Chapter 5: Lost and Found
(Lance knows A Bad Thing when he sees it)

The problem with having shut down his psychic powers, Lance realized, was that he hadn't had any warning when Brian found 169. He'd gotten so used to knowing when bad things were going to happen that it had spoiled him. Not since the armed robbery at McDonalds, way back before the Boys had gotten their powers, had he been unpleasantly surprised like this.

And then there was the fact that no one else seemed to view this as A Bad Thing. Even Marks and Welsh, who had been vocally skeptical of 169's relative innocence in the whole affair, were glad to see him. As far as Lance was concerned, 169 should have stayed where he was. Whoever it was that had led Brian to this little alley should have minded his own business and just let things be. Welsh and Marks were probably right, after all. The guy was in rough shape, and Lance couldn't see any possible way that he could have a decent life, even if he lived. He was wanted by the law, had lost his only friends to violent deaths, and was probably dying slowly of the same disease that had driven 128 insane. What did he have to live for?

And now Howie had run off, shocked and hurt by 169's reaction to him. Lance had to stifle the urge to roll his eyes. What had Howie expected to happen? Was 169 supposed to take one look at him and realize, "Oh wait, that's not 128, that's a really nice guy who only wants to help me!" Yeah, right.

Lance grimaced to himself. He could be really mean when he was pissed off.

"Lance, we need your help," JC called, his voice breaking into Lance's thoughts.

Lance looked in the direction of JC's voice but didn't move any closer. He had stationed himself far away from the huddle of bodies that had surrounded 169, and had no plans to move any closer. "What for?" he called back, actually stepping farther back. Big Mike turned to look curiously, but didn't say anything.

"He's hurt badly," Joey answered, "and we can't move him until you heal him."

"Heal him?!" Lance burst out, taking another three steps back. That was not part of the plan.

Big Mike's look of curiosity turned to sympathy. "I know you're freaked out, man, but you haven't seen him. He's messed up, and he'll die if we try to move him. He needs you."

"No." Lance shook his head wildly, not realizing he'd been slowly backing away until Big Mike grabbed his arm in a firm, but gentle, grip. "Stop it, you have no idea what you're asking me!"

"Lance—"

"Don't you ÔLance' me! Haven't you ever heard of a hospital? They have ambulances for just this sort of thing. They're big trucks with medical equipment in them, and they come—"

"Lance...." Nick had pushed his way back through the crowd of bodies at the mouth of the alley and was staring pathetically at him, wringing his hands. "He won't last that long. Please."

Lance cursed inwardly. Nick was using the puppy-dog eyes. They were the same eyes that Justin had used with reckless abandon for so many years, but Lance had never seen that look on Nick. Whereas Justin had absolutely no effect on him anymore, he felt himself rapidly softening when faced with Nick's hangdog expression and obvious distress.

"Stop it," he mumbled, looking away and stubbornly hanging on to his resolve. "Nick, quit it."

Nick didn't quit it. If anything, he turned up the power. Lance could feel the heat of that gaze even without looking.

"Alright, alright, dammit! Fine. But I'm only getting him to the point where he can be moved."

Nick relaxed and the power of the Gaze faded away. "Thank you, Lance."

Lance grumbled something fairly insulting and pushed his way through to join JC and the others. "Alright," he said, pushing into the space between Chris and Kevin, "Let's just get this over wi—oh, my God."

Kevin looked over at him, his face grim. "Can you help?"

Lance felt most of his anger melt away in the face of the terrible injuries suffered by the clone. He suddenly felt very selfish for having refused. There wasn't a spot on that body that wasn't bruised, abraded, broken, or otherwise damaged. There were scars, sores, and bruises everywhere in various stages of healing, and one arm was obviously broken, twisted up under 169's chest at an awkward angle. "I...."

169 moaned, and Lance reached out one shaking hand, stopping just short of touching him. God, what about the Rage? He shuddered, suddenly feeling weak. He couldn't do this, it would take him over again.

But wait. He'd connected with 169 before, at the facility. He narrowed his eyes in thought. Yes, when he'd gotten to that room, he'd connected with all of them, one at a time. 169 had been right before... right before everything happened. But he hadn't felt anything harmful at the time, other than the growing dread and panic. Maybe he didn't have to worry about the Rage with 169.

Lance clenched his teeth and steeled his resolve, then lowered his hand and touched 169's shoulder.

Pain. Terror. Fear. Pain. Pain....

God, so much pain. But no Rage.

Lance took a deep breath and began to work.

