Among the Strong
Dec. 26th, 2025 02:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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marysuevirusTitle: Among the Strong
Chapter Sixty: Discovered
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 out the window, watching as water droplets raced one another down the clear glass toward the wooden frame at the bottom. The sky beyond the glass was overcast and heavy with clouds that seemed to have been following them for the past few days. Rain poured in buckets, sending pedestrians scurrying along the sidewalks in both directions. Some, he noted, stepped inside store fronts to escape the deluge. Umbrellas of all colors bobbed in time with people’s steps, offering a dome of shelter for those who carried them. They’d been in Scotland for two days and it had been dreary and raining the entire time.
“You might want to think about shaving that mess off before we find Haley,” his companion said as he settled into the seat on his left. The comment saw him lifting his hand to scratch at the bristly hair on his chin.
“We might not find her,” he commented absently, gaze locked on the world passing them by on the other side of the plate glass windows.
“Don’t be such a pessimistic asshole,” the other man snapped, irritation and the first touches of the day’s anger coloring his words. It had been like this for nearly a week. The longer their search went on, the easier it was to upset his search partner. Not that he was doing much better. He just had years worth of shoving his anger down to keep him from exploding at any little provocation.
“You forget, Johnny. I am a pessimistic asshole. Ask anyone of the X-Men and they’ll tell you that I live to be a dick and make their lives hell.” He didn’t care if Storm caught the traces of bitterness in his voice. No matter what he’d told Haley, the idea that her team thought he’d intentionally tried to sabotage them still rubbed him the wrong way. And, since his patience was wearing ever thinner, it was easier to let that shit come out.
“Thinking like that will come true if you hold to it long enough,” Johnny replied, side-stepping the whole asshole issue. The other man settled a paper cup before him and Scott couldn’t help but catch the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that managed to waft out of the tiny drinking hole in the lid. “Its your favorite,” Johnny said after watching Scott stare at the cup for a while.
“Thank you,” Scott replied, lifting the cup to sip tentatively at the hot brew. How fucking bizarre was it that Storm knew how he liked his coffee and what his favorite roast was? It wasn’t that long ago that Johnny had been trying to take shots at Scott for daring to touch Haley. Now they were… some kind of friends. That relationship was still new, founded on their shared love for Haley. There had been discussions during their time searching for her that were, frankly, still hard to believe. Neither of them intended to give Haley up. They both loved her. Which left them with few options going forward. The most logical option was to suggest Haley split her time between them. But Scott knew her well enough to know she’d find that option akin to torture.
If he’d learned nothing else about Haley during their time in Sinister’s care, he had learned that she fully committed to everything. Her team. Her friendships. Her family. Her love. And she loved both of them. That fact had been obvious, even when things had been falling apart around them. In fact, her being in love with both of them was why things had fallen apart around them, Because Scott hadn’t wanted to step on Johnny’s toes. And he hadn’t wanted to hurt Jean. And Johnny hadn’t been able to reconcile everything that had happened with how he felt for his wife. Their inaction had led to Haley running from them. Because she thought it meant that they were both done with her.
Scott heaved a sigh and raked his hand through his hair. Proving to her that such a thing wasn’t true was going to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be much of a picnic for Johnny, either. Because they’d both decided, during their discussions, that the only option open to them was to share her. And neither one of them was certain just how Haley would react to that option.
“Where the fuck are those two, anyway?’ Johnny blurted out, his voice still touched by his temper. A glance his way showed Scott that Johnny had run his hand through his hair enough to leave it disheveled. The other man’s eyes were on the door, as if staring at it with such intent would see it opening to allow the reason they were sitting in this coffee shop to enter.
“I have no idea. But Logan has never really had respect for being on time and keeping appointments,” Scott replied, his gaze returning to the street beyond the window. “And Remy moves through life with all the care of a hound dog warming its belly under the sun.”
His description earned him a huff of laughter from his companion. Johnny fell silent, his focus given over to his phone. Scott let his gaze settle on the people passing the coffee shop by and the rain that fell. It was a dull, dreary day. And Scott had no fucking clue what the hell he was doing here. Beyond wasting time. He should be out looking for Haley. Not waiting for Logan and Remy to arrive and tell them whatever this meeting was supposed to be about.
During that first week, Scott and Johnny had been covering the west coast of the US and working their way toward the central part of the country where they were supposed to meet up with Remy and Logan. That had been the plan when this whole chase had started. And he knew that Logan and Remy had started their search in New York City because Dare was familiar with the homeless community there. Naturally they’d found nothing because Scott had figured out early on that Dare was much smarter than most people gave her credit for. If she’d gone into hiding in the city, the community there would have kept her hiding place secret. Because she was one of their own and she’d have had no problems threatening anyone with harm if they g.
The two of them had continued their search by traveling down the east coast, checking out all the major cities along the way. That, too, had been a huge bust. Then the two of them had just suddenly gone to New Orleans for some reason or another. It was an odd move to Scott, because was relatively certain Dare wouldn’t step foot in the Big Easy. Remy knew it like the back of his hand and Scott had no problem imagining that the Cajun knew someone who would be willing to tell him if they’d seen someone matching Dare’s description, carrying a baby with her, wandering around on Remy’s home turf.
They’d made arrangements to keep in contact by phone. Which had been okay for a day or two. But as time had worn on, the phone calls he’d gotten from Logan had been filled with a whole lot of nothing. Well, there had been a whole lot of Logan’s temper. It hadn’t taken him long to lose the thing and his rising anger had come out in his conversations with Scott. Given Scott’s own fading control on his temper, he’d matched anger to anger. That had left the two of them to constantly snap and throw insults at one another. Logan had been prone to snarling and threatening while Scott had stuck with the underhanded insults that always worked the other man up into a sputtering rage. Fun times.
Scott wanted to punch the hairy little fucker in the face with one of his strongest optic blasts.
The whole search arrangement they’d made before setting off had changed after Remy’s trip to New Orleans. Logan had informed Scott on one of their calls that he and Remy were heading to Europe and he’d suggested Scott and Johnny do the same. Scott wasn’t sure what had prompted Remy to head to New Orleans and he didn’t know what the man had done there. But there’d been a kind of hope unfurling in Logan’s voice that had suggested that maybe Remy had learned something important when he’d done… whatever it was he’d done. So, after much discussion and disbelief and annoyance, Johnny and Scott had made the decision to head to Europe. Which, for the past week, had led to a metric fuckton of exactly two things. Jack and Shit.
The only good news Scott had gotten during the entire madness of their willy nilly search bad come from Warren. His friend had been keeping him up to date with how things had been progressing with Jehnna during her sessions with Jean. And things sounded as if they were going surprisingly well. He’d said, during their last call, that Jehnna was almost entirely back to her normal self. Warren had helped her find a therapist who was willing to help her deal with the remaining parts of her trauma. Jehnna had apparently been horrified to learn she’d called her friends whores and had burst into tears at the idea she was the reason that Haley and Dare had fled. Scott knew that Jehnna had started seeing her therapist and, on top of it, she still met with Jean. According to Warren, Jean’s attitude had undergone a huge change and she’d told him that she wanted to make amends with both Scott and Haley for her behavior.
