Shaun and Nolan - Mojoverse

[ax_herald]

Shaun comes to the rescue!


Gilmore knew that something was weird from the very beginning. It wasn't the big apartment, or the wild neighbors, or the zany situations he found himself in, or even the inordinate amount of time he spent in Jester's apartment instead of his own. In fact, all of that seemed very normal -- though he did feel like something, or someone, essential was missing. No, the weird part was how a part of his brain always felt "on," like it did when he touched a machine and it unfolded all of its inner workings for him. He didn't know what it was, or why it was. That feeling was just there, sort of whispering to him, telling him secrets. Eventually, Gilmore gave in and listened.

That was how he got here, building a device late at night in his broad, brightly-colored living room for reasons he didn't truly understand. It was small and fit in the palm of his hand, and had a couple of dials and switches on it, and contained a tiny, powerful amplifier of which Gilmore was particularly proud. He wasn't sure what it was going to do, but he knew that it was going to shut off whatever had permanently turned his mutant power to the "on" position. The night was silent when he finally switched it on. No loud music coming from Bobby's place, no late-night workouts at Thor's, no wild antics at Jester's. No background music and reactions to everything they did (which were such a normal part of life he didn't notice them). No one was watching, so Gilmore flipped the switch.

The first thing he realized was that the little thing bothering him for days was a microchip, an incredibly tiny one, that had been sitting just below his skin. But Gilmore didn't have time to process exactly what that meant, because an instant later, the entire world changed.

Everything came flooding back. Earth, school, his parents, Mollymauk, Vox Machina, Gilmore's Glorious Goods... "Nolan!" Shaun gasped in a panic, gripping one hand around his forehead as everything he knew and loved snapped back into place in his memories. Nolan wasn't here! They were supposed to be together! Where had he gone? Shaun was off the couch in an instant, grabbing anything that might be useful and shoving it in a rucksack. He had to go, he had to get out of here, and he had to go fast. Something told him he didn't have much time before someone -- who?? -- discovered that he'd broken away from the influence that kept them locked in these strange fantasy lands.

And he had to find Nolan.

On his way out the door, into the night that he now could see was artificial, past the houses that were really just pasteboard and paint facades, Shaun only paused long enough to turn the amplifier up to the maximum setting. When Jester, Thor, and Bobby woke up in the morning, they'd remember themselves, too.

* * *

Nolan reclined in his chair, his back to the impressive array of black glass computer monitors on his desk, his attention wholly focused on his colleague as the tall Black woman told him of her successful arrest of their latest suspect.

"Just where your vision said," she admitted reluctantly. "Maybe your mutation isn't so bad after all."

"My hacking isn't either," he assured her dryly, and spun his chair around just enough to hit a key and bring a file to the front of the computers. "All the proof the DA will need that he was embezzling from his company."

The woman smiled tightly. "Thanks, Ross." A pause, and, "Partner."

With that, she turned to leave. Nolan watched her thoughtfully, even as The Who's I Can See For Miles started playing in the background.

The music was Shaun's cue. He locked the carabiner into place, secured the final strap, took a deep breath, and stepped off the roof.

For what felt like days, but was probably only a few hours, Shaun had been sneaking through the backdrops of the weird false-front world he found himself in. The evidence all around him, combined with some vague memories of a creature named Mojo showing up at the school, made it very clear that the world was very much like a television show -- but a fully automated, crew-less one. People did live in this world, but he encountered them very rarely, and he worked hard to stay out of sight. Instead, Shaun let the machinery guide him.

The screens had been the key. Shaun found a few flickering advertisements for different programs, and when he saw the briefest glimpse of Nolan's face on a dark and shadowy procedural commercial, his heart leapt. Finding the right set was a stroke of luck; apparently the little worlds for all of his fellow mutants had been build fairly close together. Nolan's was a dimly-lit cityscape built mostly vertically, and once Shaun had identified the set where Nolan spent most of his time, it was practically swarming with other "actors." Were they friends? Were they enemies? Were they willing participants in Mojo's weird televised games? Shaun had no way of knowing, so he convinced a freight elevator contraption to take him high up into the rigging where he could watch and wait.

