Among the Strong
Apr. 13th, 2024 06:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladydeathfaerie posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
marysuevirusTitle: Among the Strong
Chapter Thirteen: The Reckoning, part 2
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs todazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar .
Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
He stared at Haley, who had her head in her hands and sat hunched over the table. She'd been sitting there for the better part of fifteen minutes and she hadn't looked at him once. It was odd, given just how much she sought him out simply to feel his hands on her skin. Or to feel his lips on hers. This was a Haley he barely recognized.
Oh, he'd seen her before. But it had been such a long time ago. This Haley had only existed for a short time. Right after Harper's death. He'd watched from a distance as she'd grieved the loss of her brother. He'd wanted to go to her, to offer her what comfort he could. But he'd never quite worked up the nerve to do so. He'd figured she wouldn't want anything to do with him. After all, Harper's death had been his fault.
Scott frowned. He hated seeing Haley like this. In the entire three months they'd been in this place, he'd never seen her look as lost and dejected as she did right at that moment. Hell, she hadn't looked this lost and dejected when she'd been torn between Piotr and Johnny.
For a moment, Scott wondered why he hadn't tried to offer her some advice or just a shoulder to lean on when all of that was going on. He'd have gladly done it. And yet... Shaking his head on that, he stood from the couch and crossed the room until he stood behind her. "Haley, sweetheart," he said softly.
Her shoulders jumped up to her ears for a moment, as if in shock or surprise. They dropped quickly enough, but she took her time raising her head to look at him. When she did, he swore she'd been crying. Her eyes were rimmed red and her lashes looked matted. But there were no tell-tale tear tracks on her cheeks. Curious. "Come on." He took her hand in his and gently pulled her from the seat. She allowed it, didn't resist him at all. When he tucked her under his arm so that she was close to him, she snuggled into his side with a sigh.
Something was definitely bothering her.
He took her over to the bed. It was a short walk and she turned questioning eyes his way. "Scott?"
"You look dead on your feet. I think a nap will do you wonders," he explained. One hand reached up to soothe her hair down. It looked extremely disheveled, suggesting to him that she'd run her fingers through it repeatedly.
"I'm not tired," she responded. And he might have bought it. Except she yawned wide enough that he could count all of her teeth. It made him smile at her.
"Of course you aren't. So we'll just lay down and close our eyes for a while. You don't have to nap so long as you rest."
She smiled at him, poking a finger into his side. "Stop mother henning me," she ordered, though it lacked a good deal of command. He caught the offending finger and brought it to his lips in order to press a soft kiss to it. That actions saw her shuddering, her eyes slipping closed as she did so. He thought it a curious reaction, but maybe it was because she was simply tired.
"You know its my job to be a mother hen. If I wasn't a mother hen, there's no telling what some of the X-Men would get up to," he teased.
"Things like betting against their students?" she asked, tone light. He cringed at the reminder anyway.
"You don't have to remind me that what I did was stupid. And, contrary to popular opinion, I never bet on Purple Team washing out," Scott told her, his hands making quick work of her shorts and tank top. She allowed him to prod her into bed, his hands urging her toward her side. When she was settled, he pulled his own tank top off and left it on the floor beside the bed. Then he joined her, tugging her into his arms so that she was pressed up against his side.
"Mhmm," she responded, her tone making it clear she didn't believe him.
"I bet that they would fail their evaluation and have to take it over again. After they got more training time under their belts. After they came together more cohesively as a team," he said in defense of himself. "Purple Team proved that they were far more capable than any of us realized. You passed that eval fair and square."
Haley turned serious green eyes his way. His gut tightened with need when she did so. It took a great deal of will power to keep his hands to himself. "We worked hard for that win, Scott. Damned hard. Even we were questioning whether or not we would be able to pass it."
"You had no reason to worry. You chose your team well. And you're a good leader. Anyone who thinks otherwise can come talk to me. I'll disabuse them of the notion," he said. His statement brought a smile to her face.
"I see. And will you proclaim to the entire school that you were wrong about my team?" she asked. A pair of fingers walked up his arm and across his chest so that they could play with a nipple. Heat licked along his nerves, setting his skin on fire with need. How could she turn him on so easily?
"Sweetheart, I'll sing it from the roof top if I have to," he promised.
"Sweet talker," she replied, voice husky. It was a delicious sound, made him want to devour her whole, here and now. Instead, he rolled up on his side and let his hand glide up her thigh to her hip. She shivered with the touch, moved closer to him so that she could press more of her skin against his. "Love me, Scott. Please."
"Anything you want, Haley," he promised softly. But he didn't make good on the promise. Instead, he gently urged her back until her head rested on her pillow. "First, you need rest. You look like you just got done trying to bring down both Blob and the Juggernaut."
"That good?" she asked, the corners of her mouth tipping up at the corners just a little bit.
"Honey, you look like you've been crying," he pointed out. One hand lifted to stroke the curve of her cheek, prompting her to shudder. He frowned at that. Her reaction was a little over the top. Even for someone who loved being touched as much as she did. "What's going on with you, Haley? The last time I saw you look this haggard, Harper had just died."
He saw pain in her gaze. Just a flash of it. For just a moment. Then it was gone and she was giving him a coy smile he'd seen her use more than once when she'd been trying to steer him away from a topic she didn't like. Even before he could process that smile, her hands were drifting across his chest so that her fingers could tease his nipples. The touch of her nimble fingertips against his flesh saw desire race along every nerve ending. It brought his cock to aching fullness in the blink of an eye.
"Haley," he began, the intent to put her hands on the bed so they could have a chat about what was going on with her. But she wrapped her arms around his neck and rose up just far enough to press her lips to his. Scott groaned at the soft, sweet, hungry kiss. His arms wrapped around her and crushed her close so that he could plunder her mouth as thoroughly as he was able.
A voice at the back of his head warned him that he shouldn't let her distract him. He was beyond certain there was something going on with her. He had a few guesses, but he didn't want to just come out an ask because he could only imagine what kind of awkward situation being wrong would mean for them. But she was so eager and needy. Her body was molded to his and she'd already started to work his shorts off.
Scott dragged his mouth from hers so that he could trail a line of kisses from the corner of her mouth down to her breasts and beyond. The first kiss brought a soft cry from her. The second kiss saw her clutch at him all the harder. By the time his teeth grazed the swell of her breast above the sports bra, she was squirming beneath him. And she was pleading mindlessly for him to fuck her then and there.
The pleading wasn't anything really new. She'd done it time and again during their make out sessions. It was the squirming while doing so that held his attention. He'd never seen Haley squirm quite this much. That voice was suddenly louder, demanding he pull away from her and convince her to tell him what was going on. It also said he needed to do it now, before she made him lose all control. Because that voice was certain that if he didn't, if he didn't convince her to talk to him, it would be twice as hard to do it the next time. And there was no doubt in his mind that there would be a next time.
It took everything in him to gently put Haley away from him. He actually slipped from the bed and took a few paces away in an attempt to get himself under control well enough to have a conversation with him. Haley sat up and stared at him with eyes that were brimming with confusion and hurt. He could well imagine she thought he was rejecting her. But she should know better after all this time.
"Please, Scott. I need you. Please," she begged. He could hear tears in her voice and he wanted to kick himself for it. But they had to have this out. He had to find out what had her acting the way she was.
"I need you, too, Haley. Goddamn it, my cock hurts right now because its so hard. But we need to talk. There's something going on and you are not acting like yourself," he told her, making sure he left no room for doubt regarding his desire for her. "Something is tearing you apart."
