Among the Strong
Aug. 1st, 2024 11:26 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 Twenty Five: Battles
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
Duke knew something was wrong the moment he saw her silhouette. Even from a distance. She was cloaked in shadows, sitting under the gazebo as she was. His mutation gave him excellent eyesight, especially in shadowy or dark places. With the sun directly overhead, Dare was in complete shade. But even at a distance, he could tell that there was something wrong.
Pausing to take a moment, Duke let his thoughts shift back to the conversation he'd had with Logan when he'd returned to the school. He, and the rest of the team, had gone back into the city to deal with some minor problem plaguing the mutant community there. He'd gotten the call from Charisma shortly after he'd left Jehnna with Sam Guthrie. Charisma had told him that the Seer had given her information on some criminal activity that the police wouldn't bother with. What did they care if someone made life hard for mutants?
So he and the others had headed back into the city. Before Dare had returned. Something that had rubbed Duke wrong the entire time they'd been gone. Because some instinct that told him that Dare was going to need him. He couldn't say why he'd felt that way. But the feeling had kept eating at the back of his brain the entire time they'd been gone. It hadn't gotten in his way of being a hero and doing his job. But it had made the time away from the school feel long and painful.
He'd known something was up when he'd returned and had been met by a scowling Logan, who had more or less ordered him to go find Dare and see how she was doing. No explanation as to why. That, added to his extra gruff asshole manner, had put Duke on edge immediately. And so he'd gone off in search of his team leader. He'd expected some depression. Unhappiness. Even anger. He hadn't expected... whatever this was.
Heaving a soft sigh, Duke started the trek across the grass toward the gazebo. It didn't take him long to cover the distance and, as he neared, he could see more details. Dare had her back to him, her shoulders rounded with what he could only assume was defeat. A faint wind teased her hair, left to hang free and longer than he remembered it being. She wore a black t-shirt that hung long on her. It was likely she was wearing shorts, but he couldn't be certain. Not that it mattered. He wasn't here to critique her clothing choices. He was here to see what had put a bug up the angry little beaver's hairy ass.
The aged wood squeaked under his foot when he put his weight on it. There was no outward sign she knew he was there. No movement or shift to tell him she was aware of his presence. But Duke was fairly certain Dare knew she wasn't alone any longer. He was also fairly certain she'd set his ass on fire if she didn't want him near her. So he took the few needed steps required to reach her, then moved around so that he could see her face.
Dare was staring out at the grounds, her face and her eyes empty. She looked nothing like the assured and confident leader she'd been since he'd first met her. She looked lost and scared and very much like a child. She was older than he was but she looked like his little sister. Frightened. Vulnerable. In desperate need of a friend. He had to stomp down on his temper because he didn't want to let it loose and risk spooking her.
Instead, Duke found a smile and eased himself down onto the bench just a foot or so away, body turned so that he faced her. "What are you doing out here by yourself, Dare?" he asked, doing his best to look small and non-threatening. A hard task when he knew she knew how he looked when he used his powers. But he thought he did an admirable job.
Silence stretched between them as she continued to stare. The longer it went, the more Duke worried that she wouldn't speak to him. Which saw his temper spiking another notch. Finally, she turned to look at him and he caught a flicker of something in her gaze before she shuttered it away. "I spent a year locked in a room," she said by way of explanation. There was nothing in her voice to give her feelings away, but Duke could well imagine just how angry and frustrated that had left her.
"Cabin fever. I get it." Duke stared at her, wondering what had happened to erode the confidence he'd always seen in her. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you got back. Charisma called us with a job and it was important enough that we felt we had to go."
"You don't have to explain," she said. Her voice was quiet. He still heard the hurt in it.
"But no one was here for you. Were they?" He remembered Logan telling him after he'd found Jehnna that the other man was heading out. Stupid asshole. It had been made obvious that shit had gone down while Dare and the other seven X-Men had been missing that suggested they'd need someone to lean on when they got back.
"It doesn't matter," she whispered, her eyes slipping away from his face.
"Of course it matters. There should have been someone here for you. I should have been here for you. No doubt things would have been less frightening if you'd had someone to hold your hand," he returned. She shrugged a shoulder, like it hadn't been any big deal. Like that was normal. It reminded him of so many people he knew who had been on the streets at one time or another. And that included himself. They'd all learned, through hard lessons, that the only person they felt they could rely on was themselves. It was obvious Dare still held that one close to the chest.
Duke had to wonder, for a moment or two, how someone had missed that Dare needed so much more than she was getting. Oh, it was obvious the people she surrounded herself with loved her. And maybe they thought that was enough. But Duke had been there. He'd been that kid with weird powers living on the streets and he'd been angry and he'd wanted to rail at the world. He'd also gotten past that because he'd had people who had seen what he was going through and they'd helped him. It was why he was so goddamn eager to do the shit that Dare and her friends did. He wanted to help people.
Why had no one helped Dare? Didn't they see that she was drowning?
Suddenly, that foot of distance between them felt like too much and Duke scooted closer. He reached out and settled his hand on her shoulder. The move saw her eyes swinging back toward him. He saw, for just a fleeting moment, the flash of something faint and ghostly in her gaze. Hope. Then it was gone, dashed upon the rocks of her years of struggle and it made his rage burn hotter and harder. "Dare. You know you can ask for help, right? You know you don't have to deal with everything on your own. Asking for help, needing help, does not make you weak. It makes you human."
She blinked at him, almost as if she didn't understand what it was he was telling her. Then turned away from him. It didn't stop him from seeing the tears filling her eyes. The painful loneliness that crowded into the sorrow. How the fuck had Logan not seen this? How had the man who professed to love her completely missed that she was sinking lower and lower into a pit from which she could not pull herself? How the fuck was the mother fucker still alive?
Throwing caution to the wind, Duke dragged Dare into his lap and hugged her close. She didn't fight. She just kind of... melted into his arms. He pretended not to notice the tears that dampened his shirt. "You can tell me anything, Dare. You can ask me for any help you need. I'll do whatever I can for you. I swear it."
His words were a whispered promise in her ear that saw her crying harder. He meant it, too. Dare was more than just the leader he followed. She was a member of his family. She was one of the first people he'd ever met who had put her faith in him and treated him with respect. Had treated him like he was worth something. That mission she'd taken him and the others on, the one to rescue Haley, had been the first time he'd felt like he was more than just some freak mutant. She'd given him her respect and she'd treated him like an equal. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her.
"Tell me why you're sitting out here by yourself? Tell me why you look like your world ended," he prodded gently.
"Its my problem to deal with," she told him. Her voice was thick and watery. He could still hear the fear in it. The reluctance.
"You can't shoulder everything by yourself, Dare," he informed her. "Your back is breaking from all of the shit you carry. I'd be a really terrible friend if I didn't offer to help share the load."
She was silent for a few moments and, briefly, he hoped that meant she was going to share her burdens. But it became obvious that she was shutting herself away again when she extricated herself from his hold and moved to sit on the gazebo bench once again. Her gaze moved back to the trees around them and it remained there. Duke wanted to push, but he understood that doing so would make things worse. Dare had to realize, on her own, that his offer was genuine and he would do whatever he could to help her.
"Did you see any of the others?" she asked quietly. The question cut through the silence between them. Duke took a breath and let it go on a soft sigh.
"I checked in on Morgan. She looks positively love struck. By both her daughter and Warren. She seemed happy to see me. We talked a few minutes. I found out from her that Jehnna is in labor and Sam went to join her in the infirmary," he replied. He saw no reaction to that. "It sounded to me like Sam was excited that his baby was going to be born soon. Morgan and Warren both said he tore out of their rooms like he had the devil on his heels."