~*~

The stench woke him up. There was pain as well, but the stench was the worst. He cringed from it, gasping for breath, but couldn't escape it. It surrounded him, choking him.

Blindly, Howie groped about for any clue to his whereabouts, opening his eyes wide in an attempt to see through the suffocating darkness. He was lying on something moist, slimy, and uneven--not one surface but many objects packed tightly together--and insects were buzzing and crawling all around him.

His groping hand slammed into a hard, unyielding surface above him and instantly, he knew where he was. Head and heart pounding, he lunged upward, shoving with all his might on the cover of the dumpster until it popped open and he was able to scramble out, landing hard on the ground below.

His head swam with pain and he crouched there for several moments, breathing hard and fighting the urge to vomit. He nearly blacked out again but he took deep breaths through his mouth until the dizziness and nausea had abated somewhat. Then he crawled as far away from that dumpster as he could and leaned against a far wall, panting for breath.

What had happened? He rubbed absently at an itch on his arm and froze suddenly, looking down at his filthy body and realizing with a sinking heart that he was completely naked. His mind whirled. It had been 128. The clone had ambushed him and blasted him at full power with a bolt of electricity.

Why was he not dead? He closed his eyes and tried to think, lifting a hand to the still-tender lump on the back of his head. Of course! 128 had blasted him, but he'd barely felt it. He had seen the crackling tongues of electricity surrounding him, but they had merely danced across his skin, causing his hair to stand on end. But the force of the blow had knocked him backwards, and the back of his head had slammed into the brick wall, knocking him out. 128 had obviously just assumed the bolt had killed him, or he would have finished the job. Instead, he'd just stolen his clothes and dumped him.

Howie shuddered, realizing how close to death he had come. He had been stupid to wander off on his own, and now his friends were in danger. With 128 out there wearing his clothes, he'd be able to get close enough to the guys to cause some real damage. Howie had to get back to them and warn them before it was too late. But first, he had to find some clothes.

He opened his eyes again and scanned the alley for any sign of the clone's discarded clothing. His eyes strayed back to that dumpster and he groaned. He'd bet his entire life savings that the clone had dumped his old clothing in there with "the body."

Howie sighed resolutely and got to his feet.

~*~

Nick remained where he was, at the mouth of the alley, as Lance finally agreed to help the ailing clone. He felt weak suddenly, and staggered to the nearest wall, reaching out a hand to steady himself.

169 looked almost nothing like AJ. It was funny, really, to think about. In some ways, of course, they were identical. Nick dreaded the first time he would have to look directly into those eyes. He couldn't imagine the kind of fear and pain he would see shining in their depths. One of the main reasons AJ always wore sunglasses was because his emotions showed plainly through in his eyes. It made him vulnerable, and AJ hated to be vulnerable.

169 was vulnerable. He was thin and timid, had almost no muscle tone at all, and of course, no tattoos. Nick hadn't consciously realized what a difference those tattoos made.

He finally truly understood what Agent Marks had meant when he had talked about nature versus nurture. 169 may have AJ's genes—may have AJ's blood running through his veins—but he was not AJ, and never could be.

It made him feel a little better to know that. When Howie came back, it would make him feel better as well, because it would mean that he was even further removed from 128 than they'd realized. It was hurting Howie, Nick knew, to have a homicidal copy of himself running around loose. Knowing Howie, he was probably afraid that some of that violence was a reflection of his own personality, rather than just a result of the clone's illness.

Howie wasn't perfect, of course, and he couldn't be "Sweet D" all the time, but Nick honestly believed that there was no violence in him anywhere. Anger, sure. He'd seen it. Annoyance, envy, despair.... He'd seen Howie in less-than-optimum condition several times over the years, but he had never seen any violence. Not once.

He, on the other hand, knew of his violence. He struggled with it all the time. Howie fought with words, Nick fought with fists. Or, he'd used to. He tried really hard not to do that anymore. At least not with other people. Pillows and such were fair game.

Calmer now, Nick crept closer to the group huddled on the ground and peered over their bent heads. Lance's hands on 169's chest were glowing softly, and the cuts and bruises all over the clone's body were all healing steadily. He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he started to feel dizzy, and he let it all out in an explosive gasp just as the glow finally faded from Lance's hands.

No one spoke. Lance lifted his hands slowly, leaning back as the clone stirred, pushing himself up on shaky arms.

"What did you do to me?" The five on the ground moved back to give 169 space, but still surrounded him, their postures tense. "Who are you?" 169 got to his knees, looking around at all of them, hugging himself with too-skinny arms. "What do you want?"