Scott was willing, but he felt like it was a sure bet such a thing would go over like shit in a punch bowl with Haley.
Warren had also mentioned, during one of their conversations, that Roxxy and Hank had kind of been holing themselves up in the labs whenever they had the chance and were researching some weird thing Hank had found in the girls’ blood tests. He hadn’t had anymore information than that and the lack of such information had left Scott with an odd feeling in his chest. Instinct told him it was something to do with Sinister and he was absolutely not a fan of whatever that might mean for Haley and the rest of the girls.
The jingling of the bell over the door brought Scott out of his thoughts. The door stood open wide, diluted light flooding in past the two figures that stepped in off the sidewalk. Even back lit as they were, there was no mistaking the tall, lanky frame belonging to Remy and the short, stocky figure that was Logan. The two of them moved further into the room, Remy leading the way, and the door closed behind them. Scott watched as they closed the distance between the door and the table he and Johnny occupied. Halfway there, Remy broke off and headed toward the counter to put in an order. That left Logan to finish the trek by himself. And the way he moved spoke more eloquently toward his growing fear and anger than the decidedly very unhappy look on his face.
Much like Johnny and Scott, Logan looked like seventy miles of bad road. His hair was wilder than usual, the grimace on his face so pronounced that even the lines that grooved his mouth had developed lines. His eyes carried a look that was almost entirely feral and the man’s hands were clenched into fists at his side. It looked as if he was fighting the urge to extend his claws. No doubt Dare packing up and running on him had been playing havoc with his ability to control himself. Which would have only gotten worse the longer she’d been gone. The difference in the man’s personality before he’d started dating her and after was like night and day. Scott wondered if Dare knew just how much of a calming influence she’d been on the man.
“Its about fucking time,” Johnny said after Logan had taken a seat. The other man chose not to reply, but that might have had something to do with the way he had his jaw clenched tight.
“Don’t provoke him, Johnny,” Scott said, only half meaning it. If he was being honest, Scott was just as eager for a fight as Logan appeared to be. Maybe planted the man’s ass deep in the dirt might help alleviate some of his anxiety and anger.
“Fuck that. He and the other idiot have kept us waiting for far too long,” Johnny snapped.
“Say it one more time,” Logan growled. Scott heard the sound of metal grating against metal from under the table. He turned to look at the man.
“Sheathe those claws or I’ll put you through the window,” Scott warned. For a moment, it looked as if Logan wanted to argue with him. But that passed soon enough and Scott was rewarded with the same grating noise as Logan put his claws away. “I get it. We’re all on edge. But starting a fight in public isn’t going to help our cause. So try and keep your egos and anger in check.”
“Big talk from the man who just threatened ta put me through the window,” Logan shot back.
“Big talk from the leader of the X-Men. I can toss your ass off the team just as quick as I can put it through a window,” Scott replied.
“Relax, mes amis,” Remy’s voice slid over them as he joined them at the table. He didn’t look to be doing much better than the rest of them. His eyes were rimmed red, as if he hadn’t been doing much sleeping lately, and the stubble on his chin had turned into a full blown beard. But there was a look of determination in his eyes that gave Scott a moment of hope. Maybe this meeting would be helpful instead of turning into a giant pissing match.
Remy settled into his seat, pushing a paper cup toward Logan as he did so. Idly, as if he had all the time in the world, the man sipped at his coffee. Scott swore he could hear Johnny bristling with anger at being made to wait longer. Logan glared violently at them but said nothing. And Scott did his best to look calm. To not let that faint kernel of hope grow so that the disappointment wouldn’t be as strong or as sharp.
“Easy for you to say,” Johnny continued, his temper plain to hear in his voice. “You’re not the one who has been sitting her for the better part of the last half hour, waiting for your sorry ass to get there. What’s the matter, LeBeau? Too caught up with charming the Scots women to be concerned about Dare?”
Remy had started Johnny’s rant with a smile. The end of it saw a frown taking its place. A faint pink glow came to life on the lid of Johnny’s coffee cup. “You wanna see Haley, you keep you stupidity to youself,” Remy warned quietly. The pink glow faded soon enough and Remy busied himself by sipping at his own coffee.
“That’s enough,” Scott ordered. His gaze slid from one man to the next, pinning them each with a stare that promised a world of hurt. He knew they couldn’t see it, but he was fairly certain they could well imagine it. He’d used that look with at least two of them repeatedly over the years. Then Scott turned his attention fully to Remy, since he appeared to know something that they didn’t. “Now. Would you like to tell Johnny and I why you wanted to meet us here?”
“I know where dey are,” Remy said without bothering to fuck around. There was certainty in his voice and, more importantly, in his eyes. Scott knew the man could lie with a smile on his face. But he also knew that Remy never lied with his eyes. There was no need when he could simply use misdirection.
“And how did you find that out?” Johnny asked, his tone suggesting he didn’t believe Remy. Scott could understand it. Why should Johnny believe him? He and Scott had been searching the same as them and had come up with nothing. How had Remy come up with information when they hadn’t?
“Remy got his sources,” the man told him. There was nothing in his tone or his demeanor to give away his feelings. He had himself wrapped up tightly. Scott wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. But he was going to give Remy the benefit of the doubt. Because what else could he do? No one seemed to know anything and Scott wasn’t sure who he should ask for information. Haley had her own sources and Scott was fairly sure they wouldn’t betray her trust.
“What have your sources told you?” Scott asked, deciding the best course of action was to move this meeting forward. Before tempers already worn thin frayed any further. The last thing they needed was to start a fight, with full powers, in the middle of a major metropolitan city. The damage would be terrible. And there would be innocent civilians caught in the crossfire.
And then there was what would happen when Haley got word of their behavior.
“Dare been here for two weeks. She fly in to London before getting on a train to Scotland. She disembark here in Edinburgh,” he began, letting his gaze slide around the table. Haley show up a week ago. Both she and Dare take a taxi from de city to a small village dat not on any map.”
“That sounds like a bunch of bullshit,” Johnny snorted. Scott was inclined to agree with him. How did one go to a village that wasn’t on the map? He didn’t think either Haley or Dare had been to Scotland before, so they wouldn’t have known about this supposed village that wasn’t on a map.
Remy stared at Johnny a moment, then reached into his coat and withdrew a stack of glossy paper that had been folded in half. After unfolding them, he took another moment to stare at them. Then he put the first one down on the table the same way Scott had seen him put a winning hand of cards down. It was done slowly and with great care. And one finger remained on the photo, which was placed in such a way that it was displayed for everyone at the table.
It was a full color image, taken from what looked to be a security camera. In it, Scott could see a young woman talking to an older gentleman. They stood on the sidewalk, next to an older model Mini. The gentleman was staring down at the baby seat the woman held and there seemed to be a fond expression on his face. The image didn’t prove anything, though, because there was no clear view of the woman’s face. Even before Scott could give voice to that thought, Remy laid down the next photo. It showed the older gentleman holding the back door of his Mini Cooper open for the young woman. She was in the process of climbing into the car. And, as luck would have it, her face was turned toward the camera. Despite the hat she wore to cover her head, her face was plain to see. Even over the distance between the camera and the car, it was plain to see that the woman was Dare.