She made a noise at the back of her throat but said nothing to that. He didn't miss the way her hands fisted in her lap. It was a tell, but he didn't know what that tell was saying.
"Haley looks rough," he said. He'd been kind of surprised to see Purple Team's leader so lost.
"Johnny and Scott both left her," she replied. It was confirmation of something Duke had kind of suspected.
"She acted like she was okay. And she told me she's worried about you. She doesn't see you that often and she can't tell if you're eating or sleeping or anything."
"Haley diverts when things go badly." It was an explanation about Haley's behavior. Duke had kind of figured it out after talking to Haley, but having Dare confirm it was good. Because he felt like he was going to have to do the same for Haley as he was trying to do for Dare.
"She said you're avoiding Logan and Remy."
She lifted a shoulder again.
"Why are you avoiding them? I thought you loved them."
She continued to stare out at the trees, and Duke figured that was the end of their conversation. He hadn't gotten a lot from her. Not that he'd expected to. He'd figured out, over the passing months since he'd met her, that she kept a lot to herself. But he had severely misjudged just how much she kept bottled up inside. And he was starting to understand that it was because she'd never had anyone in her life she felt she could trust with those deeper parts of herself. Again, he wondered how Logan hadn't seen this and he wondered why she felt she couldn't trust him enough with her secrets.
He was deep in his thoughts when her voice drew him back to the here and now. "I don't want Logan to see how dirty I am," she whispered.
Duke chewed on that statement for a moment. And then a moment longer. Because the thoughts it brought screaming to life were not good ones. He'd spent enough time on the streets that he could read between the lines well enough so he understood what it was she'd said without actually saying it. And the idea that someone would hurt her, or anyone, like that was more than enough to send his blood pressure rocketing into space.
"I'm sure he doesn't think that," Duke responded. Though, to be honest, he didn't know for certain that was how Logan felt. Dare knew him better than Duke did. Tucking that idea away for the moment, he asked her another question. "What about Remy? Why don't you want to see him?"
Dare frowned at his question. As if she didn't understand it. Or maybe she was trying to find the right way to explain it. Finally, she turned a look toward him that was all wide, troubled grey eyes and sadness. "Because he belongs to Morgan. The sooner he realizes that's how its supposed to be, the better off we'll both be."
Duke stared. He had no words. She honestly thought that was how it was supposed to be. It was, in some ways, the rationalization of a child. But he knew there was more to it than just that. There was something Dare wasn't telling him. Something that would make it all make sense. Something that he knew she wasn't going to tell him, no matter how much he asked.
He was going to have to go to the source for answers.
So Duke lapsed into silence and simply sat there, occupying the same place as Dare. He hoped it was enough to prove to her that he cared. But given how twisted it seemed her thinking was, he just didn't know.
~*~
A loud, mournful sigh cut into the sounds of the bar around him, followed by the solid thump of glass hitting the surface of the bar. It drew Logan's attention to the man sitting on his right. "I don' believe she do dis to me."
Remy sat more or less slumped on his barstool, one arm laid across the front of the bar in order to steady himself. The fingers of his free hand ran absently around the rim of his tumbler over and over. He was staring at the far wall blindly, the look on his face suggesting he was no happier with things than Logan was. Not that he blamed the Cajun. There was a lot of shit to be unhappy with.
Logan stared at the beer before him, the bottle still frosty from the cooler out of which it had come. This was his fourth so far and he was almost done with it. The two of them had only been there for an hour. He needed to slow down and pace himself. But his gut was all twisted up with worry. So much shit was fucked up. He didn't have any idea how to fix it. Hell. He didn't have any idea how to fix his personal shit. It was bad enough that he couldn't get close to Dare, but things had no doubt changed where Morgan was concerned and he didn't know how he was going to approach that.
He thought he'd found a way to check in on Dare without spooking her. He and Remy had been leaving the school to hit the nearest bar and drink until they forgot about their problems for a while. It had been then, when they'd been on their way to the garage, that he'd met up with Duke. It had struck him, the moment he'd seen the boy, that this might be a sign and so, much as it rubbed him the wrong way to do so, he'd put his trust in Duke. He'd told the kid, voice gruff as he'd done so, to go check on Dare for him. He'd figured his girl would open up to the boy in a way she wouldn't for anyone else. They were tight and he got the impression that she trusted Duke a good deal.
Maybe the kid could get her to talk. He sure as hell wasn't having any luck. Hell, most of the time, he couldn't even find her. He knew the same could be said for his drinking companion.
'Heartless woman," Remy muttered, tapping the glass against the bar to order another. Logan had lost count just how many bourbons Rem had sucked down already, but it had to have been a lot because he sure as hell looked like he was slowly listing to the side. The bartender gave Remy the hairy eyeball, but he filled the tumbler again. This time, Remy sipped at it. "Why she gon' treat me dis way?"
It took a moment to parse what Remy said because the bourbon had deepened his accent and it was damn near impossible to tell what he was saying. Fuck. The boy was sauced and he'd driven. That meant getting him home was going to be a nightmare. "I think you've had enough, Rem," he said, one hand reaching for the boy's glass. Despite all of the alcohol he'd consumed, he was surprisingly quick. The tumbler was soon out of Logan's reach. He glared at the other man, ready to read him the riot act.
"Why you gon' take dis poor Cajun's drink? Don' you see I'm heartbroken?" Remy asked. Logan snorted at that. Remy shot him a dirty look that very politely told him to get fucked. That certainly wasn't happening any time soon. "My girls... " Remy's words trailed off as a pained expression crossed his face. It lingered for a moment and Logan could see a flurry of thought spin though his companion's gaze. Then he sighed and shook his head, one long-fingered hand pushing his drink away from him. "Morgan don' need me."
Well, that certainly wasn't what Logan had been expecting. But he supposed it made sense. Remy and Morgan had been a couple for a long time. And it wasn't like a person could turn off their feelings for someone else just because circumstances made loving them difficult. Thinking on it, though, Logan realized he was more or less in the same boat.
He was pretty sure that Remy was smart enough to know that his shit was his to deal with and he wasn't going to make it anyone else's problem. Logan was the same. That didn't make it any easier to watch someone you'd spent a good portion of your life with find a happiness with someone else. Didn't make it any easier if they fell in love with someone else. And it didn't make it any easier to deal with your emotions even though you knew that they were yours to deal with. Hadn't he been dealing with that shit for years now? "You know that ain't true," Logan replied.
Remy snorted, the sound suggesting Logan should know better.
"You tried talkin' ta her?" he asked. The question drew that red on black stare his way. It was obvious by the look Rem was giving him that he hadn't tried at all.
"She been busy with Warren and de baby. I don' wanna intrude," he said. There was a note of hesitance in his voice that said he was afraid of talking to her. That he was afraid of what she'd say to him.
"Morgan loves ya. She's head over heels for ya. An' I know you love her. You gotta talk to her at some point," Logan said. "This shit ain't easy. It'll only get worse if ya let it fester and rot. You need to talk and get things straightened out between you."
"Like you talk to Dare?" Remy asked.
The question brought a scowl to his face. And that made Remy smile. Arrogant prick. Had he not been drinking, Logan would have handled it in a less abrasive manner. Or he would have simply let it go. But, between the alcohol and the fact that he couldn't find Dare long enough to talk to her and that was both worrisome and irritating, he was not feeling that charitable. "You know she ain't talkin' ta me," Logan growled. "Just like she ain't talkin' ta you."