~*~
"Tell me what's going on. Let me help you fix it," he urged gently. His words saw panic lance through Haley. It was sharp and electric and it left a queasy feeling in her belly. At least, she thought it came from the panic.
For a moment, she thought she could climb from the bed and distract him by getting down on her knees and sucking him off. But there was such a look of concern and determination on his face that she knew it would be pointless. Her gaze dropped to the bedding and remained there while she fell into thought.
There was no way to convince him that he was wrong. He was too observant for that. And his brain was too methodical for her to shift his focus elsewhere. If there was one thing she knew about Scott Summers, famed leader of the first team of X-Men, it was that he was logical and persistent. He would hammer away at her until she gave him what he wanted. She was just surprised that he hadn't put it together himself. She didn't have much choice. She was going to have to tell him.
The problem was, she didn't know how.
"You can't fix it, Scott," she whispered. The room was silent for a few moments, then the bed dipped as he took a seat on it. One hand reached out to catch her chin. He brought her head up and around until he could see her face. No doubt he saw sadness there. And fear. This... What she had to tell him. It was going to change everything.
"You don't know that, sweetheart," he replied gently. She smiled and shook her head. As much to deny this words as to keep him from seeing the tears that were welling up.
"Oh, trust me. I know," she said.
"Haley. Talk to me. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. We'll find some way to - "
"I'm pregnant, Scott," Haley blurted, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. The silence that fell between them was strange. Uncomfortable. She lifted her head, unable to stop herself from seeking out his face. Maybe... Maybe there'd be something good there. Maybe he'd be happy.
He was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. As if he didn't know what to do with the news. Haley turned away, told herself silently that she wouldn't cry. Not in front of him. She wasn't going to let him see how hurt she was by that look. "That's why you've looked like you haven't slept for the past few days. That's why you were a little unsteady on your feet when you stood up from the couch the other day."
"Yes," she responded, despite the fact that he hadn't asked any questions.
"Haley," he said.
"Look. I get it. Its a huge shock. And it wasn't really what you wanted to hear from me," she got out. She even felt like it came out sounding normal. "But we both knew that this was Sinister's end goal. A baby to give to Apocalypse. A baby to turn into War."
"Haley." Scott's voice was a little closer. She didn't have to look to know he'd leaned toward her. She could practically feel the heat of his body on hers.
"I know we won't get to keep her. He'll take her away as soon as she's born and we'll never see her again unless we have to do battle with Apocalypse. But there's a part of me that wants that to not be true. There's a part of me..." She trailed off then, unable to finish the sentence. Because it would never happen. There would never be a them. And Sinister would take their baby. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you. Even though... I thought you should know. I thought maybe... "
Her words choked off on a soft sob. Haley wrapped her arms around herself and curled inward. Her hair fell forward to hide her face, to shield her misery and her sorrow. The tears fell silently, sliding down her cheeks to drop from her chin into her lap.
"Haley. Look at me," Scott said.
"I know this isn't fair to you. I know you'd much rather have a baby with someone you love but I - " Her words were swallowed by another sob. She was grateful for it. She'd almost let it out. She'd almost admitted to him that she was head over heels in love with him. That she'd never regret becoming pregnant with his child. But she couldn't. It wouldn't be fair. He'd go home to Jean and she'd be left with an aching hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. Because he'd take it with him when he walked away.
"Haley," Scott said again, his voice sharper. Deeper. "Icon. Look at me."
She couldn't stop herself from responding to the command in his voice. Despite her misery, despite the tears that fell without hindrance, she lifted her head and stared at him with despair in her eyes. Scott stared at her a moment, his eyes searching her face. For several moments, he stared and searched. And then he smiled. As if he'd found what he was looking for. His hands came up and took hold of her. They pulled her, unresisting, into his embrace. His thumbs stroked the tears from her cheeks even as he continued to stare into her eyes.
"Haley. Sweetheart. Haven't you figured it out yet?" he asked. She stared up at him, lost in her misery. She didn't understand the tender look in his eyes. Or the soft smile that teased at his lips.
"Figured what out?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Not in words. Not just then. He answered by lowering her carefully to the bed and settling over her. He answered by kissing her until she needed to breathe in the worst possible way and she couldn't see straight. He answered by running his hands over every inch of skin until she squirmed beneath him and sighed into his mouth when he kissed her again and scored his back with her nails.
He showed her by stripping her naked and pressing himself inside of her. His tenderness brought a fresh spate of tears and he kissed every single one of them away as he made slow, tender love to her. He showed her by lavishing attention to every single inch of skin with strong fingers, sharp teeth, and soft lips. He showed her over and over again as he took her up and up. Until he took her so high that she couldn't think straight. Couldn't see straight. Didn't care. He showed her by bringing her to orgasm so many times she lost count.
He showed her by giving every last bit of himself to her.
And when it was over, when she lay spent in his arms, gasping for breath and unable to even move.. that was when he used his words. Sleep was creeping over her when Scott tugged her up against his side and settled the sheet over them. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stroked a hand down her back.
She heard his whispered words echo quietly in the stillness of their room. "There isn't anyone I'd rather have a baby with, Haley."
Warmth flooded her heart when she heard his statement. She was sure they were meant to soothe her battered spirits and make her feel better. She shouldn't let herself believe them. But she did. She let them wrap themselves around her and fill her. She'd chastise herself about it later, when she wasn't wrapped in his warm embrace. She'd deal with all the fallout later.
For now, she'd let herself believe that he loved her.
~*~
Remy paused in his warm up to give his attention to Dare. She stood in front of the heavy bag yet again, hands wrapped and curled into fists that she held up at shoulder level. She was staring intently at the bag, as if she was trying to decipher its next move. Odd, to be sure, because every other time she'd been in front of the heavy bag, she'd been jabbing at it with all the intensity of a tiger stalking its prey. Today, it seemed as if she was barely focused on what she was doing.
There'd been a lot of odd things happening lately. He'd noticed, over the past week or more, that she'd gotten paler. Not much. It was hard to tell if you weren't spending day in and day out with her. She'd always been pale, had gotten paler after returning from the dead. But lately, the paleness had reached near death levels. It suggested she was unwell. He didn't like that idea one bit.
Then there were the nights she'd climbed from bed and rushed to the bathroom, only to retch loudly enough that it roused him from a deep sleep. He'd faked still being asleep when she'd returned to bed. Obviously, she hadn't wanted to discuss it with him. But she'd still snuggled into him the moment she'd settled down and gone back to sleep with her arm thrown over him. As if she owned him. Or as if he anchored her when she felt she would simply float away.
There had been times he'd caught her on the verge of tears for seemingly no reason. And other times that she'd been angry. Frustrated. Simply moody. Again, for seemingly no reason. He'd considered asking her about it. But he'd ultimately decided to hold on to his questions because something had told him she wouldn't give him any acceptable answers.
Damn the woman and her secretive ways. Not that he blamed her. Living on the streets made it hard to trust people. Made it easy to keep everything close to the chest. He should know. He'd done his own time living on the streets. He understood the need to hide everything away. It made it harder for people to use you or abuse you. But she had to know that he wouldn't do that to her. She should have learned by now that she could trust him.
He frowned and thought back to the last time they'd had a real discussion. That had been the night he'd pried her secrets out of her. The night he'd watched her heart break right before him and nothing he'd said had helped make her feel better. Nothing had helped put her back together. He'd tried to show her how much he cared. He wasn't sure it had worked all that well.
She'd gone back to tucking her emotions away again, as if letting them run free was a bad thing. How she did it, he didn't know. It drove him up the wall trying to find an honest, full emotion on her some days. He couldn't be sure what went on in her mind because he only got brief glimpses of her emotions. And those glimpses were all watered down. Again, the only time her emotions were left unfiltered was when they were engaged in any sexual acts.