"Don't be afraid," Brian said quietly, "we want to help you."

169 stared at him. "'62?"

Brian shook his head. "No. My name is Brian. This is Kevin," he gestured around at all of them, "Chris, JC, and Lance. There are more of us, too, we're kind of a big group. We're here to help you, all of us. Lance just healed all of your wounds."

169 glanced in Lance's direction, then back at Brian. "You look like 162. Only...."

Brian nodded. "I know. Do you know... what you are?"

169 slumped miserably and looked down at the ground. "Yes."

"Well, we're the, um.... We're the ones whose DNA they used to... make you. It's not your fault, 169, and we don't blame you. But that's why we look like them."

169 looked back up at him. "And me?"

"Yes," Brian answered, knowing exactly what he meant. "His name is AJ. He's... over there, somewhere." He gestured vaguely. "Can you stand?"

169 nodded and got to his feet slowly, wobbling a little, but shrugging off Kevin's attempts to help. He stepped away, holding out his hands to ward him off. "No. I'm... No."

Kevin nodded and backed off immediately. "Okay."

169 looked a little surprised and wary at his easy acquiescence, and watched him closely. Kevin watched blandly back, his expression unreadable. 169 dropped his eyes first, then looked around him at all of those gathered in the alley. He turned a little pale when his eyes fell on Nick.

"I'm Nick," he said quickly, not wanting to cause the clone any more unnecessary pain. Justin stepped forward, then, and introduced himself as well, cuing the others to do the same. 169's eyes, however, never left Nick's. The pain in them, as Nick had feared, was almost unbearable.

There was a pregnant silence once all of the introductions had been made. The five who had been clustered around 169 during his healing stepped away, trying to give the clone some space. He stood alone now, still hugging himself, his back to the wall of the alley. "The other one," he said quietly, speaking only to Nick, "He wasn't 128." It was a statement, not a question.

"No," Nick answered, just as quietly. "His name is Howie. He's really nice. He's...."

"Nothing like 128," Justin finished.

169 nodded slowly. "Okay. What are you going to do to me?"

"Well, we...." Nick stopped, realizing that he didn't actually know how to answer that question.

"We should take him to a hospital," Lance said, studiously studying the filthy ground. "I saw.... He should get checked out."

"I'm sick, aren't I?" 169 asked bleakly. "Like the others."

"There was something there, but it was...." Lance sighed. "I don't know. You should get checked out."

"We'll take care of that," Agent Welsh assured him. "169, I would like to take you into our custody. You're not under arrest, and you won't be harmed, but we do need to ask you some questions about your whereabouts these past few days, and about 128."

"Do I have a choice?" The clone didn't even look up, just stared down at his feet.

"No."

"You'll be okay, 169," Nick assured the clone. "Agent Welsh is a good guy, you can trust him. And... I'll go with you, if you want."

"So will I," Brian offered, and Kevin nodded his agreement.

AJ cleared his throat. "I'll just stay here, with the others. We gotta find Howie, anyway."

"Alright," Welsh agreed. "169, if you'll come with me, please?"

The clone hesitated, his eyes straying back to Nick.

"It's okay," Nick urged him, holding out a hand. "I promise."

169 took one faltering step forward, then another. Nick's hand closed gently on his forearm.

"Let's go," Nick said, trying not to notice the way his fingers completely encircled the fragile, bony arm. "You'll be safe with us."

169 didn't answer. Nick kept his eyes on Welsh's back.

~*~

"He's not taking your place, if that's what you're worried about," Chris said, coming up behind AJ as he watched Nick leading 169 away.

"I know," AJ answered truthfully, turning to face him. "I may have been before, but not now."

"What's changed?" Justin asked hesitantly, genuinely curious. "I mean, what's different now, that it doesn't worry you?"

"He's not me, is he?" AJ shrugged. "I didn't really get that before, but I do now. Cloning's not like in the movies, where it's an exact copy of the person in every way. He's another guy entirely, just happens to have the same DNA I do. Even if he wanted to take my place, he couldn't. I'm me, he's him. End of story."

"It's kind of like having a little brother, I guess," Justin mused.

AJ grimaced. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I would," Chris said, turning and moving toward the mouth of the alley, the others following instinctively. "Look at Nick and Aaron. That's an experiment in cloning if I've ever seen one."

JC rolled his eyes. "That's really not funny, Chris."

Chris turned and gave him an innocent look. "Who's trying to be funny?"