The next photo came down. It was taken from the same angle, so likely from the same camera. It also showed the same older gentleman and the same Mini Cooper. He was talking to a woman slightly taller than him. Her back was to the camera and a scarf covered her hair. But she had a baby seat in one hand while the other grasped a small girl. The girl was looking at the camera, a broad smile upon her face.
“TJ,” Johnny breathed, his voice trembling with disbelief and fragile hope.
There was one more photo. This one was of the back of the Mini. And Scott could see Haley’s face as it peered out of the back window. He felt his eyes prick at the sight of her familiar, much loved features. He swallowed his emotions and turned his attention to Remy.
“Where are they?” Scott asked quietly.
Remy pulled a map from his coat pocket and laid it out on the table. There was a black circle drawn on the map. It was around a whole lot of nothing. “De village is here,” he put his finger next to the circle. “Wytching Village. Less dan a day’s drive from here.”
Johnny’s chair scraped the floor as he pushed it back to stand. He stared around the table. “So what are we fucking waiting for? Let’s fucking go.”
Scott couldn’t agree with that sentiment more.
~*~*~*~*~
“Och,” Morag said as she hurried through the door of the pub. “We’ve got trouble.”
Catriona looked up at the other woman, a frown on her face. “Trouble? What trouble? We never have trouble. You made sure of the fact that we’d never have trouble.”
“Aye. I ken that. Which doesnae make any sense.” Morag shot a look out the doors again before moving over to settle on a stool before the bar. Her gaze roved over the room, letting it settle on the rest of her friends. Effie and Felicity were involved in a game of cards. Abigail had her nose in a book and Wllemina was caught up in a cross stitch.
“So. What kind o’ trouble is it?” Catriona asked, one hand reaching under the bar for the shotgun she kept there. She’d never needed it. Morag had seen to that long ago. But that hadn’t stopped Catriona from keeping the shotgun there anyway. “Ye’ll see soon enough,” Morag commented. She turned to the others. “Look alive, ladies.”
The others had just moved over to stand by the bar when the doors to the pub opened and allowed trouble to enter. There were four of them, all strangers to the village. The tallest of them wore glasses with red lenses, his jaw clenched in a show of agitation or anger. A scruff of facial hair hid his chin and the glossy brown hair upon his head looked disheveled. His clothes were casual, a pair of dark jeans and a t-shirt molded to the muscles of his chest. The shirt was slightly wrinkled, as if he had paid little attention to what he’d put on when he’d dressed himself. A leather coat finished off the look, lending him a bit of a bad boy image.
If the first man bore a bit of that image, the man next to him lived and breathed it. Morag knew trouble when she looked at it and this one was all trouble. From the long length of his brown hair to the stubble upon his cheek to the dark color of his clothes. He, too, wore glasses, but these came with dark lenses that kept his gaze hidden. There was maybe a hint of a faint smile at one corner of his mouth and his hands were shoved deeply into the pocket of the coat he wore. He presented them with a languid, lazy pose. But Morag could see that he was ready to leap into action in the blink of an eye.
The next man was blonde, this one too with stubble upon his cheeks. Only a few days’ worth, though, as opposed to the two brunettes with him. This one wore clothes that were casually expensive, designer clothes made to look like the things the common people usually wore. He was slightly rumpled, his hair in mild disarray. Morag felt it came from running fidgety hands through it repeatedly. There was an air of anger about him, She knew it wouldn’t take much to kindle that anger and bring it to full burn.
The last man was the shortest. His hair was dark and rumpled. The same dark hair raced for his chin, not quite forming a beard but not far from completing the task. Blue eyes stared hard at her and her companions, as if contemplating whether or not he could beat from them whatever information he sought. He was also broad across the shoulders and the chest, stacked with muscle. There was an air to him, as there was with the others, that marked him and his companions as other. As something dangerous.
Catriona laid the shotgun on the bar, placing the weapon in plain sight so that the newcomers knew they wouldn’t have an easy time of it if they’d come to make trouble. “And what might strangers be doing here in our wee hamlet?” she asked, her tone cold and empty. Morag knew exactly where it was coming from. Because she was pretty sure she knew who these strangers were and why they’d come to Wythcing Village uninvited.
“We’re looking fer a couple of women,” the short one said, his voice laden heavily with a growl. Morag heard the soft intake of breath from behind her and turned to find that Effie was staring at the newcomer with wide eyes. Disbelief filled her expression. Curious.
“Well, you’ve found six of us, lad,” Abigail said. She moved up to stand beside Morag.
“You ain’t the women we’re looking for,” the man said.
“And who might ye be lookin’ for?” Catriona asked, one hand settling on the shotgun in warning. They all knew. They knew who their visitors were and why they’d come. It was part of why Morag’s carefully crafted precautions hadn’t kept the four of them out.
“There’s no need for that, ma’am. We aren’t here to harm anyone,” the tallest said. His tone made him sound harmless, as did the way he held his hands up as if in surrender. Morag didn’t buy the image for a moment. Instinct told her that these men were dangerous and she’d learned long ago to always trust her instincts. She put a hand against the bar and tapped out a beat with her fingertips.
“That’s right, laddie,” Willemina agreed. She’d moved to flank Abigail. With her came Effie and Felicity, so that the five of them spread out from the bar in a line. Every one of them stood facing the newcomers, and Morag was certain every one of them was ready and willing to protect their girls.
“Ladies,” the man who looked like walking trouble said, a smooth smile coming to his face. He reached into his coat and pulled out what looked like folded, glossy paper. It was a slow action, which let Morag know he was as well versed with trouble as she was. He approached the bar and slowly, carefully, laid the glossy paper on the flat surface. Catriona met his stare as she reached out and snagged the papers he’d dropped. When she opened them, Morag saw they were pictures. And she knew well and good who was in them.
Catriona spread all four of the pictures out and made a show of glancing at them. From where she sat, Morag could see Robbie and his Mini Cooper on the street. He was parked outside the train station in Edinburgh. It was normal for him to be there. Robbie was a people watcher, always on the lookout for those who needed help. Two of the images showed the moment he’d offered Dare a ride. Her face was hidden in the first, but visible in the second. The other two were set much the same. The first of them showed TJ’s little face as she looked around her. And the second caught Haley’s face as she looked out the back of the Mini.
Morag knew the others had inched closer to look at the photos. She didn’t bother glancing their way. And she knew they wouldn’t glance at one another. No one was going to betray the girls’ presence in their village.
Trouble glanced at each of them in turn, his attention finally returning to Catriona where she stood behind her bar. “Dese de women we lookin’ for,” he said pleasantly.
“And ye think these women are here in our wee village?” Morag questioned, making sure she gave him her best dead-eyed stare. She motioned around with one hand, a move meant to encompass the entirety of the village. It was good that the manor house was out on the moors, away from the main road into the village and prying eyes. “We dinnae often get visitors here. Are ye sure ye’ve got the right information, laddie?”