Frustration filled him. In some ways, it felt like he hadn't gotten her to break open and share her feelings with him. She engaged more fully with him. She laughed with him, teased him, talked to him the way any normal person would. But it wasn't normal by any sense of the word. Because he could still feel the hesitance in her. He could still feel that she was holding herself back and he didn't understand it. Didn't she realize that she didn't have to hide herself away and hold herself back? Not with him?
The sound of flesh slapping leather drew him from his thoughts. He found Dare engaged in pummeling the heavy bag. Her arms moved methodically in a pattern he recognized. She wasn't moving quite as fast as she had on previous visits to the gym. And she wasn't hitting as hard. Both of which gave him pause. For just a moment. But he put the faint thread of worry aside and left her to her own musings. No doubt she was planning ways in which to keep his mind off his questions. The ones she seemed to fear so much that she'd cheated to get him to let it go. That had only made him wonder about the answers even more. Enough that he'd been holding on to them for the last month and a half.
Assured she was somewhere near okay, he turned back to his warm up exercises. And he turned back to his thoughts.
He'd told her he loved her that night. He'd seen, for a short time, the hope that his admission had brought to life in her eyes. Then that flare of hope had dimmed and disappeared, leaving her eyes a little emptier. A little duller. He hadn't needed to ask or even dig to know that she'd thought he was telling her what she'd wanted to hear. And, if he was being honest with himself, he couldn't blame her.
She'd spent a decade, possibly longer, harboring a secret love for him. A love he'd been certain was little more than infatuation. A love she'd buried so deep, he'd never seen it until recently. There hadn't even been a hint of it when they'd dated so briefly way back. Except... He remembered the morning after that disastrous threesome he'd had with her and Morgan. When he'd seen her with Logan. There'd been so much fear in her face. He'd taken note of that. He thought she'd been afraid of having been discovered. Maybe it had been for another reason entirely.
Frowning, he pushed the thought aside. It was a memory. The past was gone and nothing he could do would change it. Nothing she could do would change it, either. He needed to focus on the here and now. Except his mind chose to thrust at him that moment in the hallway when he'd touched her mind with his. When he'd been searching for the truth. He'd asked her if it was over and he'd been waiting for her answer. Using the touch of his mind against hers to prove her answer either truth or falsehood. He'd felt the fear while she'd sought her answer. More than that, he'd felt a faint sense of desperation before she'd answered. Before he'd pulled away.
Before he'd shut her out completely.
She'd hurt him with her decisions that day. But he'd hurt her, too. More than she'd hurt him. First, by never sitting down and letting her know that she was worth more than she believed. Than he'd let her believe. She'd gone through their relationship believing he wanted nothing more from her than sex and easy companionship. Then he'd hurt her again by taking away the one part of him he'd allowed her to have. He owed her an apology. He owed her more than an apology.
Without thinking, he let his mind drift down the link he shared with her. He still didn't understand why Sinister hadn't blocked it when he'd blocked the link both of them shared with Morgan. Not that he was going to knock it. Being able to touch her mind, as noisy as it sometimes was, was better than being cut off completely.
When he turned his attention back to the link, it was to find that it felt... foggy. Slow and thick. A finger of fear and worry traced his spine, forced him to turn toward Dare. He found her standing before the heavy bag, her hands still up before her. They were lower now, though, and her fists looked far too loose top punch with. More than that, she was kind of wobbly on her feet. It looked like she was kind of rocking from side to side.
Then he was in motion because the link between them went black and Dare's knees went out from under her.
~*~
"Dare! Come on, petit. Open you eyes! Look at me. Please."
His voice was strident with worry and, when she managed to open her eyes, it was to find that her head rested in his lap. A head that felt thick and syrupy. Remy was staring down into her eyes with concern written all over his face. His hands were cupped against her cheeks and fear seemed to pour from them into her. She reached up and tried to bat one of them aside. Her coordination was off and her fingers just sort of hooked onto his. "You're too loud," she snapped at him.
Remy frowned at her a moment before helping her into a sitting position. He did so in a way that saw her sitting in his lap, his arms wound tightly around her. The kiss he pressed to her forehead was filled with his concern. "You scared de life out of me."
"I'm okay. Just a little woozy," she grumbled. The way he clung to her was... strange. And she swore she could feel his mind layered over hers.
"You pass out, Dare," he informed her. She looked up into his face and saw the worry there. It had taken the place of the fear that had been there just moments ago. And it was in his eyes, in the way he looked at her. That made her frown.
"I did?" It seemed weird to ask him that when she'd found herself laying on the floor with her head pillowed in his lap. He'd helped her sit up. Even now, he held her close. She frowned at the evidence. "I don't pass out. I don't think I've ever passed out."
"Dare," Remy began. She could hear something in his voice that she chose not to look at too closely. Nor did she name it. She wasn't ready for that. Because she felt certain she knew what he was going to say.
"I'm fine, Remy," she said and pulled away from him. He was reluctant to let her go, but she didn't give him much of a choice. Unless he was prepared to wrestle with her, she was getting out of his lap. "I've just been pushing myself too hard lately."
He rose to his feet, his movements as graceful and fluid as ever. She felt stiff and clunky next to him. For some reason, the comparison saw her want to cry and argue all at the same time. Instead of giving in to either one of them, she turned to her temper and let anger set her to rights. When she turned to face him, Remy's concern was written all over his face. And he was far too close for her comfort. Dare frowned at him. "Quit hovering. I'm fine!"
"You not fine, Dare," he replied immediately. One hand reached out to curl around her arm. She wasn't sure if it was to prevent her from walking away from him or if it was to offer her his support if she got light-headed again. She wanted to jerk her arm from his hold, but she didn't. Moments later, it was unimportant as the door slid open and a quartet of goblins entered the gym.
"You will come with us," one of them said. Gods, how she hated that line. She wanted to fight them, wanted to kick everyone of them in the creepy little spider face until she put out all their eyes. She didn't, though. She'd seen how fast the fuckers could move. How quickly they could lash out with their tail. She wanted nothing to do with their stingers or their claws. Those body parts meant bad things.
"Our time in the gym isn't up yet," she said. The clock on the wall said so.
"It is. You will come with us," the same goblin said. It skittered forward so quickly that it was just suddenly standing in front of her. One of its hands, with those glistening claws, reached for her. Remy pulled her out of its reach just before it would have touched her and put himself between them.
"We gon' come," he told the goblin, his tone genial. But the tension in his shoulders belied that tone. Remy turned to look at her, his eyes pleading. She could see the concern on his face. "Don' fight it, petit. Just do as it say."
She opened her mouth to argue, but she was struck with the notion that he'd called her petite again. Not once, but twice now. She wondered at it for a moment before Remy nudged her into motion. She realized that the goblins had surrounded them without her realizing. Frowning at her lapse, she fell into step with him and wondered just what the pervert-in-chief wanted with them now.
She didn't miss the way Remy was damn near glued to her side. There was tension in his shoulders and the hand that rested on her back. In fact, his fingers moved restlessly against her lower back in a pattern she recognized as one of his warm up exercises when he had the bo staff in hand. She glanced up at him to try and offer reassurance. But she had very little of it to give. Wasn't he the one who was always offering her the reassurance in this mess?
The trip along the hall was silent. Her mind wandered as they walked, going over everything that had happened in the last fifteen or twenty minutes. The fainting spell was worrying. She had some suspicions about that. Suspicions that shouldn't have been a total surprise and yet, somehow, were. She kept that to herself, though. Now wasn't the time to let her mind wander into such dangerous territory. Because she needed all her wits for whatever it was that Sinister wanted with them. It wasn't time for the box. That always came later in the day.
