Snippet #1504930

John stared up at the ceiling of the warehouse, still trying to catch his breath. He only half heard the conversations going on around him, though he probably wouldn't have been too interested in them either way. On his stumble into the warehouse, it was safe to say that he had no idea who was even there. He heard some voices and pinned a few people, but without what he called his wits about him, he wasn't sure who was missing.

A moment after he asked for a drink, a bottle of water appeared to fly across the room, and landed squarely on his chest. He had no idea that Gregory was there, and half-assumed that it was some kind of mercy from above. He gripped the bottle and spun off the top, chugging it like a drunk fratboy. He finished the bottle in no time flat, and gasped for air. His eyes shifted, but his head was either refusing or reluctant to move. He felt as though his body had turned to lead, and without his super-strength, he probably wasn't going to be getting up any time soon. He decided to ask the heavens for one more favor, since they had so willingly obliged with the water.

"Okay, now I need Charlie to give me mouth-to-mouth."

He snapped into reality as he heard Gregory began to speak, but didn't appear to make the connection between Gregory and the magical flying water bottle.

"We met some resistance. A full, well-armed patrol plus some...I don't know, shadow-clone super? She copied herself...it was confusing if you stared at them too long. I wanted her on our side, but someone decided to blast her apart as we were leaving."

"You never know, boss. Maybe he blew up another clone or something." John said, seeking to offer the poor cyborg some reprieve from Gregory's cold fury. "Besides," he added in a slow, corny accent, "Supers are like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get."

Charlie seemed to be brewing coffee, but she would probably know that John didn't want any. He didn't like the taste, or the fact that he couldn't take small sips to keep from burning his mouth. He sat on the floor and played with the now empty water bottle, crushing it to make sounds that John though were amusing. He kept one ear on the conversation at hand, and waited to hear more about some guy with a piano as Alan joined the group.