“Look, ma’am,” the blonde said, moving forward a few steps. He’d put on a broad, warm smile meant to coax all of them into letting down there guard. The boy was a player, or had been at some point in his life. And he figured he could use that experience to play them. As if such a tactic would work. Still, Morag adjusted her opinion on them. It was obvious the lot of them were trouble. Morag’s fingers continued their tapping, the rhythm changing to another one. She knew the women around her understood, but she put hope in the idea that the strangers did not. “We don’t want to cause trouble. We aren’t here to hurt anyone. We just want to find these women and talk to them. Please.”
Morag studied the four of them, trying to decide which of the men were looking for Haley and which were hunting after Dare. She had an idea, but she couldn’t be sure. The blonde looked vaguely familiar, as did the two brunettes. But she couldn’t be certain about that unless they took off their glasses and she got a good look at their eyes. The short one… She didn’t know him, but she suspected Effie might based on her reaction earlier.
“I think you lads have come to the wrong village,” Catriona said slowly, making sure they took each and every word in. “We dinnae see many visitors. The village isnae on the main road. It might be best if ye lot move on and leave our quiet hamlet be.”
“Yer hidin’ somethin’,” the short one growled. His eyes shifted from one face to the next. “Yer nervous. Which means yer lyin’. Where are the girls?”
“I beg your very pardon!” Abigail retorted, her tone filled with every ounce of her outrage. “How dare you come into our village and accuse us of lying! You’re complete strangers here! Did your mother never teach you any manners?”
“We mean no offense, ma’am,” the tallest of the lot said. There was apology in his voice. And Morag easily recognized him as some sort of ambassador or politician. Not any she’d ever heard of or seen. But the lad was in some sort of position that required him to be both of those and possibly more. “Its very important for us to find these women. We’ve been looking for them all over the place and my friend gathered information that suggested they came here. We don’t want to hurt anyone. We just want to talk to them.”
“And we’re tellin’ ye, laddie, that ye’ve come tae the wrong place,” Morag responded evenly. The tapping continued unabated. If any of the strangers felt the heaviness growing on the air, none of them made mention of it.
“Ma’am,” the tall one began. He moved closer, hands out at his sides to show he meant no harm. Morag didn’t buy that for a second. Not when she couldn’t see his eyes. “I promise you that we’re not here to cause trouble of any kind. We just want to find these women and talk to them. That’s all.”
“Kind of hard tae believe ye, laddie, when I cannae see yer eyes,” Morag pointed out, her rhythm changing once again. She turned to look at the other one. “And yers, as well.”
The second one chuckled softly before reaching up to tug the sunglasses from his face. Morag found herself staring into a pair of eyes that she’d seen only the night before in a much smaller face. More than that, the man’s face was suddenly entirely too familiar. She’d seen the paintings up at the manor house. She recognized the man’s appearance, even if it belonged to someone who had lived over four hundred years ago. Morag turned her attention back to the tallest of the four. There appeared to be a pained expression on his face. “Well?” she prompted.
“I wish I could do as you ask, but I can’t. Not without dire consequences,” the first man explained. He sounded like he genuinely meant it. Morag wasn’t quite ready to believe him and opened her mouth to launch another line of questioning.
But the doors opened at just that moment, allowing new comers to step inside the pub. No one glanced back, the stare off still going strong. But there was a silence that followed the new comers that spoke of bad things happening. It almost felt like the entire pub took a breath and held it and, suddenly, time seemed to stop.
It felt like it took forever, but it was the blink of an eye. Heads started to turn. Morag noticed that the short one’s attention shifted first. He’d even taken a step toward the door. Then the others followed suit, obviously alerted by their friend’s actions. They’d barely started to turn before a high-pitched squeal pierced the silence, followed by childish laughter. “Daddy!”
Little TJ came barreling into view, her arms up and open as she slammed into the blonde’s legs. The young man seemed stunned as he stared down at the little girl for a moment or two. Then he was crouching down so that he could gather the child into his arms. He hugged her to him fiercely, his face buried in the child’s shoulder. There was no doubt he was whispering in the girl’s ear. And Morag suspected he was using the child to cover the surge of emotions that had come over him.
Time started moving again. Morag found that the rest of the man were facing the door, staring at the three figures standing in it. Victoria stood before the doors, almost as if she was blocking the exit. Before her, Dare and Haley stood in silent shock. Both of them clutched a car seat in their hands. Even from her place by the bar, Morag could see that their knuckles had gone white with tension. No one moved or spoke, as if they hadn’t the strength to do so.
Morag turned to look at the other women with her. Each of them wore their concern where it was plain to see. Abigail looked like she wanted to go fetch the cricket bat she kept in her house and use it to crack skulls. Effie, Felicity, and Mina were eyeing their girls with a touch of sadness. And Catriona, while still resting her hands on the shotgun, stared on with resignation in her eyes. It looked like their time with their girls had come to an end. Morag gnashed her teeth and muttered a curse under her breath. The bastards had better not hurt their girls, or there’d be hell to pay.
“Haley,” the tall one whispered. Her name almost sounded like a prayer as it passed his lips. Haley stared at him, eyes wide with shock and touches of fear. Morag thought that perhaps, if not for Vicki standing behind her, Haley might have turned and run out into the street.
“Dare?” This from the man they knew to be Petra’s father. There was a question in her name and, upon looking at Dare’s face, Morag thought she knew what the question was. Because Dare wore no expression. In fact, if Morag had to hazard a guess, she’d be willing to say Dare wasn’t feeling anything about this unexpected development.
Dare stared at the four men a moment, then her gaze sought out those of her adopted Grans. She stared at each of them in turn, a question in her own eyes. Morag watched as, one at a time, each of the women around her nodded. It was a blessing. And a promise. They would protect her. No matter what. When Dare’s empty gaze swung to where Morag sat, she offered the girl a faint smile and, as the others had, nodded her head. Dare heaved a sigh and her shoulders dropped in what appeared to be defeat.
“Well. Shit.” Those two words were laced with a world of feeling. Morag couldn’t agree with the lass more.
Chapter Sixty: Discovered
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 out the window, watching as water droplets raced one another down the clear glass toward the wooden frame at the bottom. The sky beyond the glass was overcast and heavy with clouds that seemed to have been following them for the past few days. Rain poured in buckets, sending pedestrians scurrying along the sidewalks in both directions. Some, he noted, stepped inside store fronts to escape the deluge. Umbrellas of all colors bobbed in time with people’s steps, offering a dome of shelter for those who carried them. They’d been in Scotland for two days and it had been dreary and raining the entire time.
“You might want to think about shaving that mess off before we find Haley,” his companion said as he settled into the seat on his left. The comment saw him lifting his hand to scratch at the bristly hair on his chin.
“We might not find her,” he commented absently, gaze locked on the world passing them by on the other side of the plate glass windows.
“Don’t be such a pessimistic asshole,” the other man snapped, irritation and the first touches of the day’s anger coloring his words. It had been like this for nearly a week. The longer their search went on, the easier it was to upset his search partner. Not that he was doing much better. He just had years worth of shoving his anger down to keep him from exploding at any little provocation.
