The Flight of the Valkyrie
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marysuevirusTitle: The Flight of The Valkyrie
Chapter Thirteen: Ghosts of the Past
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. flagrant abuse of a Scots accent and loads of pirates. much badly mangled pirate speech
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. the Sues are the sole property of their originators, Ginevra, Dazzledfirestar, Nanaea, SilverFoxChan and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
The Flight of the Valkyrie - The Index
She glanced around the interior of the captain's cabin and took in the slight puzzlement that resided on everyone's face. Everyone's but Dare's, that was. Jehnna could only see a kind of hollow resignation that seemed very unlike the Scottish wench. Other than herself and Dare, Morgan, Haley, Rosemary and Remy occupied the cabin. Someone had brought in a bottle of rum and it was presently clutched tightly in Dare's pale hand.
"Ees someone going to tell us what zis is all about?" Morgan asked, sounding put out. Dare shot the woman a look that would have frozen the fires of Hell, then promptly took a swallow off the bottle. "You `ave something to say, Dare?"
The woman opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and scowled. Jehnna watched as Remy reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. His touch seemed to give the woman strength because she straightened in her chair and let her gaze land on each of them. "Thor's guest last night," she began. Out of the corner of her eye, she notice that Rosemary and Haley shifted. It was a minor thing, just a slight move that suggested they might know something.
"Samuel Lord. Brother to Robert Lord." Haley was the one who spoke, breaking the sudden silence that had fallen between them. Dare's head jerked in an affirmative before she lifted the bottle of rum to her lips again.
"He came looking for Robert's murderer." Rosemary added. Jehnna watched as Dare tightened her grip on the bottle until it appeared she would shatter the glass. Remy reached down and gently pried the bottle from her hold. The hand on her shoulder squeezed lightly, as if to say that he was at her back. The look on her face suggested that she wanted nothing more than to run screaming from the room. that whatever reason she'd had for calling them there was more frightening to her than one of the Queen's frigates with every gun pointed at their little sloop. "Dare, you can tell us. No one here will judge you."
The Scots wench lifted her head and pinned a disbelieving stare on the other woman, then she heaved a sigh and raked her hands through her hair. "Some years ago, before I met the lot o' ye, I served on another pirate ship. The Black Death was..."
"You pirated on zat ship?" Morgan asked, eyes wide. Dare nodded again, her hands flexing in her lap. No doubt she wished she still had the bottle of rum to keep her company, but Remy held on to it tightly. "Captain Wilson was rumored to be ze most dangerous pirate on ze seven seas."
"He was a bastard and more. Dinnae ever think anathing else." Dare let her gaze slide from one face to the next so that they saw the darkness lurking in her eyes. She'd always been more blood thirsty than the others. That was something that Jehnna had known from the first moment she'd met the other woman. But seeing that look in her eyes... It was almost enough to scare Jehnna because there was absolutely nothing in them. Just a deep, black nothing that threatened to pull them all in. "But his luck ran out. We found ourselves surrounded by six frigates. Anaone who didnae die in the battle was locked away in the brig and returned tae Her Majesty's prison tae await trial."
There was a sneer given to the last part of the sentence that spoke very plainly about how she felt about the Queen. Rosemary spoke this time. "I remember that. The news was so great that it was all my father could speak of for days. He was almost giddy with the news that the crew had been put to death for their crimes. Wilson made a habit of terrorizing any ship he came across. Many of my father's shipments fell prey to the man."
Dare grimaced at the news and opened her mouth, perhaps to apologize to Rosemary, but the other woman waved a hand at her. So Dare sighed and fell silent, obviously searching for the right words. It seemed none were forthcoming because she said nothing immediately. "How is it the rest of the crew is dead and you are not?" Haley asked. Jehnna didn't think that it was an idle question. There had to be some great deal of importance to the woman's answer.
The Scots wench shrugged Remy's hand off and rose to her feet, then stalked across the cabin to stare out the squares of glass that created the ship's grand windows toward the open sea. "I made a deal." There was a heavy blanket of self-loathing in the woman's words.
"Dare..." Remy rose and turned to her, but she shook her head even though she hadn't looked away from the glass. He stopped and simply watched her, obviously torn between going to her and allowing her the space she so desperately wanted.
"I was a coward. I was young. I didnae want tae die. Sae I made a deal."
"You were scared and you did what you had to in order to survive," Jehnna said. Dare shrugged one shoulder, as if it didn't matter one way or the other. But she seemed reluctant to say more. The stiffness of her posture all but screamed that she wasn't going to finish. Jehnna decided to prod her on. "What deal could you make that was so terrible?"
"The bitch on the throne sent her dogs tae yap at my heels. I was given a choice. I could go tae my death, a traitor tae the crown. Or I could agree tae do as she bade me and keep my head on my shoulders. I agreed tae do as she bade me. Anathing seemed better than a date with the executioner's axe." A few hairs floated around the woman's head, a sure sign that her temper was building. That she'd set nothing on fire yet was amazing. "Death would have given me freedom. No' this half life I live now."