It was mean-spirited and he knew it. He knew he shouldn't have said it. But the way the kid deflated kind of made him feel better. Just a little. Which made him feel guilty as hell. It was bad enough that they were all on edge. That things were falling apart all over the place. He didn't need to go make it worse by letting his temper get the best of him. Logan heaved a sigh and sat back from the bar. "Look. I'm sorry. I don't wanna be a bastard and make things harder."
Remy waved it off with one hand, as if it was no big deal. "We both havin' a time. We gon' say t'ings we don' mean." He shook his head and stared at the glass he'd pushed out of reach. "I try talkin' to Dare. She make de gap between us wider. She don' want me to call her petit. She call me Gambit. She never call me Gambit. She push me in de lake."
Logan turned to stare at him. "You let her push you in the lake?" He found it hard to believe. He'd never known Remy to let someone get the jump on him without a fight.
"She use her telekinesis," he clarified.
Logan frowned. "That don't make no sense. Her telekinesis ain't never been that strong."
"She don't even look at me," Remy told him. A frown settled over his face. Then he shook his head. "It don' make sense. First, she boil de lake, den she push me in de water. She never do dese t'ings before, do she?"
It was Logan's turn to shake his head. The things Remy mentioned weren't things he'd ever known Dare to do. And it was concerning. Maybe he should go talk to Hank. Find out of pregnancy and hormones could make her powers go crazy. He supposed it was possible, but it hadn't happened with her other pregnancies. He'd know because he'd gone through every one of them with her. And wasn't that a damn knife to the heart?
He'd been there for all of Dare's pregnancies. He'd watched her belly swell with life. He'd seen the way she'd glowed and how she'd smiled. He'd seen her get all soft and sappy and sweet. He'd even seen the fear she'd tried to keep hidden. But he'd never seen her powers go haywire. Maybe it was something Sinister had done. Maybe he was grasping at straws because he was as fucking confused and lost as the man sitting beside him seemed to be.
Logan didn't need any enhanced senses or empathy or the ability to read minds to know that Remy was filled with worry and guilt and confusion. And wasn't that the goddamn status quo at the moment? He was pretty sure it was like that all the way around. And it was worse being tied to more than one of the girls. For both him and Rem. Logan looked for something to say, something that might ease Remy's conscience,. He honestly did. But he didn't find anything. He didn't have any words that would make any of this shit easier or better.
Silence cut between the two of them, allowing Logan to sink back into thought. Christ, his life was so fucked up. Heaving a sigh, he reached for his beer and polished it off.
*
"What did you two chuckle fucks do to her?" The question came in a low, growling voice that raised the short hairs on the back of his neck. It was the voice of a predator and the last time he'd heard anything like it was... Creed. Before Dare had roasted him to ash. Logan fought the urge to extend his claws and instead turned to face the presence at his back. He was more than a little surprised to find that Duke was standing behind him. Duke, who wore his anger like a suit and had hands that looked far bigger than necessary balled into fists at his side. As if he wanted to knock them against Logan's skull.
Was it his imagination or did Duke look bigger all over?
"Well? What did you incompetent fuckwits do to her? Answer my fucking question." There was the growl again. It came deep from the depths of Duke's chest and it wasn't anything near human. Logan heard the floor creak behind the bar, smelled the scent of oiled metal and polished wood. He wouldn't be surprised if the bartender cocked the shotgun for effect.
"Do I gotta call the cops?" The bartender's voice was gruff and deep, but that was because he was a bear of a man who towered over Remy by half a foot and looked like he lifted semis for fun. Logan lifted a hand and waved him off without taking his eyes off Duke. There was a moment or two of silence, then the sound of the shotgun being lowered. "If this gets outta hand, I'll shoot first and then call the cops."
As warnings went, it was pretty straight forward. Logan cocked a brow at Duke and crossed his arms over his chest. "You got a problem, boy?"
"I'm only going to ask one more time. It might be best if you answer me," the boy responded. If anything, his voice sounded like it had gotten deeper. And he definitely looked as if he'd put on some bulk. "What did you do to her?"
"How can we do anyt'ing when she don' talk to us?" Remy asked. The alcohol had left his voice and he sounded as sober as when they'd first walked through the door. Logan let his gaze slide toward the other man, not at all surprised to find he was casually playing with a deck of cards.
"And why do you think that is, idiot?" Duke shot at Remy.
"Ain't that the million dollar question," Logan grumbled.
"Jesus Christ on a fucking pogo stick. You don't see shit at all, do you?" Duke ran a hand through his hair and looked around the bar. Not surprisingly, every eye in the place was on the three of them. "Since I don't want to air her personal shit in front of complete strangers, let's go outside."
"Not sure I want to go outside, or anywhere else, with ya, boy," Logan responded. Kid was pissed. Leaving the bar could mean he'd try to throw a punch and some instinct told Logan that was a fight that wouldn't be easily won. He let his gaze skim the room and, when he found what he'd been looking for, he nodded his head in the direction of the empty booth at the back. "How about we go sit there and you can tell us what's got you all worked up."
"Chicken shit," Duke muttered, but he turned and headed toward the empty booth. Logan exchanged a look with Remy. The Cajun had put his cards away, but he looked wary. Just fucking great. Nodding, Logan followed after Duke and left Remy to bring up the rear. The bar was silent around them, every last person there staring after them as they made their way toward the empty booth in back.
Duke stood by the table, waiting for them to join him. And he didn't take a seat until they had, which meant the kid had one side of the booth while he and Remy had the other. Once they were seated, a deck of cards came to rest upon the table top. Long, agile fingers started dealing them into a hand of solitaire. It looked for all the world like Remy was idling the time away. But his gaze was sharp when he lifted it to Duke, and the single card caught between his thumb and forefinger glowed ever so slightly. "Now. You tell us what got you all hot under de collar."
"The beaver asked me to look in on Dare."
It was a blunt statement that pulled what sounded like a snort from Remy's throat. Logan wanted to grumble about that, but he knew it would be useless, so he scowled appropriately at Duke and waited for the kid to say more. Apparently, it wasn't enough for Remy, either. The card he held still glowed and his face was masked in seriousness the likes of which Logan rarely saw him wear. "Dat don' answer de question. What got you hot under de collar?"
"You two chuckle fucks are useless. You know that, right?" Duke asked. Logan and Remy stared back at the kid, waiting for him to explain his statement. His gaze was locked onto them and, in the dimness of the bar, it was plain to see that they glowed. Just a little bit. Logan didn't know what it meant or what the kid's mutation even was, but he felt certain he didn't really want to find out. At least, not when the boy was pissed off like he was now. "Do either one of you know what the fuck is going on? Or do you make a habit of ignoring everything?"
"You better have a damn good reason for all the insults, boy," Logan warned. There was a little growl in his words. It didn't seem to faze the boy one bit. The kid looked him dead in the face and shook his head.
"You're a fucking idiot, dude. Dare is drowning and neither one of you knows it. Do you?" That statement got his attention. Logan frowned because it wasn't exactly what he'd expected to hear. And he could tell Remy was thinking something along the same line. "That's what I thought. Fucking amazing. Stupid and useless."
"Dere no need to throw insults around," Remy said. It was careful and slow. A warning. Either the kid didn't understand that or he didn't care. One lip curled in a damn good snarl.