“You forget, Johnny. I am a pessimistic asshole. Ask anyone of the X-Men and they’ll tell you that I live to be a dick and make their lives hell.” He didn’t care if Storm caught the traces of bitterness in his voice. No matter what he’d told Haley, the idea that her team thought he’d intentionally tried to sabotage them still rubbed him the wrong way. And, since his patience was wearing ever thinner, it was easier to let that shit come out.
“Thinking like that will come true if you hold to it long enough,” Johnny replied, side-stepping the whole asshole issue. The other man settled a paper cup before him and Scott couldn’t help but catch the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that managed to waft out of the tiny drinking hole in the lid. “Its your favorite,” Johnny said after watching Scott stare at the cup for a while.
“Thank you,” Scott replied, lifting the cup to sip tentatively at the hot brew. How fucking bizarre was it that Storm knew how he liked his coffee and what his favorite roast was? It wasn’t that long ago that Johnny had been trying to take shots at Scott for daring to touch Haley. Now they were… some kind of friends. That relationship was still new, founded on their shared love for Haley. There had been discussions during their time searching for her that were, frankly, still hard to believe. Neither of them intended to give Haley up. They both loved her. Which left them with few options going forward. The most logical option was to suggest Haley split her time between them. But Scott knew her well enough to know she’d find that option akin to torture.
If he’d learned nothing else about Haley during their time in Sinister’s care, he had learned that she fully committed to everything. Her team. Her friendships. Her family. Her love. And she loved both of them. That fact had been obvious, even when things had been falling apart around them. In fact, her being in love with both of them was why things had fallen apart around them, Because Scott hadn’t wanted to step on Johnny’s toes. And he hadn’t wanted to hurt Jean. And Johnny hadn’t been able to reconcile everything that had happened with how he felt for his wife. Their inaction had led to Haley running from them. Because she thought it meant that they were both done with her.
Scott heaved a sigh and raked his hand through his hair. Proving to her that such a thing wasn’t true was going to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be much of a picnic for Johnny, either. Because they’d both decided, during their discussions, that the only option open to them was to share her. And neither one of them was certain just how Haley would react to that option.
“Where the fuck are those two, anyway?’ Johnny blurted out, his voice still touched by his temper. A glance his way showed Scott that Johnny had run his hand through his hair enough to leave it disheveled. The other man’s eyes were on the door, as if staring at it with such intent would see it opening to allow the reason they were sitting in this coffee shop to enter.
“I have no idea. But Logan has never really had respect for being on time and keeping appointments,” Scott replied, his gaze returning to the street beyond the window. “And Remy moves through life with all the care of a hound dog warming its belly under the sun.”
His description earned him a huff of laughter from his companion. Johnny fell silent, his focus given over to his phone. Scott let his gaze settle on the people passing the coffee shop by and the rain that fell. It was a dull, dreary day. And Scott had no fucking clue what the hell he was doing here. Beyond wasting time. He should be out looking for Haley. Not waiting for Logan and Remy to arrive and tell them whatever this meeting was supposed to be about.
During that first week, Scott and Johnny had been covering the west coast of the US and working their way toward the central part of the country where they were supposed to meet up with Remy and Logan. That had been the plan when this whole chase had started. And he knew that Logan and Remy had started their search in New York City because Dare was familiar with the homeless community there. Naturally they’d found nothing because Scott had figured out early on that Dare was much smarter than most people gave her credit for. If she’d gone into hiding in the city, the community there would have kept her hiding place secret. Because she was one of their own and she’d have had no problems threatening anyone with harm if they g.
The two of them had continued their search by traveling down the east coast, checking out all the major cities along the way. That, too, had been a huge bust. Then the two of them had just suddenly gone to New Orleans for some reason or another. It was an odd move to Scott, because was relatively certain Dare wouldn’t step foot in the Big Easy. Remy knew it like the back of his hand and Scott had no problem imagining that the Cajun knew someone who would be willing to tell him if they’d seen someone matching Dare’s description, carrying a baby with her, wandering around on Remy’s home turf.
They’d made arrangements to keep in contact by phone. Which had been okay for a day or two. But as time had worn on, the phone calls he’d gotten from Logan had been filled with a whole lot of nothing. Well, there had been a whole lot of Logan’s temper. It hadn’t taken him long to lose the thing and his rising anger had come out in his conversations with Scott. Given Scott’s own fading control on his temper, he’d matched anger to anger. That had left the two of them to constantly snap and throw insults at one another. Logan had been prone to snarling and threatening while Scott had stuck with the underhanded insults that always worked the other man up into a sputtering rage. Fun times.
Scott wanted to punch the hairy little fucker in the face with one of his strongest optic blasts.
The whole search arrangement they’d made before setting off had changed after Remy’s trip to New Orleans. Logan had informed Scott on one of their calls that he and Remy were heading to Europe and he’d suggested Scott and Johnny do the same. Scott wasn’t sure what had prompted Remy to head to New Orleans and he didn’t know what the man had done there. But there’d been a kind of hope unfurling in Logan’s voice that had suggested that maybe Remy had learned something important when he’d done… whatever it was he’d done. So, after much discussion and disbelief and annoyance, Johnny and Scott had made the decision to head to Europe. Which, for the past week, had led to a metric fuckton of exactly two things. Jack and Shit.
The only good news Scott had gotten during the entire madness of their willy nilly search bad come from Warren. His friend had been keeping him up to date with how things had been progressing with Jehnna during her sessions with Jean. And things sounded as if they were going surprisingly well. He’d said, during their last call, that Jehnna was almost entirely back to her normal self. Warren had helped her find a therapist who was willing to help her deal with the remaining parts of her trauma. Jehnna had apparently been horrified to learn she’d called her friends whores and had burst into tears at the idea she was the reason that Haley and Dare had fled. Scott knew that Jehnna had started seeing her therapist and, on top of it, she still met with Jean. According to Warren, Jean’s attitude had undergone a huge change and she’d told him that she wanted to make amends with both Scott and Haley for her behavior.
Scott was willing, but he felt like it was a sure bet such a thing would go over like shit in a punch bowl with Haley.
Warren had also mentioned, during one of their conversations, that Roxxy and Hank had kind of been holing themselves up in the labs whenever they had the chance and were researching some weird thing Hank had found in the girls’ blood tests. He hadn’t had anymore information than that and the lack of such information had left Scott with an odd feeling in his chest. Instinct told him it was something to do with Sinister and he was absolutely not a fan of whatever that might mean for Haley and the rest of the girls.
The jingling of the bell over the door brought Scott out of his thoughts. The door stood open wide, diluted light flooding in past the two figures that stepped in off the sidewalk. Even back lit as they were, there was no mistaking the tall, lanky frame belonging to Remy and the short, stocky figure that was Logan. The two of them moved further into the room, Remy leading the way, and the door closed behind them. Scott watched as they closed the distance between the door and the table he and Johnny occupied. Halfway there, Remy broke off and headed toward the counter to put in an order. That left Logan to finish the trek by himself. And the way he moved spoke more eloquently toward his growing fear and anger than the decidedly very unhappy look on his face.