She was so sure they were going to the lab again that she was surprised when the goblins herded them into their room. That surprise slid right into annoyance and rage when they found Sinister waiting for them in what had, up until this moment, been their only sanctuary. He took up so much space that it made their room feel small. And the grin on his face, the way he looked right at Dare, saw her inching closer to Remy.
"I apologize for pulling you away from your precious training. But there is a matter of importance we must discuss," the man said. One of his hands came up from his side to hold a box out toward her. Dare felt her blood rush to her ears and she might have gone down yet again if not for Remy's arm. It curled around her in order to keep her on her feet. A quick glance at his face showed he wasn't surprised by the box Sinister held. "If you would kindly put this to good use."
"No," Dare said, shaking her head at him. "No, I won't."
"Dare," Remy began, but she pushed his arm off and moved away from him so that she stood on her own two feet. She ignored the way the goblins moved closer. She was tired of being his puppet. Tired of this whole mess.
She knew what was going on here. She'd figured it out a long time ago. She'd tried her best to keep it from happening. But Remy was a force to be reckoned with and it was so easy for him to simply steal her will away. So easy for him to work her hunger and desire into a fever pitch. So easy to make her think that he really did love her the way she loved him.
"I know what you're doing. And I refuse to be a part of this insanity," she told Sinister.
"But you already are a part of this insanity, as you call it. You're here, child. You're here and you're pliant to your lover's touch, to his very voice. It is a pity you didn't fight it more. That would have been a show worthy of enjoyment."
"You want a show worthy of enjoyment? Let me have my flames back. We'll have a real laugh while I roast you alive like the fucking pig you are." Despite knowing what she'd find, she reached inside of herself. Looking. Searching. Seeking just a kernel of her powers. Of course she found nothing. Nothing but boiling rage and burning hatred. "You're too much of a chicken shit, though. You know what I can do with the flames at my call."
"As amusing as your show of spine is, child, I'm afraid I must insist you do as you're told."
"Fuck you. I don't answer to you or anyone else. I'm as close to a fucking god as you'll ever see," she snapped.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Dare curled her hand into a fist and threw herself forward. Remy shouted her name and tried to grab her. Tried to hold her back. His fingers grazed the material of her tank top. The sound of the goblins' feet scrabbling across the floor filled the silence that came after her name. She swung, her fist arcing through the air toward Sinister's face. It was her intent to smash his fucking nose and draw blood. To show him she was no one's toy. But his laughter filled her ears a moment before she found herself caught by one hand. A hand that was curled around her throat. His fingers squeezed down hard until she couldn't draw a breath.
He lifted her so easily, as if she weighed nothing. Her hands curled around his wrist to keep him from choking her. Which was stupid. He could snap her neck without thought and she wouldn't be able to stop him. Their eyes met because he'd lifted her until her face was level with his. His smile was the stuff of nightmares. And then he drew her in close until all she could see was the darkness in his eyes. He'd kill her without remorse. She was sure of it. "Your histrionics bore me, girl. Do not make me harm you because you fear the inevitable. Should you die, there will be no reason for me to keep your beloved thief here. Will there? Perhaps think of him if you cannot think of yourself."
His fingers squeezed a little harder, so that spots danced before her vision. "Do as I command you and I will forgive you this... act of rebellion. If you force me to hurt you and ruin my plans, you will wish I'd killed you quickly before you finally die. Do you understand me?"
She tried to swallow around the hold he had on her throat. It was impossible. She stared at Sinister, trying to form words. Trying to think. Trying to do something. Nothing worked. Nothing responded. Nothing happened. She was going to fucking die here. She was going to die and then he was going to kill Remy.
"Do as he ask, Dare. Just do as he ask!" Remy's voice reached her then, filled with desperation that carried past the hoarseness of it. Which made her wonder if he'd been shouting all this time. How had she not heard him if he had? "Please, petit Just do as he ask."
Dare lifted a hand from Sinister's wrist and held it out, palm up. She tried to find Remy, but she couldn't turn her head in the hold Sinister had on her. And he was too far behind her for her to find him by simply shifting her eyes to the side. Sinister's smile sharpened. Deepened. Became the only thing she could see. It was worse than the one she'd seen on Mephisto's face. So much worse.
The box dropped like dead weight into her palm. And then Sinister dropped her like dead weight. She hit the floor hard, coughing and gasping for breath. Remy was there a moment later to help her to her feet. She let him, let him help her to the bathroom.
He left her there alone. The door stood open, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She stared at the box in her hands and felt her world shudder under her feet. She'd felt like this once before, back when she'd barely been an adult. Hopelessness. She was lost and there was no hope. And it didn't matter if she made it back home. Because her life would never be the same.
And later, after she'd peed on the goddamn stick and the double lines had appeared to confirm what she already knew, she couldn't even feel the hopelessness anymore.
She felt nothing.
Chapter Thirteen: The Reckoning, part 2
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs to
dazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar . Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
He stared at Haley, who had her head in her hands and sat hunched over the table. She'd been sitting there for the better part of fifteen minutes and she hadn't looked at him once. It was odd, given just how much she sought him out simply to feel his hands on her skin. Or to feel his lips on hers. This was a Haley he barely recognized.
Oh, he'd seen her before. But it had been such a long time ago. This Haley had only existed for a short time. Right after Harper's death. He'd watched from a distance as she'd grieved the loss of her brother. He'd wanted to go to her, to offer her what comfort he could. But he'd never quite worked up the nerve to do so. He'd figured she wouldn't want anything to do with him. After all, Harper's death had been his fault.
Scott frowned. He hated seeing Haley like this. In the entire three months they'd been in this place, he'd never seen her look as lost and dejected as she did right at that moment. Hell, she hadn't looked this lost and dejected when she'd been torn between Piotr and Johnny.
For a moment, Scott wondered why he hadn't tried to offer her some advice or just a shoulder to lean on when all of that was going on. He'd have gladly done it. And yet... Shaking his head on that, he stood from the couch and crossed the room until he stood behind her. "Haley, sweetheart," he said softly.
Her shoulders jumped up to her ears for a moment, as if in shock or surprise. They dropped quickly enough, but she took her time raising her head to look at him. When she did, he swore she'd been crying. Her eyes were rimmed red and her lashes looked matted. But there were no tell-tale tear tracks on her cheeks. Curious. "Come on." He took her hand in his and gently pulled her from the seat. She allowed it, didn't resist him at all. When he tucked her under his arm so that she was close to him, she snuggled into his side with a sigh.
Something was definitely bothering her.
He took her over to the bed. It was a short walk and she turned questioning eyes his way. "Scott?"
"You look dead on your feet. I think a nap will do you wonders," he explained. One hand reached up to soothe her hair down. It looked extremely disheveled, suggesting to him that she'd run her fingers through it repeatedly.
"I'm not tired," she responded. And he might have bought it. Except she yawned wide enough that he could count all of her teeth. It made him smile at her.
"Of course you aren't. So we'll just lay down and close our eyes for a while. You don't have to nap so long as you rest."
She smiled at him, poking a finger into his side. "Stop mother henning me," she ordered, though it lacked a good deal of command. He caught the offending finger and brought it to his lips in order to press a soft kiss to it. That actions saw her shuddering, her eyes slipping closed as she did so. He thought it a curious reaction, but maybe it was because she was simply tired.
"You know its my job to be a mother hen. If I wasn't a mother hen, there's no telling what some of the X-Men would get up to," he teased.
"Things like betting against their students?" she asked, tone light. He cringed at the reminder anyway.