"There's plenty of need. She's drowning. She has been. She's been carrying all this shit around on her shoulders all by herself for years and neither one of you fuckwits has taken notice." Duke turned to look Logan dead in the eye. "She thinks you're going to get up and leave her at the first opportune moment. And you." With that, he turned his attention to Remy. "She can't believe you want her and love her. She thinks you belong to Morgan. She doesn't think she deserves you. She's pushing you assholes away to protect herself. How can you not see what she's doing? How can you not see that she's up to her eyeballs in her problems and she needs someone to help her."
"She tell ya all this?" Logan asked.
"Of course not. She didn't have to. I can see it on her plain as day." The last was a definite jab. Duke felt that he should have seen it. He was pretty sure the kid was right. But how was he supposed to see something that she'd obviously kept so well hidden.
"How you see it when we don'?" Remy asked. There was a touch of something in his voice that Logan felt had to be guilt.
"Its a hallmark of having lived on the streets," Duke said quietly. "Every one of us who lives on the streets, who doesn't have any kind of support system bears the signs. Like can find like. And that tells me everything I need to know about you morons. Dare doesn't trust anyone to help her. She's been let down time and time again by people she thought would help her. So she just keeps it to herself. Years of trauma take their toll when no one wants to offer a hand of help."
"I lived on de streets," Remy said quietly. Duke looked at him a minute.
"Tell me you don't have shit from that time in your life that you wish someone had been able to help make go away," the kid responded. When Remy said nothing in return, Duke frowned. "You know what its like to be on the streets. You, of all people, should have offered her more than a few words. Maybe she wouldn't feel like she didn't deserve you if you'd given her more. If you'd given her a reason to trust you."
Logan wanted to call the kid on his bullshit. Problem was, he couldn't. Duke was right. They'd known, all those years ago when Morgan had convinced the professor to find Dare and bring her to the institute, that there was trauma. How could there not have been after the shit that had gone down at the warehouse? They just hadn't known how much trauma she'd been carrying. It had been years before Logan had found out about the Finley kid. By then, Creed had taken her captive and he'd only added to it. Logan had no excuse for not doing more. None of them did.
"She thinks she doesn't deserve either one of you," Duke continued. Logan knew what was coming and he fully agreed. "Truth is. You don't deserve her. Neither one of you fuckholes. Find a way to help her. She won't ask. She doesn't know how. So you have to help her. Find a way to do that before you lose her forever."
Duke stood up, obviously ready to leave them to think over what he'd told them. He stared down at them and, somehow, the disappointment he felt for them seemed to be thicker and heavier. "Also. Since we're on the subject of what you do and don't deserve, you don't deserve Purple Team. Not a goddamn one of them. They all put their lives on the line trying to get your sorry asses back. Have either one of you shit stains even thought about checking in with the rest of the team? In case you haven't, let me give you a quick update. Roxxy is beating herself up for not being faster and better so she could protect her friends from the horsemen. It doesn't matter to her that she almost died. She can't get past not being able to help them. Jehnna is wondering if she's a bad person because she loves more than one person. If that makes her a bad mom and all that shit."
Duke shifted his attention to Remy. "Morgan is torn between you and Warren. Its obvious she loves you both and she's afraid of how this will all play out. From where I'm sitting, she's better off with Warren. Even if he still has to work shit out with Jehnna."
The boy's gaze slid back to Logan. "And, just so you know, Haley is falling apart because both of the men she cares about walked away from her and, as far as she's concerned, neither one of them is coming back. Which you'd both know if you, you know, pulled your heads out of your asses and checked in on them once in a while. Sure, you've got shit to work through, too. But maybe think about the fact that this isn't all just about you."
With that parting shot, Duke turned and walked away from the table. Well, shit. Maybe he hadn't had enough beer after all.
~*~
"Fucking hell! That hurts!" Jehnna ground out, her teeth clenched as she rode the contraction. She couldn't remember ever being this tired before. She didn't think she'd ever really been in labor this long before. It had been more than twelve hours since she'd staggered into the medlab and demanded Beast put a stop to the pain right then and there. She'd just gotten settled into bed when Sam had joined them, looking harried and anxious all at once.
He'd been at her side all day, one of his hands clasping hers and encouraging words filling in the silence around them as she'd advanced through her labor. She was so lucky and she didn't deserve that kind of devotion.
"You're very close, Jehnna. The baby's head is crowning. Give me another push," Henry said, his attention focused solely on the task at hand.
"How can you sound so fucking calm about it all when my body is trying to rip itself apart?" she demanded.
"Is this normal?" Sam asked. He was sitting behind her in the bed, having moved there to support her when it had been announced that she was ready to start pushing.
"Yes," Henry told him, still without lifting his attention from the delivery. Jehnna might have said something to dispute Henry's claim, but she felt her muscles contract once more. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she followed her body's demands and pushed. "Very good, Jehnna. I believe you'll only need to push a few more times until your baby comes into the world."
"Did you hear that, Jehnna? You're almost done. You're doing an amazing job," Sam told her, his voice chock full of encouragement.
"Don't ever touch me again! I'm never going to let you touch me again!" Jehnna snarled at him. Sam's hand ran down her arm in a light, soothing gesture. Just as he'd been doing for the past few hours. The touch was sweet and tender, a direct contrast to the spreading pain of contractions that felt as if they were going to snap her muscles in two.
"Again, Jehnna. Another push," Henry instructed. She snarled out a curse and bore down, Sam holding her from behind to offer her his silent strength. She leaned against his chest heavily, her limbs shaking from effort and exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to sleep and pretend this part of the pregnancy didn't have to happen. Hadn't happened. It felt like every inch of her had been slapped with a bat wrapped in barbed wire. Had it been like this the last time? Was this time different? She didn't know. Her brain was mush and every inch of her hurt like hell. She was done with this shit.
And then it didn't matter anymore when there was a loud cry. Henry offered her a smile as he settled a small, squalling babe against her chest. She was all red from crying and her little arms and legs flailed in that odd way newborns flailed. Thin wisps of hair stuck to her head, Ten tiny toes and ten little fingers were perfectly shaped and cute enough that she wanted to kiss each and every one of them.
"Holy shit," Sam breathed out, his voice heavy with awe. "She's so tiny."
Henry chuckled at that. "You will find, Sam, that most babies are small when they are born. And allow me to offer you both congratulations on the birth of your daughter. Have you chosen a name for her yet?"
"Talia," Jehnna whispered softly. She couldn't take her eyes off the tiny miracle she held. One of Sam's hands came up so that he could trail a finger gently along the curve of one chubby little cheek. "We're going to call her Talia."
"Very good," Henry nodded. "Allow me to finish up here. Then I will leave you both alone. I recommend you rest soon, Jehnna. It has been a very long day and you are no doubt worn out from the events of the day."
"Of course," she agreed. Jehnna sagged back against Sam and stared down at the baby she held. Their baby. Their daughter. Tears came then. Tears of relief and of joy and of disbelief. Tears of fear. How long would they have her? When would Sinister come? Why had he let them come home before giving birth? What kind of sick torture was this?
"Hey, sweetheart. There's no need to cry," Sam said, his voice soft and gentle as it caressed her ear. "It'll be okay. We'll find a way." His arms wrapped around her, around them, and hugged them close. How did he know? Why was he being so kind to her when she'd been a bitch to him not that long ago.
"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't mean any of those things I said," she apologized. It was important that he understand that.
"I know, honey. I know. Its okay. It'll all be okay. We'll find a way."
Sam held her close, held them both, and continued to whisper words of love and joy. He whispered promises that it would be okay. He told her how happy she'd made him. How beautiful she was. How beautiful their baby girl was.
It was beautiful. And, staring down at her newborn daughter, the feel of Sam's body and love surrounding her, she could only pray that it really would be okay.