Soon it became clear that the only way to approach Nolan without being seen was to appear at his window, after the show shifted the scene away from his "character." Shaun only had a few minutes before another scene might start again, so he had to work quickly, fashioning himself a harness and pulley with the set equipment at hand. He didn't really plan a way back out. Nothing mattered as much as getting Nolan back. Once they were together, they could face anything... and finding him was worth the nervous flip in his stomach as Shaun started to lower himself down the side of the office building set until he reached the faintly-lit window in front of which Nolan sat.

A light tinkling knock at the glass, and Shaun peered in, hoping that Nolan would know him on sight, but sickeningly afraid that he wouldn't.

Nolan turned towards the window in surprise. The music was still playing, and nothing interesting ever happened after the music played. It was the way things were. He just went home to his small apartment, had dinner, and slept. Handsome young men certainly didn't show up in a harness outside his window, looking hopeful and apprehensive in a way that made Nolan's heart skip.

He frowned, but stood from his chair and crossed over to open the window. "Can I help you?"

There was no recognition in Nolan's eyes, no trace of the tiny smile that he almost always had when they saw each other. Nolan looked at him like he was a stranger, and Shaun felt hollowed out from the inside. For a moment, he couldn't speak, and just gazed at Nolan with naked longing. He hadn't prepared himself for how this was going to feel.

Maybe there was something he could say, though, that would warm Nolan's heart enough to trust him, even if only for a minute. They'd bonded once over some absolute nerdery, right? Maybe they could again. Shaun took the chance. "I'm Luke Skywalker," he said, with a small, crooked smile, swinging his feet over the window sill into the room. "I'm here to rescue you."

Why would a look on a stranger's face make Nolan's heart clench so tight? Perhaps he ought to blame the lingering after-effects of his earlier vision. Maybe the stranger was a vision. What were the odds that a madman would be swinging down the side of the building in a harness? And there was no doubt that he was mad, given his words.

"Why don't you come in, Mr Skywalker," Nolan replied dryly, moving out of the way. Get the madman to the relative safety of his office, get the window closed, then get him help.

What kind of Hell universe was this where Nolan didn't understand Star Wars references? Shaun's little smile faltered as he slid himself through the window and got his feet on the floor. Something felt off, unbalanced, and he realized that he fully expected Nolan's hand on his arm to steady him. Touch was so simple and casual between them; when Nolan stepped back, it was like missing a stair or the ground tilting under him. This was so wrong. Shaun hated every second of it.

"I have something for you," he said abruptly once he was on his feet, and pulled his rucksack around to dig in to one of the pockets.

Nolan wasn't a field operative, but he'd still gone through basic training, and a madman reaching for something inside his bag was definitely cause for alarm. "Whoa," he let out, stepping closer and putting a soothing, halting hand on the man's arm. "Why don't you take a seat, make yourself comfortable. I'm sure my colleagues would like to see what you have, too." His very armed colleagues.

Shaun went stock-still, stunned. He blinked first at Nolan's hand on his arm, and then looked up, meeting those blue eyes he loved so much with a deep and needful pleading. "Nolan," he said softly. "Please. Just trust me. Just for a minute."

This made no sense. "How do you..." Know my name, Nolan wanted to ask, but something about the look in the man's eyes stopped him. "Who are you?"

"My name is Shaun Gilmore," he answered, though it was painful to have to say that to Nolan, the person who had practically given him back his first name after years of being known by the other one. "And you aren't going to believe me, but you're the most important person in any world, to me.

"You have visions. I bet your colleagues know that, but they don't know that you have seizures every time you have one. You think you look weak afterward and you don't want anyone to see that." Shaun tried to smile, but he just couldn't seem to make it happen. "You make the best scallop risotto I've ever had. You can't sleep anywhere without waking up with unconquerable bed-head. You have impeccable fashion sense, but you've weaponized it against predictable people who want you to fit in their mold. You're Nolan Ross, and I love you, and I'm asking you to trust for one minute that would never, on my life, do anything that would cause you to come to harm."