Much like Johnny and Scott, Logan looked like seventy miles of bad road. His hair was wilder than usual, the grimace on his face so pronounced that even the lines that grooved his mouth had developed lines. His eyes carried a look that was almost entirely feral and the man’s hands were clenched into fists at his side. It looked as if he was fighting the urge to extend his claws. No doubt Dare packing up and running on him had been playing havoc with his ability to control himself. Which would have only gotten worse the longer she’d been gone. The difference in the man’s personality before he’d started dating her and after was like night and day. Scott wondered if Dare knew just how much of a calming influence she’d been on the man.
“Its about fucking time,” Johnny said after Logan had taken a seat. The other man chose not to reply, but that might have had something to do with the way he had his jaw clenched tight.
“Don’t provoke him, Johnny,” Scott said, only half meaning it. If he was being honest, Scott was just as eager for a fight as Logan appeared to be. Maybe planted the man’s ass deep in the dirt might help alleviate some of his anxiety and anger.
“Fuck that. He and the other idiot have kept us waiting for far too long,” Johnny snapped.
“Say it one more time,” Logan growled. Scott heard the sound of metal grating against metal from under the table. He turned to look at the man.
“Sheathe those claws or I’ll put you through the window,” Scott warned. For a moment, it looked as if Logan wanted to argue with him. But that passed soon enough and Scott was rewarded with the same grating noise as Logan put his claws away. “I get it. We’re all on edge. But starting a fight in public isn’t going to help our cause. So try and keep your egos and anger in check.”
“Big talk from the man who just threatened ta put me through the window,” Logan shot back.
“Big talk from the leader of the X-Men. I can toss your ass off the team just as quick as I can put it through a window,” Scott replied.
“Relax, mes amis,” Remy’s voice slid over them as he joined them at the table. He didn’t look to be doing much better than the rest of them. His eyes were rimmed red, as if he hadn’t been doing much sleeping lately, and the stubble on his chin had turned into a full blown beard. But there was a look of determination in his eyes that gave Scott a moment of hope. Maybe this meeting would be helpful instead of turning into a giant pissing match.
Remy settled into his seat, pushing a paper cup toward Logan as he did so. Idly, as if he had all the time in the world, the man sipped at his coffee. Scott swore he could hear Johnny bristling with anger at being made to wait longer. Logan glared violently at them but said nothing. And Scott did his best to look calm. To not let that faint kernel of hope grow so that the disappointment wouldn’t be as strong or as sharp.
“Easy for you to say,” Johnny continued, his temper plain to hear in his voice. “You’re not the one who has been sitting her for the better part of the last half hour, waiting for your sorry ass to get there. What’s the matter, LeBeau? Too caught up with charming the Scots women to be concerned about Dare?”
Remy had started Johnny’s rant with a smile. The end of it saw a frown taking its place. A faint pink glow came to life on the lid of Johnny’s coffee cup. “You wanna see Haley, you keep you stupidity to youself,” Remy warned quietly. The pink glow faded soon enough and Remy busied himself by sipping at his own coffee.
“That’s enough,” Scott ordered. His gaze slid from one man to the next, pinning them each with a stare that promised a world of hurt. He knew they couldn’t see it, but he was fairly certain they could well imagine it. He’d used that look with at least two of them repeatedly over the years. Then Scott turned his attention fully to Remy, since he appeared to know something that they didn’t. “Now. Would you like to tell Johnny and I why you wanted to meet us here?”
“I know where dey are,” Remy said without bothering to fuck around. There was certainty in his voice and, more importantly, in his eyes. Scott knew the man could lie with a smile on his face. But he also knew that Remy never lied with his eyes. There was no need when he could simply use misdirection.
“And how did you find that out?” Johnny asked, his tone suggesting he didn’t believe Remy. Scott could understand it. Why should Johnny believe him? He and Scott had been searching the same as them and had come up with nothing. How had Remy come up with information when they hadn’t?
“Remy got his sources,” the man told him. There was nothing in his tone or his demeanor to give away his feelings. He had himself wrapped up tightly. Scott wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. But he was going to give Remy the benefit of the doubt. Because what else could he do? No one seemed to know anything and Scott wasn’t sure who he should ask for information. Haley had her own sources and Scott was fairly sure they wouldn’t betray her trust.
“What have your sources told you?” Scott asked, deciding the best course of action was to move this meeting forward. Before tempers already worn thin frayed any further. The last thing they needed was to start a fight, with full powers, in the middle of a major metropolitan city. The damage would be terrible. And there would be innocent civilians caught in the crossfire.
And then there was what would happen when Haley got word of their behavior.
“Dare been here for two weeks. She fly in to London before getting on a train to Scotland. She disembark here in Edinburgh,” he began, letting his gaze slide around the table. Haley show up a week ago. Both she and Dare take a taxi from de city to a small village dat not on any map.”
“That sounds like a bunch of bullshit,” Johnny snorted. Scott was inclined to agree with him. How did one go to a village that wasn’t on the map? He didn’t think either Haley or Dare had been to Scotland before, so they wouldn’t have known about this supposed village that wasn’t on a map.
Remy stared at Johnny a moment, then reached into his coat and withdrew a stack of glossy paper that had been folded in half. After unfolding them, he took another moment to stare at them. Then he put the first one down on the table the same way Scott had seen him put a winning hand of cards down. It was done slowly and with great care. And one finger remained on the photo, which was placed in such a way that it was displayed for everyone at the table.
It was a full color image, taken from what looked to be a security camera. In it, Scott could see a young woman talking to an older gentleman. They stood on the sidewalk, next to an older model Mini. The gentleman was staring down at the baby seat the woman held and there seemed to be a fond expression on his face. The image didn’t prove anything, though, because there was no clear view of the woman’s face. Even before Scott could give voice to that thought, Remy laid down the next photo. It showed the older gentleman holding the back door of his Mini Cooper open for the young woman. She was in the process of climbing into the car. And, as luck would have it, her face was turned toward the camera. Despite the hat she wore to cover her head, her face was plain to see. Even over the distance between the camera and the car, it was plain to see that the woman was Dare.
The next photo came down. It was taken from the same angle, so likely from the same camera. It also showed the same older gentleman and the same Mini Cooper. He was talking to a woman slightly taller than him. Her back was to the camera and a scarf covered her hair. But she had a baby seat in one hand while the other grasped a small girl. The girl was looking at the camera, a broad smile upon her face.
“TJ,” Johnny breathed, his voice trembling with disbelief and fragile hope.
There was one more photo. This one was of the back of the Mini. And Scott could see Haley’s face as it peered out of the back window. He felt his eyes prick at the sight of her familiar, much loved features. He swallowed his emotions and turned his attention to Remy.
“Where are they?” Scott asked quietly.
Remy pulled a map from his coat pocket and laid it out on the table. There was a black circle drawn on the map. It was around a whole lot of nothing. “De village is here,” he put his finger next to the circle. “Wytching Village. Less dan a day’s drive from here.”
Johnny’s chair scraped the floor as he pushed it back to stand. He stared around the table. “So what are we fucking waiting for? Let’s fucking go.”
