps, Theo was simply that hungry. Roman could've been boiling old shoes for all he knew.

Theo arose from the creaky cot with a low, sleepy groan, shivering from the shock of chilly air hitting his bare skin. His hand automatically moved to his neck the moment the sound left him, his face twisted in a pained grimace. Theo's throat was absolutely on fire. It even hurt to breathe. Swallowing was out of the question, as it only sent fresh waves of burning pain rushing down his esophagus. Adding insult to injury, his head was bloody killing him. It felt like a worn-out toy drum being brutally pounded by a sugar-crazed toddler.

Theo could count the times he'd been ill during his lifetime on a single hand. In fact, he couldn't recall ever being sick since he'd started primary school. Sick or no, it was clear Roman needed him now. There would surely be time to flop about and feel miserable later.

As his clothes weren't yet dry, Theo wrapped himself up in the scratchy wool blanket covering him. Not a minute later, he was on the floor, snuggled close to Roman's side.

"Morning," Theo grumbled, kissing Roman's bare, brawny arm through the blanket covering it. "Sleep well?"

Roman blinked rapidly a few times, tearing his surprised gaze from the camp stove at long last. "Hey," he answered, flashing a wan little grin, "Not really, no. Don't see how you could. So damn cold in here."

Before Theo's aching head could concoct a clever response, his entire body convulsed suddenly with an explosive sneeze. Roman jolted in place beside Theo from the loud noise, his eyes wide with surprise and concern.

"Gesundheit," he blurted, "Wow: I don't think I've ever heard you sneeze before. Are you okay?"

Theo shrugged it off, scrubbing his nose on the blanket. "Aside from being a bit sore, I'm tickety-boo," he lied, "It's just dust. Nothing to worry about."

For the moment, it seemed Roman believed him. Either that, or he was simply too preoccupied to hear the frog in Theo's throat. After sitting together for a long while in comfortable silence, Roman broke it with a heavy sigh.

"Madame Phoenix came back while you were asleep," he said, "She's started negotiations with the Hydros. Trying to get them off my back without starting a war. Apparently things are slow going. She mentioned something about a trial... I didn't really understand it all. The long and the short of it is that we might be stuck here for weeks. Maybe months."

Theo huddled closer to Roman, clearing his throat to chase away a building cough. "Bugger," he sniffed, "Well, at least we have plenty of food and supplies. Finding a way to pass the time will be the real challenge. Don't suppose there's a deck of cards in here, or-?"

His train of thought derailed and crashed violently when Roman jumped to his feet without warning.

"This sucks!" Roman snarled, "We can't stay here! Hiding like a little bitch is already driving me insane!"

"We're not 'hiding'," Theo argued calmly, "Cowardice has nothing to do with it. We're simply... laying low. Increasing your chances of survival."

Roman tore at his unkempt dark waves, kicking an empty soup tin on the floor in frustration. "If this is survival, I'd rather just give myself up to the Hydros now," he said, an edge of frustration and annoyance sharpening his tone, "Seriously, whatever they want to do to me can't be worse than rotting in a deep, dark hole!"

"They want to kill you," Theo snapped, "Being buried alive is no picnic for me either, but I much prefer it over your death! I've already lost one soulmate; forgive me if I'm not bloody eager to lose another!"

Theo buried his face in his blanket to muffle a coughing fit, pressing his lips tight together to try and hold it in. He didn't realize how harshly he'd spoken until he looked up again and saw Roman, sitting glumly on the cot.

"Okay, I probably deserved that," Roman muttered, "I'm sorry, Bello. I just... hate feeling like this. Like... I can't do anything, except wait for other people to make a move. This is my life; I should be in charge of what happens in it."

Theo's heart ached for Roman a thousand times over, fearing it would burst from grief. He kept it together as best he could, though; falling to pieces now would solve nothing, after all. In silence, he looked down at the pot of soup between them. It was bubbling, so he grabbed two tin cups off the shelf and divided the soup between them. Gathering his thoughts the entire time. Then, with a heavy sigh, he sat down next to Roman and offered him a steaming cup.

"You've nothing to be sorry for," Theo insisted quietly, leaning his extremely heavy head against Roman's shoulder, "My childish outburst was totally uncalled for. Whatever you're feeling right now is completely valid and within reason. There is nothing we can do... except to be here for one another. And trust that everything will turn out alright."

Roman's jaw tightened, his fingertips creating little dents in the metal cup he gripped it so hard. "What about school?" he asked, "My grades are good, but every day I miss is another blow to my GPA. Not to mention the paper isn't getting printed without me, and the student council can't run without its president. Any tiny chance I had of getting a scholarship for a decent college is getting smaller by the day, too. Then there's Mr. Yao, who will definitely fire me and kick us both out if I keep flaking on shifts. And our parents-"

"Romeo, stop," Theo gripped Roman's blanket covered knee with gentle firmness, looking up at the taller teen sternly, "Breathe. Please. None of that matters in the grand scheme. Not as long as we've still got each other."

A dry snort burst from Roman's throat. "Can't argue with that, I guess," he muttered, sipping his soup with a sour frown, "College always felt like a pipe dream for me anyway. Ever since I could walk, Nonna's been grooming me to take over her restaurant. I just hoped to avoid a future that depended on pepperoni and living paycheck to paycheck."

Theo let out a dizzy little giggle at the notion, only half aware he was laughing. "I like pepperoni," he mumbled, "Running a restaurant together sounds quite nice. Better than... being cooped up in... s-stuffy old office all day."

When Theo's giggles slowly morphed into an uncontrollable coughing fit, Roman looked down at him worriedly. The back of his hand lightly brushed Theo's cheek, but he immediately recoiled with a yelp and shook out his wrist.

"Holy shitballs! Bello, you're hot as Hades!"

Theo blinked at Roman, still a bit dazed and breathless from coughing. "Thanks," he rasped, "You're quite fetching, too."

"No! I-I mean... thank you," Roman stammered, wincing at the blisters forming on his knuckles, "Theo, are you sick? Why didn't you say so earlier?!"

"It's nothing," Theo insisted, waving Roman's worry off weakly, "Just a little cold. It'll pass. I think. Anyway, I feel fine. Mostly."

"Well, you don't look fine," Roman argued, "Drink your soup and lie down. That's an order!"

Theo's appetite was quickly waning, but he did as he was told without complaint. The hot soup was soothing on his throat at least, even if swallowing was murder. After stomaching all he could, Theo curled up in the fetal position under his blanket. Despite the raging fever Roman claimed he had, Theo was positive he was freezing to death. An odd sensation, as he'd never been that cold before.

All the while, Roman was tearing through the shelves of medical supplies. Every second that passed his search grew a little more frantic, until he was chucking medicine bottles and rolls of gauze aside. After a few minutes, he stepped back with a deep, frustrated growl.

"I don't believe it: all these supplies and not one bottle or box of cold medicine in sight," he grumbled.

Roman hesitated for just a moment, staring at Theo in deepest worry. Then, with no warning at all, he threw his blanket of modesty over Theo and snatched his clothes off the laundry line.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm going out to get you some meds."

"Romeo, No!" Theo sat up far too quickly, groaning as his aching, woozy head forced him to lie back down. "Stay," he begged, "T-Too dangerous."

"I'll be okay," Roman promised, "Just go back to sleep. I'll be back before you know it. You won't even miss me."

Theo tried to beg Roman not to leave, but no sound dared to slip through his burning throat. He heard the heavy door swing open with a loud metallic groan, swallowing up the quiet whimpers of protest he did eventually muster. In a heartbeat, it shut tight behind Roman again.

And just like that, Theo was alone.