Chapter Twenty Five: Battles
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
Duke knew something was wrong the moment he saw her silhouette. Even from a distance. She was cloaked in shadows, sitting under the gazebo as she was. His mutation gave him excellent eyesight, especially in shadowy or dark places. With the sun directly overhead, Dare was in complete shade. But even at a distance, he could tell that there was something wrong.
Pausing to take a moment, Duke let his thoughts shift back to the conversation he'd had with Logan when he'd returned to the school. He, and the rest of the team, had gone back into the city to deal with some minor problem plaguing the mutant community there. He'd gotten the call from Charisma shortly after he'd left Jehnna with Sam Guthrie. Charisma had told him that the Seer had given her information on some criminal activity that the police wouldn't bother with. What did they care if someone made life hard for mutants?
So he and the others had headed back into the city. Before Dare had returned. Something that had rubbed Duke wrong the entire time they'd been gone. Because some instinct that told him that Dare was going to need him. He couldn't say why he'd felt that way. But the feeling had kept eating at the back of his brain the entire time they'd been gone. It hadn't gotten in his way of being a hero and doing his job. But it had made the time away from the school feel long and painful.
He'd known something was up when he'd returned and had been met by a scowling Logan, who had more or less ordered him to go find Dare and see how she was doing. No explanation as to why. That, added to his extra gruff asshole manner, had put Duke on edge immediately. And so he'd gone off in search of his team leader. He'd expected some depression. Unhappiness. Even anger. He hadn't expected... whatever this was.
Heaving a soft sigh, Duke started the trek across the grass toward the gazebo. It didn't take him long to cover the distance and, as he neared, he could see more details. Dare had her back to him, her shoulders rounded with what he could only assume was defeat. A faint wind teased her hair, left to hang free and longer than he remembered it being. She wore a black t-shirt that hung long on her. It was likely she was wearing shorts, but he couldn't be certain. Not that it mattered. He wasn't here to critique her clothing choices. He was here to see what had put a bug up the angry little beaver's hairy ass.
The aged wood squeaked under his foot when he put his weight on it. There was no outward sign she knew he was there. No movement or shift to tell him she was aware of his presence. But Duke was fairly certain Dare knew she wasn't alone any longer. He was also fairly certain she'd set his ass on fire if she didn't want him near her. So he took the few needed steps required to reach her, then moved around so that he could see her face.
Dare was staring out at the grounds, her face and her eyes empty. She looked nothing like the assured and confident leader she'd been since he'd first met her. She looked lost and scared and very much like a child. She was older than he was but she looked like his little sister. Frightened. Vulnerable. In desperate need of a friend. He had to stomp down on his temper because he didn't want to let it loose and risk spooking her.
Instead, Duke found a smile and eased himself down onto the bench just a foot or so away, body turned so that he faced her. "What are you doing out here by yourself, Dare?" he asked, doing his best to look small and non-threatening. A hard task when he knew she knew how he looked when he used his powers. But he thought he did an admirable job.
Silence stretched between them as she continued to stare. The longer it went, the more Duke worried that she wouldn't speak to him. Which saw his temper spiking another notch. Finally, she turned to look at him and he caught a flicker of something in her gaze before she shuttered it away. "I spent a year locked in a room," she said by way of explanation. There was nothing in her voice to give her feelings away, but Duke could well imagine just how angry and frustrated that had left her.
"Cabin fever. I get it." Duke stared at her, wondering what had happened to erode the confidence he'd always seen in her. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you got back. Charisma called us with a job and it was important enough that we felt we had to go."
"You don't have to explain," she said. Her voice was quiet. He still heard the hurt in it.
"But no one was here for you. Were they?" He remembered Logan telling him after he'd found Jehnna that the other man was heading out. Stupid asshole. It had been made obvious that shit had gone down while Dare and the other seven X-Men had been missing that suggested they'd need someone to lean on when they got back.
"It doesn't matter," she whispered, her eyes slipping away from his face.
"Of course it matters. There should have been someone here for you. I should have been here for you. No doubt things would have been less frightening if you'd had someone to hold your hand," he returned. She shrugged a shoulder, like it hadn't been any big deal. Like that was normal. It reminded him of so many people he knew who had been on the streets at one time or another. And that included himself. They'd all learned, through hard lessons, that the only person they felt they could rely on was themselves. It was obvious Dare still held that one close to the chest.
Duke had to wonder, for a moment or two, how someone had missed that Dare needed so much more than she was getting. Oh, it was obvious the people she surrounded herself with loved her. And maybe they thought that was enough. But Duke had been there. He'd been that kid with weird powers living on the streets and he'd been angry and he'd wanted to rail at the world. He'd also gotten past that because he'd had people who had seen what he was going through and they'd helped him. It was why he was so goddamn eager to do the shit that Dare and her friends did. He wanted to help people.
Why had no one helped Dare? Didn't they see that she was drowning?
Suddenly, that foot of distance between them felt like too much and Duke scooted closer. He reached out and settled his hand on her shoulder. The move saw her eyes swinging back toward him. He saw, for just a fleeting moment, the flash of something faint and ghostly in her gaze. Hope. Then it was gone, dashed upon the rocks of her years of struggle and it made his rage burn hotter and harder. "Dare. You know you can ask for help, right? You know you don't have to deal with everything on your own. Asking for help, needing help, does not make you weak. It makes you human."
She blinked at him, almost as if she didn't understand what it was he was telling her. Then turned away from him. It didn't stop him from seeing the tears filling her eyes. The painful loneliness that crowded into the sorrow. How the fuck had Logan not seen this? How had the man who professed to love her completely missed that she was sinking lower and lower into a pit from which she could not pull herself? How the fuck was the mother fucker still alive?
Throwing caution to the wind, Duke dragged Dare into his lap and hugged her close. She didn't fight. She just kind of... melted into his arms. He pretended not to notice the tears that dampened his shirt. "You can tell me anything, Dare. You can ask me for any help you need. I'll do whatever I can for you. I swear it."
His words were a whispered promise in her ear that saw her crying harder. He meant it, too. Dare was more than just the leader he followed. She was a member of his family. She was one of the first people he'd ever met who had put her faith in him and treated him with respect. Had treated him like he was worth something. That mission she'd taken him and the others on, the one to rescue Haley, had been the first time he'd felt like he was more than just some freak mutant. She'd given him her respect and she'd treated him like an equal. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her.
"Tell me why you're sitting out here by yourself? Tell me why you look like your world ended," he prodded gently.
"Its my problem to deal with," she told him. Her voice was thick and watery. He could still hear the fear in it. The reluctance.
"You can't shoulder everything by yourself, Dare," he informed her. "Your back is breaking from all of the shit you carry. I'd be a really terrible friend if I didn't offer to help share the load."
She was silent for a few moments and, briefly, he hoped that meant she was going to share her burdens. But it became obvious that she was shutting herself away again when she extricated herself from his hold and moved to sit on the gazebo bench once again. Her gaze moved back to the trees around them and it remained there. Duke wanted to push, but he understood that doing so would make things worse. Dare had to realize, on her own, that his offer was genuine and he would do whatever he could to help her.
"Did you see any of the others?" she asked quietly. The question cut through the silence between them. Duke took a breath and let it go on a soft sigh.
"I checked in on Morgan. She looks positively love struck. By both her daughter and Warren. She seemed happy to see me. We talked a few minutes. I found out from her that Jehnna is in labor and Sam went to join her in the infirmary," he replied. He saw no reaction to that. "It sounded to me like Sam was excited that his baby was going to be born soon. Morgan and Warren both said he tore out of their rooms like he had the devil on his heels."