Nolan was frowning as he stared at - Shaun Gilmore. Whoever he was. "I - I don't have seizures," he replied, with a frown. The visions did take a lot out of him, but he couldn't imagine what it would be like if he seized every time he had one. But everything else... everything else he said about Nolan was true.

And this young man - Shaun Gilmore - professed to love him.

Nolan wasn't even out in the precinct.

"How do you know me?" he asked, but his hand had slipped from Shaun Gilmore's arm, leaving him free to reach into his bag.

And Shaun went for it, the moment that he thought he could. He knew it was a risk, knew how dangerous he was going to look, his hand diving into the pocket of his rucksack to grab a small electronic device. It looked strange and cobbled-together, smaller than a television remote control. In fact, Shaun thought in the seconds as he yanked it out and went for the controls he'd designed, it probably looked exactly like a homemade explosive.

Biting his lip, Shaun didn't dare say more. He pressed at the dial that would turn the amplifier all the way down and only affect Nolan's microchip, and stabbed at the switch with a shaking fingertip. There was nothing glorious or heroic about that moment -- his hands trembling and his fingers clumsy, his words caught in his throat because Nolan's confusion hurt like Shaun hadn't dreamed it would -- but it was all that Shaun could do. The electronic pulse that the device emitted made contact with the microchip under Nolan's skin, shutting it down for good.

Nolan blinked, frowned, then instinctively reached for Shaun as the memories flooded him. His pulse quickened; his breath shortened. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, his gaze focused on Shaun again, and Nolan wrapped his arms tight around his boyfriend. Everything felt impossible right now; memories that weren't his, and yet were. But like in Yorkland, they'd found each other - or rather, this time, Shaun had found him. Everything felt impossible, apart from Shaun. "Shaun," he whispered, love and relief mingled in his name.

Shaun barely managed to choke out Nolan's name before practically leaping into his boyfriend's embrace, wrapping his arms around Nolan's back and pulling him close and tight as he possibly could. Never in his life had he imagined that fifteen minutes could hurt so much, that he would be so dependent on one person knowing him, that one man's love could balance and sustain him body and soul. The microchip inhibitor was forgotten, dropped on the desk chair in Shaun's rush to have the man he loved in his arms again. "Oh thank fuck," he whispered, burying his face in Nolan's shoulder.

"Hey," Nolan said softly, comfortingly, because the desperation in Shaun's embrace cut through the confusion, forced him to focus on what he could do, right now, for his boyfriend. He moved a hand to Shaun's hair, petted it as they kept on hugging. "I'm here. I'm - I'm sorry, I'm here now."

Gulping down a breath, Shaun stayed motionless for a long moment, just clinging to Nolan as tightly as he could. But it was all right now. Nolan's fingers were in his hair, Nolan's voice was gentle and quiet in his ear, and things were as they should be.

He drew another breath, and lifted his head, turning to capture Nolan's mouth in a fierce kiss.

Nolan met that kiss, of course he did. It wasn't the sort of kiss, or moment, to leave him a choice in the matter. Shaun being Shaun didn't leave him a choice in the matter. Everything was impossible, but Shaun was inevitable. Gloriously so. And the kiss served to hold everything else at bay for a few more seconds, as Nolan's fingers carded through Shaun's hair and he lost himself to the feel of him.

He cut it shorter than he wished he had to, his breath a little short. "Can you get us out?"

"I'm gonna be straight with you," Shaun admitted, equally breathless, his fingers clutching the back of Nolan's shirt, "I did not think that far ahead." Getting Nolan back had been his sole focus, driven by his emotions as usual. Now that his heart was satisfied and he was steady on his feet again, Shaun should probably start using his head.

Before Nolan could get nervous, Shaun added quickly, "But I don't think there's any cameras back there--" he thumbed toward the open window "--and I don't think they can track us without the chips. Maybe we can just... become ghosts."