Justin stopped suddenly, his face grim. "Guys, hold it." His eyes were glued to the mouth of the alley, just a few feet from where Chris was standing. "Something's wrong."

AJ followed his gaze and his mouth went dry. Standing at the corner, looking back at them all with a benign smile, was Howie.... But not.

He was wearing Howie's clothes, but it was obvious at first glance that he wasn't who he was pretending to be. He was too thin, and there was a growth of hair on his chin and face where Howie had been clean-shaven. His hair was too long, and worst of all, his eyes were a flat, dull brown, filled with a malice that AJ could see even from several feet away. "Oh, God," he whispered, his heart dropping to his feet. "Howie...."

Behind him, Lance drew in a sharp breath and went stiff, his hand closing on AJ's shoulder.

Johnny regained his senses first. "We've been looking for you," he told the clone cautiously, smiling insincerely. "Where've you been?"

"I'm sorry I wandered off," the clone said. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"God," Justin whispered, "He thinks we're buying it. He thinks we think he's really Howie."

"Shut it," JC hissed. AJ just stared, feeling curiously numb.

"That's alright," Johnny was saying. "We understand."

The clone took a step toward them, and Johnny took an involuntary step back. 128's eyes narrowed. "Why are you backing away from me?"

"I...." Johnny's hesitance gave him away. 128 growled and lifted his hands, electricity crackling between his fingers.

"No!" Joey leapt forward, super speed placing him right in the bolt's path just as it was about to engulf Johnny. He screamed, his body convulsing with electricity.

Justin yelped and moved as if to go to his aid, but JC grabbed hold of him, pulling him back. "Justin, stop! He'll be fine, don't panic!"

128 let loose another bolt, and another, but Joey intercepted them all, grimly accepting the pain to spare the lives of his friends. Finally, 128 realized he could do them no damage, and let the power fade from his hands. Joey waited, panting, twitching slightly but still alert and standing.

128 glared at them all, his eyes darting around until they rested on AJ, and then he smirked evilly. "I know who you are."

"I know you, too," AJ answered, his fists and guts clenched. "What did you do with Howie?"

"Killed him," came the flippant answer.

AJ went numb.

"I threw his body in a dumpster. There are a lot of them around here. Good luck finding him!" He laughed and turned to run, leaving a group too shocked and disbelieving to follow.

"Don't listen to him." Lonnie said after a long silence. "Howie's around somewhere, we've just got to find him."

"But he was wearing Howie's clothes." AJ looked up at the large black man without seeing him. "He couldn't have gotten them without...."

"No," JC said grimly, squeezing his hand. "Don't you dare give up. We've got Lance, remember?"

AJ turned to Lance, not daring to hope. "Can you...?"

"I did once before," he answered slowly, glancing at a grim-faced Chris. "With help."

"So let's find him, then," Johnny decided. "And we'll... deal with things."

"Justin can find him," Joey put in, leaning against the wall and then sliding to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes. "It won't take him long."

"You okay?" Big Mike asked, kneeling down next to him and checking his pulse.

"Fine," Joey answered with a weak grin. "I'm nigh invulnerable, remember? I'm just a little tingly. It'll pass."

"Me and Dre can go find Howie," Justin decided, "Right, Dre?"

Dre nodded. "Yeah, alright."

"Lance can come along, too. For, um...."

"I'm going with you." AJ glared at them, silently daring them to object. Justin only nodded.

"Okay, then. Just be careful. We'll be at the hotel waiting for you." Joey pushed himself away from the wall and stood shakily. "All of you."

AJ turned and left the alley, unable to respond.

~*~

Howie had been so upset that he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going. He cursed himself now for his inattentiveness. Not only had he allowed himself to be ambushed, he was also completely lost. His mother's voice echoed in his head, giving advice from years past. "If you get lost, stay where you are and wait for me to find you." He took that advice to heart now, sitting in the shadows of the alley where he'd been dumped, eyes and ears sharply tuned to his surroundings.

He could not assume that anyone approaching would be friendly. He was fully aware that he was dressed in the clothing of a wanted criminal, and had no desire to be struck down by the "friendly fire" of a trigger-happy cop.

His stomach rumbled angrily and he placed a hand over it, grimacing in near-pain. Breakfast was obviously long past, and his head still ached from where he'd banged it against the brick. He knew he couldn't have wandered too far—not enough time had elapsed for that—so someone would stumble upon him sooner or later. He only hoped it would be someone he wanted to see.

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