She made a noise at the back of her throat but said nothing to that. He didn't miss the way her hands fisted in her lap. It was a tell, but he didn't know what that tell was saying.
"Haley looks rough," he said. He'd been kind of surprised to see Purple Team's leader so lost.
"Johnny and Scott both left her," she replied. It was confirmation of something Duke had kind of suspected.
"She acted like she was okay. And she told me she's worried about you. She doesn't see you that often and she can't tell if you're eating or sleeping or anything."
"Haley diverts when things go badly." It was an explanation about Haley's behavior. Duke had kind of figured it out after talking to Haley, but having Dare confirm it was good. Because he felt like he was going to have to do the same for Haley as he was trying to do for Dare.
"She said you're avoiding Logan and Remy."
She lifted a shoulder again.
"Why are you avoiding them? I thought you loved them."
She continued to stare out at the trees, and Duke figured that was the end of their conversation. He hadn't gotten a lot from her. Not that he'd expected to. He'd figured out, over the passing months since he'd met her, that she kept a lot to herself. But he had severely misjudged just how much she kept bottled up inside. And he was starting to understand that it was because she'd never had anyone in her life she felt she could trust with those deeper parts of herself. Again, he wondered how Logan hadn't seen this and he wondered why she felt she couldn't trust him enough with her secrets.
He was deep in his thoughts when her voice drew him back to the here and now. "I don't want Logan to see how dirty I am," she whispered.
Duke chewed on that statement for a moment. And then a moment longer. Because the thoughts it brought screaming to life were not good ones. He'd spent enough time on the streets that he could read between the lines well enough so he understood what it was she'd said without actually saying it. And the idea that someone would hurt her, or anyone, like that was more than enough to send his blood pressure rocketing into space.
"I'm sure he doesn't think that," Duke responded. Though, to be honest, he didn't know for certain that was how Logan felt. Dare knew him better than Duke did. Tucking that idea away for the moment, he asked her another question. "What about Remy? Why don't you want to see him?"
Dare frowned at his question. As if she didn't understand it. Or maybe she was trying to find the right way to explain it. Finally, she turned a look toward him that was all wide, troubled grey eyes and sadness. "Because he belongs to Morgan. The sooner he realizes that's how its supposed to be, the better off we'll both be."
Duke stared. He had no words. She honestly thought that was how it was supposed to be. It was, in some ways, the rationalization of a child. But he knew there was more to it than just that. There was something Dare wasn't telling him. Something that would make it all make sense. Something that he knew she wasn't going to tell him, no matter how much he asked.
He was going to have to go to the source for answers.
So Duke lapsed into silence and simply sat there, occupying the same place as Dare. He hoped it was enough to prove to her that he cared. But given how twisted it seemed her thinking was, he just didn't know.
~*~
A loud, mournful sigh cut into the sounds of the bar around him, followed by the solid thump of glass hitting the surface of the bar. It drew Logan's attention to the man sitting on his right. "I don' believe she do dis to me."
Remy sat more or less slumped on his barstool, one arm laid across the front of the bar in order to steady himself. The fingers of his free hand ran absently around the rim of his tumbler over and over. He was staring at the far wall blindly, the look on his face suggesting he was no happier with things than Logan was. Not that he blamed the Cajun. There was a lot of shit to be unhappy with.
Logan stared at the beer before him, the bottle still frosty from the cooler out of which it had come. This was his fourth so far and he was almost done with it. The two of them had only been there for an hour. He needed to slow down and pace himself. But his gut was all twisted up with worry. So much shit was fucked up. He didn't have any idea how to fix it. Hell. He didn't have any idea how to fix his personal shit. It was bad enough that he couldn't get close to Dare, but things had no doubt changed where Morgan was concerned and he didn't know how he was going to approach that.
He thought he'd found a way to check in on Dare without spooking her. He and Remy had been leaving the school to hit the nearest bar and drink until they forgot about their problems for a while. It had been then, when they'd been on their way to the garage, that he'd met up with Duke. It had struck him, the moment he'd seen the boy, that this might be a sign and so, much as it rubbed him the wrong way to do so, he'd put his trust in Duke. He'd told the kid, voice gruff as he'd done so, to go check on Dare for him. He'd figured his girl would open up to the boy in a way she wouldn't for anyone else. They were tight and he got the impression that she trusted Duke a good deal.
Maybe the kid could get her to talk. He sure as hell wasn't having any luck. Hell, most of the time, he couldn't even find her. He knew the same could be said for his drinking companion.
'Heartless woman," Remy muttered, tapping the glass against the bar to order another. Logan had lost count just how many bourbons Rem had sucked down already, but it had to have been a lot because he sure as hell looked like he was slowly listing to the side. The bartender gave Remy the hairy eyeball, but he filled the tumbler again. This time, Remy sipped at it. "Why she gon' treat me dis way?"
It took a moment to parse what Remy said because the bourbon had deepened his accent and it was damn near impossible to tell what he was saying. Fuck. The boy was sauced and he'd driven. That meant getting him home was going to be a nightmare. "I think you've had enough, Rem," he said, one hand reaching for the boy's glass. Despite all of the alcohol he'd consumed, he was surprisingly quick. The tumbler was soon out of Logan's reach. He glared at the other man, ready to read him the riot act.
"Why you gon' take dis poor Cajun's drink? Don' you see I'm heartbroken?" Remy asked. Logan snorted at that. Remy shot him a dirty look that very politely told him to get fucked. That certainly wasn't happening any time soon. "My girls... " Remy's words trailed off as a pained expression crossed his face. It lingered for a moment and Logan could see a flurry of thought spin though his companion's gaze. Then he sighed and shook his head, one long-fingered hand pushing his drink away from him. "Morgan don' need me."
Well, that certainly wasn't what Logan had been expecting. But he supposed it made sense. Remy and Morgan had been a couple for a long time. And it wasn't like a person could turn off their feelings for someone else just because circumstances made loving them difficult. Thinking on it, though, Logan realized he was more or less in the same boat.
He was pretty sure that Remy was smart enough to know that his shit was his to deal with and he wasn't going to make it anyone else's problem. Logan was the same. That didn't make it any easier to watch someone you'd spent a good portion of your life with find a happiness with someone else. Didn't make it any easier if they fell in love with someone else. And it didn't make it any easier to deal with your emotions even though you knew that they were yours to deal with. Hadn't he been dealing with that shit for years now? "You know that ain't true," Logan replied.
Remy snorted, the sound suggesting Logan should know better.
"You tried talkin' ta her?" he asked. The question drew that red on black stare his way. It was obvious by the look Rem was giving him that he hadn't tried at all.
"She been busy with Warren and de baby. I don' wanna intrude," he said. There was a note of hesitance in his voice that said he was afraid of talking to her. That he was afraid of what she'd say to him.
"Morgan loves ya. She's head over heels for ya. An' I know you love her. You gotta talk to her at some point," Logan said. "This shit ain't easy. It'll only get worse if ya let it fester and rot. You need to talk and get things straightened out between you."
"Like you talk to Dare?" Remy asked.
The question brought a scowl to his face. And that made Remy smile. Arrogant prick. Had he not been drinking, Logan would have handled it in a less abrasive manner. Or he would have simply let it go. But, between the alcohol and the fact that he couldn't find Dare long enough to talk to her and that was both worrisome and irritating, he was not feeling that charitable. "You know she ain't talkin' ta me," Logan growled. "Just like she ain't talkin' ta you."