"Okay." Nolan nodded, a small, pinched frown on his brow. They were at threat of discovery any second, with Shaun having no place here. He hugged his boyfriend again, brief but heartfelt. "Ghost now, plan later." Then he pulled back and headed towards the window, looked at the obvious fakeness of the set (his life - another fake life), and up at the rigging where Shaun's harness dangled.

Tracking. Yes. Nolan pulled his phone from his pocket and unclasped his watch from his wrist, abandoning both on the desk. He picked up the device Shaun had left there. "And this?"

"Oh, she's coming with me," Shaun crooned, reaching over to pluck the device from Nolan's hand, casting it a fond glance before sliding it back into his rucksack's pocket. "Just in case we need to liberate any more ghosts."

He had unfastened the harness he'd rigged up, and offered it over to Nolan to strap in. "Get safe down to the ground. It's not as far as you think it is. Once you're okay, I'll pull it back up and come on down. Okay? Trust me. It's Gilmore-made, so it's Gilmore-safe."

"I trust you completely," Nolan assured him, already figuring out how to get into the harness. "What's down there?" He was a lot less confident about their surroundings than he was about anything Shaun had made.

Shaun didn't know how to describe it in a way that would be helpful, but he'd spent enough time among the theater kids in his old high school to know one thing. "Backstage," he answered wryly, taking a moment to fasten the harness' buckle as an excuse to be close to Nolan for another second. "Rigging and props and the bones of the sets. Sawdust and a lot of shadows. It's creepy as fuck, and I'm glad I don't have to wander through it alone anymore." Shaun quirked a half-smile, reaching out the window to grab the heavy-duty rope he'd used to rig their escape. Even if he had no idea what they were going to do next, at least he and Nolan were together. Nolan was a certified genius, and Shaun was creative. Together, they'd figure something out.

"Thank you," Nolan said, even as he turned around to let Shaun snap the rope onto the harness. He turned back to him and tugged him close enough for a short kiss, and when he pulled back, his lips were curved in one of his usual dry smiles. "For coming to rescue me. Hero." Then he stepped back and moved to the window ledge, wincing a little at the height. It was nowhere near as much as he had thought it to be (for years) while the - chip, Shaun had said, was active, but it was still enough to make him swallow nervously.

Being called a 'hero' made Shaun want to roll his eyes, but he didn't. If Nolan wanted to think that of him, who was Shaun to contradict him? He planned to take full advantage of it, later, when they were safe.

Gently, Shaun touched the small of Nolan's back, his other hand gripping the lead rope. "You can do it," he promised in a quiet tone. "I'll be watching. It'll be okay."

Nolan looked back at Shaun with a small, dry smile. "I know. See you down there." He pushed off the ledge cautiously, hands going to the rope holding him up, and trusted Shaun to see him safely below.

If the ropes and pulleys had been rigged by anyone other than Shaun, it might have been a very dangerous trip down to the ground. As promised, though, the harness was Gilmore-secure, and Nolan reached the concrete floor below, safe and sound. When the tension on the rope slackened enough for Shaun to know that Nolan had released the harness, he pulled it back up, strapped himself in, and inched his own way down.

The grin he gave Nolan as he reached the ground concealed most of the nerves Shaun had felt during the stretch of time he'd been relying on his X-gene x-pertise to keep secure the most precious person in the world. Shaun didn't think of himself as a quick thinker, or an action-oriented person -- nothing along the lines of the kids in X-Force. But when it came to the people he cared about, Shaun would (and could) do whatever was necessary to keep them safe. "Hey sexy," he whispered, his breath short and heart racing. "Ready to get out of here?"

Something unlocked in Nolan's chest, and he helped Shaun out of his harness, not because the help was needed (in fact, it probably slowed him down a little), but simply so he could be touching Shaun. At his question, Nolan looked up into Shaun's eyes and gave him one of his soft, small smiles, the trust in his expression counterbalancing the tension. "Lead the way."