Scott couldn’t agree with that sentiment more.
~*~*~*~*~
“Och,” Morag said as she hurried through the door of the pub. “We’ve got trouble.”
Catriona looked up at the other woman, a frown on her face. “Trouble? What trouble? We never have trouble. You made sure of the fact that we’d never have trouble.”
“Aye. I ken that. Which doesnae make any sense.” Morag shot a look out the doors again before moving over to settle on a stool before the bar. Her gaze roved over the room, letting it settle on the rest of her friends. Effie and Felicity were involved in a game of cards. Abigail had her nose in a book and Wllemina was caught up in a cross stitch.
“So. What kind o’ trouble is it?” Catriona asked, one hand reaching under the bar for the shotgun she kept there. She’d never needed it. Morag had seen to that long ago. But that hadn’t stopped Catriona from keeping the shotgun there anyway. “Ye’ll see soon enough,” Morag commented. She turned to the others. “Look alive, ladies.”
The others had just moved over to stand by the bar when the doors to the pub opened and allowed trouble to enter. There were four of them, all strangers to the village. The tallest of them wore glasses with red lenses, his jaw clenched in a show of agitation or anger. A scruff of facial hair hid his chin and the glossy brown hair upon his head looked disheveled. His clothes were casual, a pair of dark jeans and a t-shirt molded to the muscles of his chest. The shirt was slightly wrinkled, as if he had paid little attention to what he’d put on when he’d dressed himself. A leather coat finished off the look, lending him a bit of a bad boy image.
If the first man bore a bit of that image, the man next to him lived and breathed it. Morag knew trouble when she looked at it and this one was all trouble. From the long length of his brown hair to the stubble upon his cheek to the dark color of his clothes. He, too, wore glasses, but these came with dark lenses that kept his gaze hidden. There was maybe a hint of a faint smile at one corner of his mouth and his hands were shoved deeply into the pocket of the coat he wore. He presented them with a languid, lazy pose. But Morag could see that he was ready to leap into action in the blink of an eye.
The next man was blonde, this one too with stubble upon his cheeks. Only a few days’ worth, though, as opposed to the two brunettes with him. This one wore clothes that were casually expensive, designer clothes made to look like the things the common people usually wore. He was slightly rumpled, his hair in mild disarray. Morag felt it came from running fidgety hands through it repeatedly. There was an air of anger about him, She knew it wouldn’t take much to kindle that anger and bring it to full burn.
The last man was the shortest. His hair was dark and rumpled. The same dark hair raced for his chin, not quite forming a beard but not far from completing the task. Blue eyes stared hard at her and her companions, as if contemplating whether or not he could beat from them whatever information he sought. He was also broad across the shoulders and the chest, stacked with muscle. There was an air to him, as there was with the others, that marked him and his companions as other. As something dangerous.
Catriona laid the shotgun on the bar, placing the weapon in plain sight so that the newcomers knew they wouldn’t have an easy time of it if they’d come to make trouble. “And what might strangers be doing here in our wee hamlet?” she asked, her tone cold and empty. Morag knew exactly where it was coming from. Because she was pretty sure she knew who these strangers were and why they’d come to Wythcing Village uninvited.
“We’re looking fer a couple of women,” the short one said, his voice laden heavily with a growl. Morag heard the soft intake of breath from behind her and turned to find that Effie was staring at the newcomer with wide eyes. Disbelief filled her expression. Curious.
“Well, you’ve found six of us, lad,” Abigail said. She moved up to stand beside Morag.
“You ain’t the women we’re looking for,” the man said.
“And who might ye be lookin’ for?” Catriona asked, one hand settling on the shotgun in warning. They all knew. They knew who their visitors were and why they’d come. It was part of why Morag’s carefully crafted precautions hadn’t kept the four of them out.
“There’s no need for that, ma’am. We aren’t here to harm anyone,” the tallest said. His tone made him sound harmless, as did the way he held his hands up as if in surrender. Morag didn’t buy the image for a moment. Instinct told her that these men were dangerous and she’d learned long ago to always trust her instincts. She put a hand against the bar and tapped out a beat with her fingertips.
“That’s right, laddie,” Willemina agreed. She’d moved to flank Abigail. With her came Effie and Felicity, so that the five of them spread out from the bar in a line. Every one of them stood facing the newcomers, and Morag was certain every one of them was ready and willing to protect their girls.
“Ladies,” the man who looked like walking trouble said, a smooth smile coming to his face. He reached into his coat and pulled out what looked like folded, glossy paper. It was a slow action, which let Morag know he was as well versed with trouble as she was. He approached the bar and slowly, carefully, laid the glossy paper on the flat surface. Catriona met his stare as she reached out and snagged the papers he’d dropped. When she opened them, Morag saw they were pictures. And she knew well and good who was in them.
Catriona spread all four of the pictures out and made a show of glancing at them. From where she sat, Morag could see Robbie and his Mini Cooper on the street. He was parked outside the train station in Edinburgh. It was normal for him to be there. Robbie was a people watcher, always on the lookout for those who needed help. Two of the images showed the moment he’d offered Dare a ride. Her face was hidden in the first, but visible in the second. The other two were set much the same. The first of them showed TJ’s little face as she looked around her. And the second caught Haley’s face as she looked out the back of the Mini.
Morag knew the others had inched closer to look at the photos. She didn’t bother glancing their way. And she knew they wouldn’t glance at one another. No one was going to betray the girls’ presence in their village.
Trouble glanced at each of them in turn, his attention finally returning to Catriona where she stood behind her bar. “Dese de women we lookin’ for,” he said pleasantly.
“And ye think these women are here in our wee village?” Morag questioned, making sure she gave him her best dead-eyed stare. She motioned around with one hand, a move meant to encompass the entirety of the village. It was good that the manor house was out on the moors, away from the main road into the village and prying eyes. “We dinnae often get visitors here. Are ye sure ye’ve got the right information, laddie?”
“Look, ma’am,” the blonde said, moving forward a few steps. He’d put on a broad, warm smile meant to coax all of them into letting down there guard. The boy was a player, or had been at some point in his life. And he figured he could use that experience to play them. As if such a tactic would work. Still, Morag adjusted her opinion on them. It was obvious the lot of them were trouble. Morag’s fingers continued their tapping, the rhythm changing to another one. She knew the women around her understood, but she put hope in the idea that the strangers did not. “We don’t want to cause trouble. We aren’t here to hurt anyone. We just want to find these women and talk to them. Please.”
Morag studied the four of them, trying to decide which of the men were looking for Haley and which were hunting after Dare. She had an idea, but she couldn’t be sure. The blonde looked vaguely familiar, as did the two brunettes. But she couldn’t be certain about that unless they took off their glasses and she got a good look at their eyes. The short one… She didn’t know him, but she suspected Effie might based on her reaction earlier.
“I think you lads have come to the wrong village,” Catriona said slowly, making sure they took each and every word in. “We dinnae see many visitors. The village isnae on the main road. It might be best if ye lot move on and leave our quiet hamlet be.”