It was mean-spirited and he knew it. He knew he shouldn't have said it. But the way the kid deflated kind of made him feel better. Just a little. Which made him feel guilty as hell. It was bad enough that they were all on edge. That things were falling apart all over the place. He didn't need to go make it worse by letting his temper get the best of him. Logan heaved a sigh and sat back from the bar. "Look. I'm sorry. I don't wanna be a bastard and make things harder."
Remy waved it off with one hand, as if it was no big deal. "We both havin' a time. We gon' say t'ings we don' mean." He shook his head and stared at the glass he'd pushed out of reach. "I try talkin' to Dare. She make de gap between us wider. She don' want me to call her petit. She call me Gambit. She never call me Gambit. She push me in de lake."
Logan turned to stare at him. "You let her push you in the lake?" He found it hard to believe. He'd never known Remy to let someone get the jump on him without a fight.
"She use her telekinesis," he clarified.
Logan frowned. "That don't make no sense. Her telekinesis ain't never been that strong."
"She don't even look at me," Remy told him. A frown settled over his face. Then he shook his head. "It don' make sense. First, she boil de lake, den she push me in de water. She never do dese t'ings before, do she?"
It was Logan's turn to shake his head. The things Remy mentioned weren't things he'd ever known Dare to do. And it was concerning. Maybe he should go talk to Hank. Find out of pregnancy and hormones could make her powers go crazy. He supposed it was possible, but it hadn't happened with her other pregnancies. He'd know because he'd gone through every one of them with her. And wasn't that a damn knife to the heart?
He'd been there for all of Dare's pregnancies. He'd watched her belly swell with life. He'd seen the way she'd glowed and how she'd smiled. He'd seen her get all soft and sappy and sweet. He'd even seen the fear she'd tried to keep hidden. But he'd never seen her powers go haywire. Maybe it was something Sinister had done. Maybe he was grasping at straws because he was as fucking confused and lost as the man sitting beside him seemed to be.
Logan didn't need any enhanced senses or empathy or the ability to read minds to know that Remy was filled with worry and guilt and confusion. And wasn't that the goddamn status quo at the moment? He was pretty sure it was like that all the way around. And it was worse being tied to more than one of the girls. For both him and Rem. Logan looked for something to say, something that might ease Remy's conscience,. He honestly did. But he didn't find anything. He didn't have any words that would make any of this shit easier or better.
Silence cut between the two of them, allowing Logan to sink back into thought. Christ, his life was so fucked up. Heaving a sigh, he reached for his beer and polished it off.
*
"What did you two chuckle fucks do to her?" The question came in a low, growling voice that raised the short hairs on the back of his neck. It was the voice of a predator and the last time he'd heard anything like it was... Creed. Before Dare had roasted him to ash. Logan fought the urge to extend his claws and instead turned to face the presence at his back. He was more than a little surprised to find that Duke was standing behind him. Duke, who wore his anger like a suit and had hands that looked far bigger than necessary balled into fists at his side. As if he wanted to knock them against Logan's skull.
Was it his imagination or did Duke look bigger all over?
"Well? What did you incompetent fuckwits do to her? Answer my fucking question." There was the growl again. It came deep from the depths of Duke's chest and it wasn't anything near human. Logan heard the floor creak behind the bar, smelled the scent of oiled metal and polished wood. He wouldn't be surprised if the bartender cocked the shotgun for effect.
"Do I gotta call the cops?" The bartender's voice was gruff and deep, but that was because he was a bear of a man who towered over Remy by half a foot and looked like he lifted semis for fun. Logan lifted a hand and waved him off without taking his eyes off Duke. There was a moment or two of silence, then the sound of the shotgun being lowered. "If this gets outta hand, I'll shoot first and then call the cops."
As warnings went, it was pretty straight forward. Logan cocked a brow at Duke and crossed his arms over his chest. "You got a problem, boy?"
"I'm only going to ask one more time. It might be best if you answer me," the boy responded. If anything, his voice sounded like it had gotten deeper. And he definitely looked as if he'd put on some bulk. "What did you do to her?"
"How can we do anyt'ing when she don' talk to us?" Remy asked. The alcohol had left his voice and he sounded as sober as when they'd first walked through the door. Logan let his gaze slide toward the other man, not at all surprised to find he was casually playing with a deck of cards.
"And why do you think that is, idiot?" Duke shot at Remy.
"Ain't that the million dollar question," Logan grumbled.
"Jesus Christ on a fucking pogo stick. You don't see shit at all, do you?" Duke ran a hand through his hair and looked around the bar. Not surprisingly, every eye in the place was on the three of them. "Since I don't want to air her personal shit in front of complete strangers, let's go outside."
"Not sure I want to go outside, or anywhere else, with ya, boy," Logan responded. Kid was pissed. Leaving the bar could mean he'd try to throw a punch and some instinct told Logan that was a fight that wouldn't be easily won. He let his gaze skim the room and, when he found what he'd been looking for, he nodded his head in the direction of the empty booth at the back. "How about we go sit there and you can tell us what's got you all worked up."
"Chicken shit," Duke muttered, but he turned and headed toward the empty booth. Logan exchanged a look with Remy. The Cajun had put his cards away, but he looked wary. Just fucking great. Nodding, Logan followed after Duke and left Remy to bring up the rear. The bar was silent around them, every last person there staring after them as they made their way toward the empty booth in back.
Duke stood by the table, waiting for them to join him. And he didn't take a seat until they had, which meant the kid had one side of the booth while he and Remy had the other. Once they were seated, a deck of cards came to rest upon the table top. Long, agile fingers started dealing them into a hand of solitaire. It looked for all the world like Remy was idling the time away. But his gaze was sharp when he lifted it to Duke, and the single card caught between his thumb and forefinger glowed ever so slightly. "Now. You tell us what got you all hot under de collar."
"The beaver asked me to look in on Dare."
It was a blunt statement that pulled what sounded like a snort from Remy's throat. Logan wanted to grumble about that, but he knew it would be useless, so he scowled appropriately at Duke and waited for the kid to say more. Apparently, it wasn't enough for Remy, either. The card he held still glowed and his face was masked in seriousness the likes of which Logan rarely saw him wear. "Dat don' answer de question. What got you hot under de collar?"
"You two chuckle fucks are useless. You know that, right?" Duke asked. Logan and Remy stared back at the kid, waiting for him to explain his statement. His gaze was locked onto them and, in the dimness of the bar, it was plain to see that they glowed. Just a little bit. Logan didn't know what it meant or what the kid's mutation even was, but he felt certain he didn't really want to find out. At least, not when the boy was pissed off like he was now. "Do either one of you know what the fuck is going on? Or do you make a habit of ignoring everything?"
"You better have a damn good reason for all the insults, boy," Logan warned. There was a little growl in his words. It didn't seem to faze the boy one bit. The kid looked him dead in the face and shook his head.
"You're a fucking idiot, dude. Dare is drowning and neither one of you knows it. Do you?" That statement got his attention. Logan frowned because it wasn't exactly what he'd expected to hear. And he could tell Remy was thinking something along the same line. "That's what I thought. Fucking amazing. Stupid and useless."
"Dere no need to throw insults around," Remy said. It was careful and slow. A warning. Either the kid didn't understand that or he didn't care. One lip curled in a damn good snarl.