"You don't have to remind me that what I did was stupid. And, contrary to popular opinion, I never bet on Purple Team washing out," Scott told her, his hands making quick work of her shorts and tank top. She allowed him to prod her into bed, his hands urging her toward her side. When she was settled, he pulled his own tank top off and left it on the floor beside the bed. Then he joined her, tugging her into his arms so that she was pressed up against his side.
"Mhmm," she responded, her tone making it clear she didn't believe him.
"I bet that they would fail their evaluation and have to take it over again. After they got more training time under their belts. After they came together more cohesively as a team," he said in defense of himself. "Purple Team proved that they were far more capable than any of us realized. You passed that eval fair and square."
Haley turned serious green eyes his way. His gut tightened with need when she did so. It took a great deal of will power to keep his hands to himself. "We worked hard for that win, Scott. Damned hard. Even we were questioning whether or not we would be able to pass it."
"You had no reason to worry. You chose your team well. And you're a good leader. Anyone who thinks otherwise can come talk to me. I'll disabuse them of the notion," he said. His statement brought a smile to her face.
"I see. And will you proclaim to the entire school that you were wrong about my team?" she asked. A pair of fingers walked up his arm and across his chest so that they could play with a nipple. Heat licked along his nerves, setting his skin on fire with need. How could she turn him on so easily?
"Sweetheart, I'll sing it from the roof top if I have to," he promised.
"Sweet talker," she replied, voice husky. It was a delicious sound, made him want to devour her whole, here and now. Instead, he rolled up on his side and let his hand glide up her thigh to her hip. She shivered with the touch, moved closer to him so that she could press more of her skin against his. "Love me, Scott. Please."
"Anything you want, Haley," he promised softly. But he didn't make good on the promise. Instead, he gently urged her back until her head rested on her pillow. "First, you need rest. You look like you just got done trying to bring down both Blob and the Juggernaut."
"That good?" she asked, the corners of her mouth tipping up at the corners just a little bit.
"Honey, you look like you've been crying," he pointed out. One hand lifted to stroke the curve of her cheek, prompting her to shudder. He frowned at that. Her reaction was a little over the top. Even for someone who loved being touched as much as she did. "What's going on with you, Haley? The last time I saw you look this haggard, Harper had just died."
He saw pain in her gaze. Just a flash of it. For just a moment. Then it was gone and she was giving him a coy smile he'd seen her use more than once when she'd been trying to steer him away from a topic she didn't like. Even before he could process that smile, her hands were drifting across his chest so that her fingers could tease his nipples. The touch of her nimble fingertips against his flesh saw desire race along every nerve ending. It brought his cock to aching fullness in the blink of an eye.
"Haley," he began, the intent to put her hands on the bed so they could have a chat about what was going on with her. But she wrapped her arms around his neck and rose up just far enough to press her lips to his. Scott groaned at the soft, sweet, hungry kiss. His arms wrapped around her and crushed her close so that he could plunder her mouth as thoroughly as he was able.
A voice at the back of his head warned him that he shouldn't let her distract him. He was beyond certain there was something going on with her. He had a few guesses, but he didn't want to just come out an ask because he could only imagine what kind of awkward situation being wrong would mean for them. But she was so eager and needy. Her body was molded to his and she'd already started to work his shorts off.
Scott dragged his mouth from hers so that he could trail a line of kisses from the corner of her mouth down to her breasts and beyond. The first kiss brought a soft cry from her. The second kiss saw her clutch at him all the harder. By the time his teeth grazed the swell of her breast above the sports bra, she was squirming beneath him. And she was pleading mindlessly for him to fuck her then and there.
The pleading wasn't anything really new. She'd done it time and again during their make out sessions. It was the squirming while doing so that held his attention. He'd never seen Haley squirm quite this much. That voice was suddenly louder, demanding he pull away from her and convince her to tell him what was going on. It also said he needed to do it now, before she made him lose all control. Because that voice was certain that if he didn't, if he didn't convince her to talk to him, it would be twice as hard to do it the next time. And there was no doubt in his mind that there would be a next time.
It took everything in him to gently put Haley away from him. He actually slipped from the bed and took a few paces away in an attempt to get himself under control well enough to have a conversation with him. Haley sat up and stared at him with eyes that were brimming with confusion and hurt. He could well imagine she thought he was rejecting her. But she should know better after all this time.
"Please, Scott. I need you. Please," she begged. He could hear tears in her voice and he wanted to kick himself for it. But they had to have this out. He had to find out what had her acting the way she was.
"I need you, too, Haley. Goddamn it, my cock hurts right now because its so hard. But we need to talk. There's something going on and you are not acting like yourself," he told her, making sure he left no room for doubt regarding his desire for her. "Something is tearing you apart."
~*~
"Tell me what's going on. Let me help you fix it," he urged gently. His words saw panic lance through Haley. It was sharp and electric and it left a queasy feeling in her belly. At least, she thought it came from the panic.
For a moment, she thought she could climb from the bed and distract him by getting down on her knees and sucking him off. But there was such a look of concern and determination on his face that she knew it would be pointless. Her gaze dropped to the bedding and remained there while she fell into thought.
There was no way to convince him that he was wrong. He was too observant for that. And his brain was too methodical for her to shift his focus elsewhere. If there was one thing she knew about Scott Summers, famed leader of the first team of X-Men, it was that he was logical and persistent. He would hammer away at her until she gave him what he wanted. She was just surprised that he hadn't put it together himself. She didn't have much choice. She was going to have to tell him.
The problem was, she didn't know how.
"You can't fix it, Scott," she whispered. The room was silent for a few moments, then the bed dipped as he took a seat on it. One hand reached out to catch her chin. He brought her head up and around until he could see her face. No doubt he saw sadness there. And fear. This... What she had to tell him. It was going to change everything.
"You don't know that, sweetheart," he replied gently. She smiled and shook her head. As much to deny this words as to keep him from seeing the tears that were welling up.
"Oh, trust me. I know," she said.
"Haley. Talk to me. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. We'll find some way to - "
"I'm pregnant, Scott," Haley blurted, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. The silence that fell between them was strange. Uncomfortable. She lifted her head, unable to stop herself from seeking out his face. Maybe... Maybe there'd be something good there. Maybe he'd be happy.
He was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. As if he didn't know what to do with the news. Haley turned away, told herself silently that she wouldn't cry. Not in front of him. She wasn't going to let him see how hurt she was by that look. "That's why you've looked like you haven't slept for the past few days. That's why you were a little unsteady on your feet when you stood up from the couch the other day."
"Yes," she responded, despite the fact that he hadn't asked any questions.
"Haley," he said.
"Look. I get it. Its a huge shock. And it wasn't really what you wanted to hear from me," she got out. She even felt like it came out sounding normal. "But we both knew that this was Sinister's end goal. A baby to give to Apocalypse. A baby to turn into War."
"Haley." Scott's voice was a little closer. She didn't have to look to know he'd leaned toward her. She could practically feel the heat of his body on hers.
"I know we won't get to keep her. He'll take her away as soon as she's born and we'll never see her again unless we have to do battle with Apocalypse. But there's a part of me that wants that to not be true. There's a part of me..." She trailed off then, unable to finish the sentence. Because it would never happen. There would never be a them. And Sinister would take their baby. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you. Even though... I thought you should know. I thought maybe... "
Her words choked off on a soft sob. Haley wrapped her arms around herself and curled inward. Her hair fell forward to hide her face, to shield her misery and her sorrow. The tears fell silently, sliding down her cheeks to drop from her chin into her lap.
"Haley. Look at me," Scott said.