“Yer hidin’ somethin’,” the short one growled. His eyes shifted from one face to the next. “Yer nervous. Which means yer lyin’. Where are the girls?”
“I beg your very pardon!” Abigail retorted, her tone filled with every ounce of her outrage. “How dare you come into our village and accuse us of lying! You’re complete strangers here! Did your mother never teach you any manners?”
“We mean no offense, ma’am,” the tallest of the lot said. There was apology in his voice. And Morag easily recognized him as some sort of ambassador or politician. Not any she’d ever heard of or seen. But the lad was in some sort of position that required him to be both of those and possibly more. “Its very important for us to find these women. We’ve been looking for them all over the place and my friend gathered information that suggested they came here. We don’t want to hurt anyone. We just want to talk to them.”
“And we’re tellin’ ye, laddie, that ye’ve come tae the wrong place,” Morag responded evenly. The tapping continued unabated. If any of the strangers felt the heaviness growing on the air, none of them made mention of it.
“Ma’am,” the tall one began. He moved closer, hands out at his sides to show he meant no harm. Morag didn’t buy that for a second. Not when she couldn’t see his eyes. “I promise you that we’re not here to cause trouble of any kind. We just want to find these women and talk to them. That’s all.”
“Kind of hard tae believe ye, laddie, when I cannae see yer eyes,” Morag pointed out, her rhythm changing once again. She turned to look at the other one. “And yers, as well.”
The second one chuckled softly before reaching up to tug the sunglasses from his face. Morag found herself staring into a pair of eyes that she’d seen only the night before in a much smaller face. More than that, the man’s face was suddenly entirely too familiar. She’d seen the paintings up at the manor house. She recognized the man’s appearance, even if it belonged to someone who had lived over four hundred years ago. Morag turned her attention back to the tallest of the four. There appeared to be a pained expression on his face. “Well?” she prompted.
“I wish I could do as you ask, but I can’t. Not without dire consequences,” the first man explained. He sounded like he genuinely meant it. Morag wasn’t quite ready to believe him and opened her mouth to launch another line of questioning.
But the doors opened at just that moment, allowing new comers to step inside the pub. No one glanced back, the stare off still going strong. But there was a silence that followed the new comers that spoke of bad things happening. It almost felt like the entire pub took a breath and held it and, suddenly, time seemed to stop.
It felt like it took forever, but it was the blink of an eye. Heads started to turn. Morag noticed that the short one’s attention shifted first. He’d even taken a step toward the door. Then the others followed suit, obviously alerted by their friend’s actions. They’d barely started to turn before a high-pitched squeal pierced the silence, followed by childish laughter. “Daddy!”
Little TJ came barreling into view, her arms up and open as she slammed into the blonde’s legs. The young man seemed stunned as he stared down at the little girl for a moment or two. Then he was crouching down so that he could gather the child into his arms. He hugged her to him fiercely, his face buried in the child’s shoulder. There was no doubt he was whispering in the girl’s ear. And Morag suspected he was using the child to cover the surge of emotions that had come over him.
Time started moving again. Morag found that the rest of the man were facing the door, staring at the three figures standing in it. Victoria stood before the doors, almost as if she was blocking the exit. Before her, Dare and Haley stood in silent shock. Both of them clutched a car seat in their hands. Even from her place by the bar, Morag could see that their knuckles had gone white with tension. No one moved or spoke, as if they hadn’t the strength to do so.
Morag turned to look at the other women with her. Each of them wore their concern where it was plain to see. Abigail looked like she wanted to go fetch the cricket bat she kept in her house and use it to crack skulls. Effie, Felicity, and Mina were eyeing their girls with a touch of sadness. And Catriona, while still resting her hands on the shotgun, stared on with resignation in her eyes. It looked like their time with their girls had come to an end. Morag gnashed her teeth and muttered a curse under her breath. The bastards had better not hurt their girls, or there’d be hell to pay.
“Haley,” the tall one whispered. Her name almost sounded like a prayer as it passed his lips. Haley stared at him, eyes wide with shock and touches of fear. Morag thought that perhaps, if not for Vicki standing behind her, Haley might have turned and run out into the street.
“Dare?” This from the man they knew to be Petra’s father. There was a question in her name and, upon looking at Dare’s face, Morag thought she knew what the question was. Because Dare wore no expression. In fact, if Morag had to hazard a guess, she’d be willing to say Dare wasn’t feeling anything about this unexpected development.
Dare stared at the four men a moment, then her gaze sought out those of her adopted Grans. She stared at each of them in turn, a question in her own eyes. Morag watched as, one at a time, each of the women around her nodded. It was a blessing. And a promise. They would protect her. No matter what. When Dare’s empty gaze swung to where Morag sat, she offered the girl a faint smile and, as the others had, nodded her head. Dare heaved a sigh and her shoulders dropped in what appeared to be defeat.
“Well. Shit.” Those two words were laced with a world of feeling. Morag couldn’t agree with the lass more.
(no subject)
Date: 2025-12-29 07:17 pm (UTC)I love that everyone is just a mess at this point. Unshaven, pissed off and done with the universe seems to cover all four of their moods. But even so, it's good to see that Scott and Johnny have worked out some of the tension and know what they need to do... here's hoping when they find Haley, she'll agree.
Remy needs to be slapped. lol Now is not the time to pick fights! Also, always a fan of Logan getting threatened by Scott. You know how I love that. ;)
Oh, the grans are not taking any guff at all, nor should they! Figures Scott's the only one that isn't neck need in shit with them but clearly that won't last. lol And of course TJ wants hugs from her dad! Ugh this is such a mess! Hopefully everyone can work it all out now that they don't really have any choice but to talk it out!
Great work, hun!
(no subject)
Date: 2025-12-30 10:44 pm (UTC)i love how the whole thing has shifted. the girls were both absolute messes when they ended up in Scotland. then time spent with the Grannies helped steady some of that out. not all of it, of course. there's a lot for them to work through. but enough that they aren't in fight or flight mode. okay, we know its flight mode. and the boys were the ones who were mostly on an even keel. now, two weeks later, they are absolutely on the opposite sides. and i'm sure the boys don't like it at all.
i feel like Scott and Johnny came to an understanding fairly quickly. it was either do that or they both lost Haley because i can't see her choosing one over the other at this point. i'm sure, when they explain where they're at and show her that they're serious about it, Haley will come around. i mean... look at what she's being offered!
Remy might just get his ass slapped, though not by anyone at that table. wait until later. but no. now is not the time to pick a fight. and i figured you'd love Scott's threat. honestly, i am a bit of a sadist and i want to see him carry through on it. we know Logan will come out unscathed. ... mostly
the Grans are absolutely not going to take any guff from those boys. and the four of them are going to have to work extra hard to prove to them that they mean what they say. that they're serious. i think Scott isn't (yet) neck deep with them is because he comes off as the most respectful of the bunch. Johnny tried to charm them and that didn't work. Remy took the direct approach and put them on edge. and Logan is... well, Logan. of course TJ is happy to see her Daddy and wants all the Daddy hugs. hopefully they're all on the right path now. i guess that remains to be seen.
glad you liked it, hon. stay tuned for more! eventually! <3