"There's plenty of need. She's drowning. She has been. She's been carrying all this shit around on her shoulders all by herself for years and neither one of you fuckwits has taken notice." Duke turned to look Logan dead in the eye. "She thinks you're going to get up and leave her at the first opportune moment. And you." With that, he turned his attention to Remy. "She can't believe you want her and love her. She thinks you belong to Morgan. She doesn't think she deserves you. She's pushing you assholes away to protect herself. How can you not see what she's doing? How can you not see that she's up to her eyeballs in her problems and she needs someone to help her."
"She tell ya all this?" Logan asked.
"Of course not. She didn't have to. I can see it on her plain as day." The last was a definite jab. Duke felt that he should have seen it. He was pretty sure the kid was right. But how was he supposed to see something that she'd obviously kept so well hidden.
"How you see it when we don'?" Remy asked. There was a touch of something in his voice that Logan felt had to be guilt.
"Its a hallmark of having lived on the streets," Duke said quietly. "Every one of us who lives on the streets, who doesn't have any kind of support system bears the signs. Like can find like. And that tells me everything I need to know about you morons. Dare doesn't trust anyone to help her. She's been let down time and time again by people she thought would help her. So she just keeps it to herself. Years of trauma take their toll when no one wants to offer a hand of help."
"I lived on de streets," Remy said quietly. Duke looked at him a minute.
"Tell me you don't have shit from that time in your life that you wish someone had been able to help make go away," the kid responded. When Remy said nothing in return, Duke frowned. "You know what its like to be on the streets. You, of all people, should have offered her more than a few words. Maybe she wouldn't feel like she didn't deserve you if you'd given her more. If you'd given her a reason to trust you."
Logan wanted to call the kid on his bullshit. Problem was, he couldn't. Duke was right. They'd known, all those years ago when Morgan had convinced the professor to find Dare and bring her to the institute, that there was trauma. How could there not have been after the shit that had gone down at the warehouse? They just hadn't known how much trauma she'd been carrying. It had been years before Logan had found out about the Finley kid. By then, Creed had taken her captive and he'd only added to it. Logan had no excuse for not doing more. None of them did.
"She thinks she doesn't deserve either one of you," Duke continued. Logan knew what was coming and he fully agreed. "Truth is. You don't deserve her. Neither one of you fuckholes. Find a way to help her. She won't ask. She doesn't know how. So you have to help her. Find a way to do that before you lose her forever."
Duke stood up, obviously ready to leave them to think over what he'd told them. He stared down at them and, somehow, the disappointment he felt for them seemed to be thicker and heavier. "Also. Since we're on the subject of what you do and don't deserve, you don't deserve Purple Team. Not a goddamn one of them. They all put their lives on the line trying to get your sorry asses back. Have either one of you shit stains even thought about checking in with the rest of the team? In case you haven't, let me give you a quick update. Roxxy is beating herself up for not being faster and better so she could protect her friends from the horsemen. It doesn't matter to her that she almost died. She can't get past not being able to help them. Jehnna is wondering if she's a bad person because she loves more than one person. If that makes her a bad mom and all that shit."
Duke shifted his attention to Remy. "Morgan is torn between you and Warren. Its obvious she loves you both and she's afraid of how this will all play out. From where I'm sitting, she's better off with Warren. Even if he still has to work shit out with Jehnna."
The boy's gaze slid back to Logan. "And, just so you know, Haley is falling apart because both of the men she cares about walked away from her and, as far as she's concerned, neither one of them is coming back. Which you'd both know if you, you know, pulled your heads out of your asses and checked in on them once in a while. Sure, you've got shit to work through, too. But maybe think about the fact that this isn't all just about you."
With that parting shot, Duke turned and walked away from the table. Well, shit. Maybe he hadn't had enough beer after all.
~*~
"Fucking hell! That hurts!" Jehnna ground out, her teeth clenched as she rode the contraction. She couldn't remember ever being this tired before. She didn't think she'd ever really been in labor this long before. It had been more than twelve hours since she'd staggered into the medlab and demanded Beast put a stop to the pain right then and there. She'd just gotten settled into bed when Sam had joined them, looking harried and anxious all at once.
He'd been at her side all day, one of his hands clasping hers and encouraging words filling in the silence around them as she'd advanced through her labor. She was so lucky and she didn't deserve that kind of devotion.
"You're very close, Jehnna. The baby's head is crowning. Give me another push," Henry said, his attention focused solely on the task at hand.
"How can you sound so fucking calm about it all when my body is trying to rip itself apart?" she demanded.
"Is this normal?" Sam asked. He was sitting behind her in the bed, having moved there to support her when it had been announced that she was ready to start pushing.
"Yes," Henry told him, still without lifting his attention from the delivery. Jehnna might have said something to dispute Henry's claim, but she felt her muscles contract once more. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she followed her body's demands and pushed. "Very good, Jehnna. I believe you'll only need to push a few more times until your baby comes into the world."
"Did you hear that, Jehnna? You're almost done. You're doing an amazing job," Sam told her, his voice chock full of encouragement.
"Don't ever touch me again! I'm never going to let you touch me again!" Jehnna snarled at him. Sam's hand ran down her arm in a light, soothing gesture. Just as he'd been doing for the past few hours. The touch was sweet and tender, a direct contrast to the spreading pain of contractions that felt as if they were going to snap her muscles in two.
"Again, Jehnna. Another push," Henry instructed. She snarled out a curse and bore down, Sam holding her from behind to offer her his silent strength. She leaned against his chest heavily, her limbs shaking from effort and exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to sleep and pretend this part of the pregnancy didn't have to happen. Hadn't happened. It felt like every inch of her had been slapped with a bat wrapped in barbed wire. Had it been like this the last time? Was this time different? She didn't know. Her brain was mush and every inch of her hurt like hell. She was done with this shit.
And then it didn't matter anymore when there was a loud cry. Henry offered her a smile as he settled a small, squalling babe against her chest. She was all red from crying and her little arms and legs flailed in that odd way newborns flailed. Thin wisps of hair stuck to her head, Ten tiny toes and ten little fingers were perfectly shaped and cute enough that she wanted to kiss each and every one of them.
"Holy shit," Sam breathed out, his voice heavy with awe. "She's so tiny."
Henry chuckled at that. "You will find, Sam, that most babies are small when they are born. And allow me to offer you both congratulations on the birth of your daughter. Have you chosen a name for her yet?"
"Talia," Jehnna whispered softly. She couldn't take her eyes off the tiny miracle she held. One of Sam's hands came up so that he could trail a finger gently along the curve of one chubby little cheek. "We're going to call her Talia."
"Very good," Henry nodded. "Allow me to finish up here. Then I will leave you both alone. I recommend you rest soon, Jehnna. It has been a very long day and you are no doubt worn out from the events of the day."
"Of course," she agreed. Jehnna sagged back against Sam and stared down at the baby she held. Their baby. Their daughter. Tears came then. Tears of relief and of joy and of disbelief. Tears of fear. How long would they have her? When would Sinister come? Why had he let them come home before giving birth? What kind of sick torture was this?
"Hey, sweetheart. There's no need to cry," Sam said, his voice soft and gentle as it caressed her ear. "It'll be okay. We'll find a way." His arms wrapped around her, around them, and hugged them close. How did he know? Why was he being so kind to her when she'd been a bitch to him not that long ago.
"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't mean any of those things I said," she apologized. It was important that he understand that.
"I know, honey. I know. Its okay. It'll all be okay. We'll find a way."
Sam held her close, held them both, and continued to whisper words of love and joy. He whispered promises that it would be okay. He told her how happy she'd made him. How beautiful she was. How beautiful their baby girl was.
It was beautiful. And, staring down at her newborn daughter, the feel of Sam's body and love surrounding her, she could only pray that it really would be okay.