"I know this isn't fair to you. I know you'd much rather have a baby with someone you love but I - " Her words were swallowed by another sob. She was grateful for it. She'd almost let it out. She'd almost admitted to him that she was head over heels in love with him. That she'd never regret becoming pregnant with his child. But she couldn't. It wouldn't be fair. He'd go home to Jean and she'd be left with an aching hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. Because he'd take it with him when he walked away.
"Haley," Scott said again, his voice sharper. Deeper. "Icon. Look at me."
She couldn't stop herself from responding to the command in his voice. Despite her misery, despite the tears that fell without hindrance, she lifted her head and stared at him with despair in her eyes. Scott stared at her a moment, his eyes searching her face. For several moments, he stared and searched. And then he smiled. As if he'd found what he was looking for. His hands came up and took hold of her. They pulled her, unresisting, into his embrace. His thumbs stroked the tears from her cheeks even as he continued to stare into her eyes.
"Haley. Sweetheart. Haven't you figured it out yet?" he asked. She stared up at him, lost in her misery. She didn't understand the tender look in his eyes. Or the soft smile that teased at his lips.
"Figured what out?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Not in words. Not just then. He answered by lowering her carefully to the bed and settling over her. He answered by kissing her until she needed to breathe in the worst possible way and she couldn't see straight. He answered by running his hands over every inch of skin until she squirmed beneath him and sighed into his mouth when he kissed her again and scored his back with her nails.
He showed her by stripping her naked and pressing himself inside of her. His tenderness brought a fresh spate of tears and he kissed every single one of them away as he made slow, tender love to her. He showed her by lavishing attention to every single inch of skin with strong fingers, sharp teeth, and soft lips. He showed her over and over again as he took her up and up. Until he took her so high that she couldn't think straight. Couldn't see straight. Didn't care. He showed her by bringing her to orgasm so many times she lost count.
He showed her by giving every last bit of himself to her.
And when it was over, when she lay spent in his arms, gasping for breath and unable to even move.. that was when he used his words. Sleep was creeping over her when Scott tugged her up against his side and settled the sheet over them. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stroked a hand down her back.
She heard his whispered words echo quietly in the stillness of their room. "There isn't anyone I'd rather have a baby with, Haley."
Warmth flooded her heart when she heard his statement. She was sure they were meant to soothe her battered spirits and make her feel better. She shouldn't let herself believe them. But she did. She let them wrap themselves around her and fill her. She'd chastise herself about it later, when she wasn't wrapped in his warm embrace. She'd deal with all the fallout later.
For now, she'd let herself believe that he loved her.
~*~
Remy paused in his warm up to give his attention to Dare. She stood in front of the heavy bag yet again, hands wrapped and curled into fists that she held up at shoulder level. She was staring intently at the bag, as if she was trying to decipher its next move. Odd, to be sure, because every other time she'd been in front of the heavy bag, she'd been jabbing at it with all the intensity of a tiger stalking its prey. Today, it seemed as if she was barely focused on what she was doing.
There'd been a lot of odd things happening lately. He'd noticed, over the past week or more, that she'd gotten paler. Not much. It was hard to tell if you weren't spending day in and day out with her. She'd always been pale, had gotten paler after returning from the dead. But lately, the paleness had reached near death levels. It suggested she was unwell. He didn't like that idea one bit.
Then there were the nights she'd climbed from bed and rushed to the bathroom, only to retch loudly enough that it roused him from a deep sleep. He'd faked still being asleep when she'd returned to bed. Obviously, she hadn't wanted to discuss it with him. But she'd still snuggled into him the moment she'd settled down and gone back to sleep with her arm thrown over him. As if she owned him. Or as if he anchored her when she felt she would simply float away.
There had been times he'd caught her on the verge of tears for seemingly no reason. And other times that she'd been angry. Frustrated. Simply moody. Again, for seemingly no reason. He'd considered asking her about it. But he'd ultimately decided to hold on to his questions because something had told him she wouldn't give him any acceptable answers.
Damn the woman and her secretive ways. Not that he blamed her. Living on the streets made it hard to trust people. Made it easy to keep everything close to the chest. He should know. He'd done his own time living on the streets. He understood the need to hide everything away. It made it harder for people to use you or abuse you. But she had to know that he wouldn't do that to her. She should have learned by now that she could trust him.
He frowned and thought back to the last time they'd had a real discussion. That had been the night he'd pried her secrets out of her. The night he'd watched her heart break right before him and nothing he'd said had helped make her feel better. Nothing had helped put her back together. He'd tried to show her how much he cared. He wasn't sure it had worked all that well.
She'd gone back to tucking her emotions away again, as if letting them run free was a bad thing. How she did it, he didn't know. It drove him up the wall trying to find an honest, full emotion on her some days. He couldn't be sure what went on in her mind because he only got brief glimpses of her emotions. And those glimpses were all watered down. Again, the only time her emotions were left unfiltered was when they were engaged in any sexual acts.
Frustration filled him. In some ways, it felt like he hadn't gotten her to break open and share her feelings with him. She engaged more fully with him. She laughed with him, teased him, talked to him the way any normal person would. But it wasn't normal by any sense of the word. Because he could still feel the hesitance in her. He could still feel that she was holding herself back and he didn't understand it. Didn't she realize that she didn't have to hide herself away and hold herself back? Not with him?
The sound of flesh slapping leather drew him from his thoughts. He found Dare engaged in pummeling the heavy bag. Her arms moved methodically in a pattern he recognized. She wasn't moving quite as fast as she had on previous visits to the gym. And she wasn't hitting as hard. Both of which gave him pause. For just a moment. But he put the faint thread of worry aside and left her to her own musings. No doubt she was planning ways in which to keep his mind off his questions. The ones she seemed to fear so much that she'd cheated to get him to let it go. That had only made him wonder about the answers even more. Enough that he'd been holding on to them for the last month and a half.
Assured she was somewhere near okay, he turned back to his warm up exercises. And he turned back to his thoughts.
He'd told her he loved her that night. He'd seen, for a short time, the hope that his admission had brought to life in her eyes. Then that flare of hope had dimmed and disappeared, leaving her eyes a little emptier. A little duller. He hadn't needed to ask or even dig to know that she'd thought he was telling her what she'd wanted to hear. And, if he was being honest with himself, he couldn't blame her.
She'd spent a decade, possibly longer, harboring a secret love for him. A love he'd been certain was little more than infatuation. A love she'd buried so deep, he'd never seen it until recently. There hadn't even been a hint of it when they'd dated so briefly way back. Except... He remembered the morning after that disastrous threesome he'd had with her and Morgan. When he'd seen her with Logan. There'd been so much fear in her face. He'd taken note of that. He thought she'd been afraid of having been discovered. Maybe it had been for another reason entirely.
Frowning, he pushed the thought aside. It was a memory. The past was gone and nothing he could do would change it. Nothing she could do would change it, either. He needed to focus on the here and now. Except his mind chose to thrust at him that moment in the hallway when he'd touched her mind with his. When he'd been searching for the truth. He'd asked her if it was over and he'd been waiting for her answer. Using the touch of his mind against hers to prove her answer either truth or falsehood. He'd felt the fear while she'd sought her answer. More than that, he'd felt a faint sense of desperation before she'd answered. Before he'd pulled away.
Before he'd shut her out completely.
She'd hurt him with her decisions that day. But he'd hurt her, too. More than she'd hurt him. First, by never sitting down and letting her know that she was worth more than she believed. Than he'd let her believe. She'd gone through their relationship believing he wanted nothing more from her than sex and easy companionship. Then he'd hurt her again by taking away the one part of him he'd allowed her to have. He owed her an apology. He owed her more than an apology.
