You Can Sink to the Bottom of the Sea (Just don't go without me)

The Almighty Johnsons

Mikkal

The chosen place where Anders, Mike, and Frigg are being kept ends up not being a warehouse, but a regular house in a housing development not yet finished so none of the houses are actually being lived in at the moment. The second time Anders was taken—the first time since Mitchell was a constant—they took him to a warehouse, the very first time without Mitchell it was just a regular house.

"If this isn't the right place I'm going to be pissed," Axl says.

"You and me both," Mitchell mutters.

"Before we kick ass," Michele says. "I want to know where vampire-boy learned such nice knots." She winks at him. "You and your dwarf get freaky in the bedroom or something?"

Mitchell scowls at her. "The Great War," he replies through gritted teeth. "Or, you know, World War I. It was kind of a requirement to know. By World War II I was an expert."

That made her expression sober. "How old are you anyway?"

"Old enough," he answers. "But not very old at all." He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "And don't bother asking me how it's going to work with the very mortal Anders, we've had that conversation already. Can we get on with it now or are you going to give a rousing speech of encouragement?"

"I think that's a little redundant," Ty comments."

Axl rolls his eyes. "Come on." He grips his sword tightly. "Let's go."

Mitchell and the two oldest Johnsons left manage to keep Axl from charging into the house like he wants. They go for stealth out of everything with a hint to of urgency. Mitchell ducks under a windowsill, he peers into the kitchen to see a man stand at the counter reading a newspaper. He's just about to let Ty know when he realises the man isn't moving…at all.

"Something's wrong," he says, dropping his voice to a whisper though his gut tells him it's probably pointless.

"What do you mean?" Ty asks.

Mitchell stands even when the other man tries to keep him hidden. The man at the sink doesn't even look at him; he barely looks as if he's breathing. He pulls on Ty to get him to stand too and they're both left looking at the man in confusion.

"Let's head in."

The house is silent when they walk in. Unnervingly silent. No one comes to rush them, there are no frantic footsteps to indicate someone knows they're there. It's like this place is completely empty, but they know it's not because of the still man at the sink.

"I don't get it," Axl says. "What's going on?"

Mitchell shakes his head. "Basement. I don't give a shit about the God Killers. I just want Anders." He realises how childish that sounds, but it's absolutely true.

Ty gives him a strange look, but follows him down the basement stairs anyway. The others follow quietly as well, the whole mood tense.

They come face to face with a crowbar pointed out like it's the sword Axl has in his hands. Holding it is a gorgeous blonde woman, her looks broken by the bruise on her cheek and jaw and the dirt on the lines of her face. Her hair's a mess and her eyes are wild.

"Stay away," she orders.

"Hold on," Mitchell says, putting his hands up to placate her. "We're the good guys. I promise."

"Like I'm going to believe you."

"Mike? Anders?" Axl calls through the darkness. There's the click of a switch as someone tries to turn on the light, but it doesn't work.

The woman relaxes. "Are you guys the brothers?"

"Those two are," Mitchell answers. "The rest are friends and I'm Mitchell."

She relaxes even more. "Where are the God Killers?"

"Frozen," Ty answers.

Frigg swears—she can only be Frigg—and drops her crowbar with a clatter, rushing to the back of the basement into the darkness. "Damnit, Anders! This is not what we meant."

"Did he really do it?" Mike's voice came.

"Yes. Your family's here."

"Here, take him." Mike comes from the darkness, looking worn and tired and in better shape than Frigg. "It's good to see you." He pulls Axl into a hug and claps Ty on the shoulder, nodding to Olaf. "We've got a shit storm on our hands." He glances at Mitchell. "He fixed you. Can you fix him?"

Mitchell doesn't answer, just moves to where he can hear Anders' laboured breathing. He finds what he expects: Anders laid out, his head cradled in Frigg's lap, and looking half-dead. Trust him, he knows what half-dead looks like.

"Oh Anders," he says, dropping to his knees. "What did you do?"

"I told them to stop," Anders says, his voice a whisper. "It's hard to do when there's so many." Anders' hand is resting on his chest, right where his heart is. "I've died," he whispers, lips bloodless and cheeks fever red. "Oops."

"You're not dead," Mitchell chastises. "You're not that stupid enough to die and leave me here alone."

Anders smirks at him despite the pain he's in.

"If you tell them to move again do you think that'll help?" Frigg asks. "I really don't understand Bragi's power."

"None of us do," Mitchell says. "He's a little unpredictable."

"A little?" Mike snarls from the other side of the room. "Talk about fucking crazy. This is not what we meant. If you die, I'm going to kill you."

Anders starts laughing then he starts choking on air. "T-That's…" He sucks in air frantically. "That's what M-Mitchell says a-all the t-time. Christ." He clutches the fabric over his heart. "I can't."

"Can't what?" Mitchell asks. He tangles his fingers in Anders' unruly blond locks that rivals his own for wildness. "Are you holding too hard onto the order?"

Anders shakes his head, his breathing getting a little faster and a little shallower. The ground shakes lightly and Mitchell curses under his breath, just what they need—earthquakes.

"Axl," he says. "Anders is going to let go of the God Killers. You have two choices: kill them or capture them. You have the sword, figure it out." He sees Axl nod out of the corner of his eye. "You're going to be okay," he tells Anders.

He grins at Mitchell. "That's m-my line." Blood trickles from his nose. "Don't let my—D-Don't let Axl actually kill p-people," he says quietly. "He's only allowed to kill one p-person. Me. I'll let him do it over and over again if it helps."

Mitchell shakes his head. "Let go of the command," he urges gently. "I'll keep Axl's sanity intact. Promise."

Anders closes his eyes and whispers something so quietly that Mitchell can't even hear the words. There's a crash upstairs and angry shouting, then hurried footsteps coming closer to the basement door. Anders immediately passes out, going limp even as Frigg tries to keep him awake.

"Anders?" Mitchell shakes his shoulder and receives no reply. The only reason he's not freaking out beyond that is Anders' shallow breathing and the alluring sound of blood pumping through his veins that gives indication his heart's going strong. The amount of times Anders ends up in these situations is staggering and Mitchell wishes he could just bundle him up in a fluffy blanket and taken him away from everything that could hurt him. Annie would help.

"Is he okay?" Ty asks.

"Michele," Mitchell calls, not answering Ty. "Come over here and use your doctor expertise."

She walks over, looking concern. "It's some sort of god thing," she says. "Not just that, it's a Bragi thing. I've got no expertise on this."

"Wonderful," Mitchell intones.

There's banging on the doors and more cursing. Olaf is holding it close and Axl is right behind him, brandishing his sword like he knows how to use it—Mitchell highly believes he actually doesn't and is more likely to stab himself than any God Killer.

"Stay with him," he tells Frigg. She nods solemnly and holds Anders close, the serious look in her eye makes him regret not finding out her actual name but before he can ask the basement door slams open. "Michele, protect them."

She's the last line of defense, but he doesn't think they'll need it. There are four God Killers and four of them (Dawn and Gaia waiting in the car with weapons of their own in case there's more than the ones in the house). They can handle this easily.