Without thinking, he let his mind drift down the link he shared with her. He still didn't understand why Sinister hadn't blocked it when he'd blocked the link both of them shared with Morgan. Not that he was going to knock it. Being able to touch her mind, as noisy as it sometimes was, was better than being cut off completely.
When he turned his attention back to the link, it was to find that it felt... foggy. Slow and thick. A finger of fear and worry traced his spine, forced him to turn toward Dare. He found her standing before the heavy bag, her hands still up before her. They were lower now, though, and her fists looked far too loose top punch with. More than that, she was kind of wobbly on her feet. It looked like she was kind of rocking from side to side.
Then he was in motion because the link between them went black and Dare's knees went out from under her.
~*~
"Dare! Come on, petit. Open you eyes! Look at me. Please."
His voice was strident with worry and, when she managed to open her eyes, it was to find that her head rested in his lap. A head that felt thick and syrupy. Remy was staring down into her eyes with concern written all over his face. His hands were cupped against her cheeks and fear seemed to pour from them into her. She reached up and tried to bat one of them aside. Her coordination was off and her fingers just sort of hooked onto his. "You're too loud," she snapped at him.
Remy frowned at her a moment before helping her into a sitting position. He did so in a way that saw her sitting in his lap, his arms wound tightly around her. The kiss he pressed to her forehead was filled with his concern. "You scared de life out of me."
"I'm okay. Just a little woozy," she grumbled. The way he clung to her was... strange. And she swore she could feel his mind layered over hers.
"You pass out, Dare," he informed her. She looked up into his face and saw the worry there. It had taken the place of the fear that had been there just moments ago. And it was in his eyes, in the way he looked at her. That made her frown.
"I did?" It seemed weird to ask him that when she'd found herself laying on the floor with her head pillowed in his lap. He'd helped her sit up. Even now, he held her close. She frowned at the evidence. "I don't pass out. I don't think I've ever passed out."
"Dare," Remy began. She could hear something in his voice that she chose not to look at too closely. Nor did she name it. She wasn't ready for that. Because she felt certain she knew what he was going to say.
"I'm fine, Remy," she said and pulled away from him. He was reluctant to let her go, but she didn't give him much of a choice. Unless he was prepared to wrestle with her, she was getting out of his lap. "I've just been pushing myself too hard lately."
He rose to his feet, his movements as graceful and fluid as ever. She felt stiff and clunky next to him. For some reason, the comparison saw her want to cry and argue all at the same time. Instead of giving in to either one of them, she turned to her temper and let anger set her to rights. When she turned to face him, Remy's concern was written all over his face. And he was far too close for her comfort. Dare frowned at him. "Quit hovering. I'm fine!"
"You not fine, Dare," he replied immediately. One hand reached out to curl around her arm. She wasn't sure if it was to prevent her from walking away from him or if it was to offer her his support if she got light-headed again. She wanted to jerk her arm from his hold, but she didn't. Moments later, it was unimportant as the door slid open and a quartet of goblins entered the gym.
"You will come with us," one of them said. Gods, how she hated that line. She wanted to fight them, wanted to kick everyone of them in the creepy little spider face until she put out all their eyes. She didn't, though. She'd seen how fast the fuckers could move. How quickly they could lash out with their tail. She wanted nothing to do with their stingers or their claws. Those body parts meant bad things.
"Our time in the gym isn't up yet," she said. The clock on the wall said so.
"It is. You will come with us," the same goblin said. It skittered forward so quickly that it was just suddenly standing in front of her. One of its hands, with those glistening claws, reached for her. Remy pulled her out of its reach just before it would have touched her and put himself between them.
"We gon' come," he told the goblin, his tone genial. But the tension in his shoulders belied that tone. Remy turned to look at her, his eyes pleading. She could see the concern on his face. "Don' fight it, petit. Just do as it say."
She opened her mouth to argue, but she was struck with the notion that he'd called her petite again. Not once, but twice now. She wondered at it for a moment before Remy nudged her into motion. She realized that the goblins had surrounded them without her realizing. Frowning at her lapse, she fell into step with him and wondered just what the pervert-in-chief wanted with them now.
She didn't miss the way Remy was damn near glued to her side. There was tension in his shoulders and the hand that rested on her back. In fact, his fingers moved restlessly against her lower back in a pattern she recognized as one of his warm up exercises when he had the bo staff in hand. She glanced up at him to try and offer reassurance. But she had very little of it to give. Wasn't he the one who was always offering her the reassurance in this mess?
The trip along the hall was silent. Her mind wandered as they walked, going over everything that had happened in the last fifteen or twenty minutes. The fainting spell was worrying. She had some suspicions about that. Suspicions that shouldn't have been a total surprise and yet, somehow, were. She kept that to herself, though. Now wasn't the time to let her mind wander into such dangerous territory. Because she needed all her wits for whatever it was that Sinister wanted with them. It wasn't time for the box. That always came later in the day.
She was so sure they were going to the lab again that she was surprised when the goblins herded them into their room. That surprise slid right into annoyance and rage when they found Sinister waiting for them in what had, up until this moment, been their only sanctuary. He took up so much space that it made their room feel small. And the grin on his face, the way he looked right at Dare, saw her inching closer to Remy.
"I apologize for pulling you away from your precious training. But there is a matter of importance we must discuss," the man said. One of his hands came up from his side to hold a box out toward her. Dare felt her blood rush to her ears and she might have gone down yet again if not for Remy's arm. It curled around her in order to keep her on her feet. A quick glance at his face showed he wasn't surprised by the box Sinister held. "If you would kindly put this to good use."
"No," Dare said, shaking her head at him. "No, I won't."
"Dare," Remy began, but she pushed his arm off and moved away from him so that she stood on her own two feet. She ignored the way the goblins moved closer. She was tired of being his puppet. Tired of this whole mess.
She knew what was going on here. She'd figured it out a long time ago. She'd tried her best to keep it from happening. But Remy was a force to be reckoned with and it was so easy for him to simply steal her will away. So easy for him to work her hunger and desire into a fever pitch. So easy to make her think that he really did love her the way she loved him.
"I know what you're doing. And I refuse to be a part of this insanity," she told Sinister.
"But you already are a part of this insanity, as you call it. You're here, child. You're here and you're pliant to your lover's touch, to his very voice. It is a pity you didn't fight it more. That would have been a show worthy of enjoyment."
"You want a show worthy of enjoyment? Let me have my flames back. We'll have a real laugh while I roast you alive like the fucking pig you are." Despite knowing what she'd find, she reached inside of herself. Looking. Searching. Seeking just a kernel of her powers. Of course she found nothing. Nothing but boiling rage and burning hatred. "You're too much of a chicken shit, though. You know what I can do with the flames at my call."
"As amusing as your show of spine is, child, I'm afraid I must insist you do as you're told."
"Fuck you. I don't answer to you or anyone else. I'm as close to a fucking god as you'll ever see," she snapped.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Dare curled her hand into a fist and threw herself forward. Remy shouted her name and tried to grab her. Tried to hold her back. His fingers grazed the material of her tank top. The sound of the goblins' feet scrabbling across the floor filled the silence that came after her name. She swung, her fist arcing through the air toward Sinister's face. It was her intent to smash his fucking nose and draw blood. To show him she was no one's toy. But his laughter filled her ears a moment before she found herself caught by one hand. A hand that was curled around her throat. His fingers squeezed down hard until she couldn't draw a breath.
He lifted her so easily, as if she weighed nothing. Her hands curled around his wrist to keep him from choking her. Which was stupid. He could snap her neck without thought and she wouldn't be able to stop him. Their eyes met because he'd lifted her until her face was level with his. His smile was the stuff of nightmares. And then he drew her in close until all she could see was the darkness in his eyes. He'd kill her without remorse. She was sure of it. "Your histrionics bore me, girl. Do not make me harm you because you fear the inevitable. Should you die, there will be no reason for me to keep your beloved thief here. Will there? Perhaps think of him if you cannot think of yourself."
His fingers squeezed a little harder, so that spots danced before her vision. "Do as I command you and I will forgive you this... act of rebellion. If you force me to hurt you and ruin my plans, you will wish I'd killed you quickly before you finally die. Do you understand me?"
She tried to swallow around the hold he had on her throat. It was impossible. She stared at Sinister, trying to form words. Trying to think. Trying to do something. Nothing worked. Nothing responded. Nothing happened. She was going to fucking die here. She was going to die and then he was going to kill Remy.
"Do as he ask, Dare. Just do as he ask!" Remy's voice reached her then, filled with desperation that carried past the hoarseness of it. Which made her wonder if he'd been shouting all this time. How had she not heard him if he had? "Please, petit Just do as he ask."
Dare lifted a hand from Sinister's wrist and held it out, palm up. She tried to find Remy, but she couldn't turn her head in the hold Sinister had on her. And he was too far behind her for her to find him by simply shifting her eyes to the side. Sinister's smile sharpened. Deepened. Became the only thing she could see. It was worse than the one she'd seen on Mephisto's face. So much worse.
The box dropped like dead weight into her palm. And then Sinister dropped her like dead weight. She hit the floor hard, coughing and gasping for breath. Remy was there a moment later to help her to her feet. She let him, let him help her to the bathroom.
He left her there alone. The door stood open, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She stared at the box in her hands and felt her world shudder under her feet. She'd felt like this once before, back when she'd barely been an adult. Hopelessness. She was lost and there was no hope. And it didn't matter if she made it back home. Because her life would never be the same.
And later, after she'd peed on the goddamn stick and the double lines had appeared to confirm what she already knew, she couldn't even feel the hopelessness anymore.
She felt nothing.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-14 05:30 pm (UTC)Haley and Scott being playful and flirty with each other is messing with my brain, but in a good way. lol It's refreshing to see Scott so relaxed, tbh. Yeah, she's definitely trying to distract him. And of course he won't let her.
Holy shit. Just.... Damn. Lovely, my dear. Though I am a bit miffed that Scott didn't actually use those three little words when he finally did speak.
Of course only Dare could make Remy doubt himself. smh He's got to know, on some level - right? I mean, they already have a child together (iirc) - at the very least he's been around her when she's been pregnant in the past. And Morgan too for that matter. I know she's good at hiding her feelings and shit, but still. And there she goes defaulting to anger again. C'mon Dare. It's okay to let Remy in. I promise.
Sinister being in their room was just wrong on so many levels. You'd think he'd be monitoring things so closely that he wouldn't even need them to take tests. Poor, poor Dare. I really hope that Remy can get her to open up and trust him. Let him comfort her.
Kudos, bb! *smooches*
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-14 08:38 pm (UTC)i really like how they play off each other. i think, with the weight of the teams taken off his shoulders (even if its just in some small way for a short amount of time) gives him the chance to breathe and just... be Scott. especially since he doesn't have to deal with his powers. Haley is absolutely trying to distract him and he's figured her out, so he's not having it.
you know, it is such a challenge to write this fic, which is so heavy on the sex aspect, and not do a whole bunch of sex. and STILL keep it from being boring and rote! i don't know what is up with me and a smutty fic that isn't actually super smutty. also, he sort of did. just... not in the conventional way.
Dare is... let's face it. she's special. in so many not good ways. he absolutely knows. he and Dare do not have a child together. but he's been around her and Morgan and all of the other girls. so he absolutely knows what to look for. but he also knows if he even mentions the word, Dare will just go deeper inside of herself. so..
the anger, surprisingly, is more at herself and the situation. because she knows what's going on as well as he does. and she's using it as a way to pretend, for just a little longer, that she's wrong.
so, Sinister being in their room came to me as i was writing Dare's part. i'd like to think that the implication is he showed up to everyone's room. i just didn't think about it until i was almost done and... yeah. hindsight. so i like to think that they all got a visit. we only saw the one, though. he's absolutely monitoring everything and i'm pretty sure he doesn't need the test. its for them.
we'll see if she lets Remy in. but that girl... sighs i have my doubts
glad you enjoyed, sweetie! thanks for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-14 07:16 pm (UTC)The implication that Scott could have been her hero since the beginning makes me want to play what if (maybe one day). The level of comfort Scott and Haley have together is palpable and makes everything hit so much harder. I love that he's willing to admit how wrong he was, and she can tease him about him being a dumbass. The fact that he has to fight to keep his hands off her when she's trying to change the subject is a nice touch.
And poor Haley. She's beating herself up even knowing she couldn't have stopped this. She's in so deep she can't see what's going on.
For now, she'd let herself believe that he loved her.
That is heartbreaking.
Remy has a lot of puzzle pieces to put together and it seems like Dare is just not going to let him see the picture. He's always good at picking up things, even when she doesn't want him too. Present news included. I love that he gets why she keeps things close in ways that only he can really understand among the bunch of them.
Also I am glad someone close to Dare realizes that the three people closest to her haven't done enough to fight back her negative self-talk. Maybe Haley gets some back up now? ;)
The difference between Dare burying the news further and Haley just blurting it out is lovely. They really are two sides of the same coin with a lot of this stuff. Also, the renewed, through ever present threat of the goblins and Sinister in their room... yikes. You know he's always there, and always probably watching, but to put him in that space ups the game in a big way. Well done!
Here's hoping Remy can pull Dare out of the nothing again.
Great work, hun. The shit has officially hit the fan and the fall out is going to be spectacular, I have no doubt!
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-14 08:52 pm (UTC)i'm sure you'll get around to that "What If" eventually. i know you've got stuff you want to knock out first. but it could be interesting to see how it went without all the bullshit between then and now. i really like the conversation they had there. before it got all serious. and i really like the idea that the girls had the wrong idea about the bet. i can't see Scott, as responsible and upright as he is, actually wanting a team to wash out so badly that they never get off the ground. and, so... you get this.
yes. Haley's beating herself up for something completely beyond her control. i suspect there will be a lot of that going around. here's hoping that they'll see the whole mess for what it is.
i will make it up to Haley. i swear. its just going to take a hot minute to get there.
Remy has quite a bit of it figured out. i think he's been expecting it. Dare is so riddled with guilt that she simply cannot see the shit that's right in front of her nose. i mean, there's so much more to it than just the guilt. but that's the big one that's keeping her all fucked up. i have faith that Remy will find the patience to sort her out properly. i'm just not sure how he's going to convince her that he's genuine. the living on the streets parallel was a thing that stuck me while i was writing and i like how it plays out. i mean, it isn't like all of them aren't walking around with shit in their heads and hearts that they don't want anyone else to know about. but Remy and Dare have that one special link between them.
i think Dare is burying it because, if she does, she can pretend for a while longer that it isn't real. and Haley... i can't see her not letting it slip. she's not denying that it happened to herself the way Dare is. as i told Nan, i think Sinister showed up in everyone's room. i just showed it there because a.) i'd only just thought of it then and b.) i didn't want to be redundant.
we'll see if Remy can work that miracle. i hope he can. she needs to stop blaming herself for everything. sometimes things just happen, Dare. let it go.
glad you enjoyed! yes. the shit has officially hit the fan and its only going to get worse from here!