"What did she ask of you, Dare?" Haley asked gently.
"No' did. Does. What does she ask o' me." Dare snorted and turned further away from them. Her voice was almost too soft to hear when she spoke again. "Whatever she likes. And all the targets she names are Witchbreed."
"Zis is all interesting, Dare. But what does it `ave to do with Robert Lord and `is brother?" Morgan asked. Jehnna wanted to know that, too. Especially when she saw Haley and Rosemary share a look with one another.
"One of my early assignments was tae win Robert Lord's favor," she said softly, a world of emotion simmering in her voice. She paused briefly. When her next words came, they were bitter and filled with hate. "And then tae kill him."
"Dare..." Remy began. Something in his voice caught the woman's attention and she turned to look at him. There were tears in her eyes. Real tears. "You loved him." It wasn't a question. How he knew, Jehnna didn't know. He just did. And Dare just nodded her head even though everyone knew it wasn't a question. "Why, Dare? Why you do it?"
"Because they ordered me tae do it." There was more hate with those words and Jehnna realized that the hate was directed back toward Dare, that she hated herself for what she'd done. Jehnna stared, unable to fully comprehend what she was hearing. She'd known that Dare was a killer. They all were. But to have killed someone she professed to love? Because she'd been ordered to do it? How could Dare have done that?
"How, Dare? How did this happen? How would you have even met someone like Robert Lord?" Haley questioned softly.
"Laird Stark." The Scots wench spit the words out like they left a bitter taste in her mouth. "`Tis nay coincidence that he just happens tae find me when we dock in Kennewycke. `Tis how he delivers my orders. Letters. Letters with names and places."
"It is because of him that you met Robert Lord?" Rosemary asked, though it was obvious that Stark was the answer to everything.
"Aye. He took me tae a party," she told them, a snort ending the sentence. Obviously it had been the kind of party that Dare would never have gone to if not for Stark and her deal. For just a moment, Jehnna tried to imagine Dare dressed up in the garb of a courtier, of some lady fair. She simply couldn't. It was a side of the other woman she didn't think had ever existed. "I met Robert there. I was supposed tae use my feminine wiles on him. But he saw through it all."
Haley laughed at that. "That doesn't surprise me, Dare. Your feminine wiles have been shoved into the shadows by your pirating ways." Dare shot her a glare that did nothing to dim the redhead's mirth. While her smile didn't die, Haley made an attempt to be more serious. "Forgive me. Please. Continue your tale."
"Robert tauld me I was a kindred spirit. He'd lost his wife and that led him tae do whatever he liked. He didnae care what his peers thought of him. We shared that attitude. I cared naught for those traits that the nobility shunned. And he didnae care that I was naught more than a Scots barbarian wench. I spent much of my time with him. And I came tae love him." She stopped and fell silent again. Jehnna wondered for a while if they would have to prompt her. Dare turned back to the glass and stared at the vast stretch of water behind them. "I didnae want tae kill him. But if I hadnae done it..."
"You would have found yourself back on the executioner's block," Rosemary said when it became obvious the other woman wouldn't finish the thought. Dare nodded. "Dare, you..."
"I tauld ye I was a coward. I shouldnae have done it. I should have let him live. I should have let them take my head. I should have..." The words trailed off into silence. Jehnna could no longer see Dare's face. She'd allowed her hair to fall down and obscure everyone's view. Whether the woman had done it for privacy or because she'd thought she would face harsh judgement, Jehnna couldn't say. But it was obvious that this had been eating at her for a very long time.
After several long moments of silence, moments in which the tension grew until it felt as if the entire cabin would explode, Remy rose from his seat by the table and carefully made his way to where Dare stood. He stood behind her for a few seconds, one hand hovering in the air just over her shoulder as if he was afraid to touch her. Then the hand closed the distance and curled over her shoulder. Dare didn't react to the touch at all. "Dis Robert Lord, he look like me, hmmm?" he asked her. His voice was so soft, a whisper would have been louder. But no one was making and sounds, so it was easy to hear him.
Seconds ticked by as Remy waited for his answer. When it became obvious that none would be forthcoming, Haley was the one that broke the silence. "You could be his twin or a mirror image, Remy. You've the exact same appearance as Robert Lord."
The man turned his demon stare toward the redhead and studied her for a long time. When he spoke again, he directed his question her way. But his hand never shifted away from Dare. "And what kind of man was he? He de kind of man who hide behind a woman? Or he de kind of man who stand up for himself?"
Jehnna watched as the two of them studied one another. Haley looked slightly confused by the questions at first, but then her face cleared and a faint smile tugged up the corners of her mouth. "While I never met Robert Lord myself, the man was reputed to have been deeply in love with his wife. When she died, it killed something inside of him. He never settled with one woman again, that anyone knew of. But I know of more than one occasion where Robert dueled to save the reputation of a lady who had been accused of infidelity by her husband. Usually with Lord, mind you. But he always won and preserved the lady's honor. By all accounts, Robert Lord was an honorable man."
"If dis all true, Dare, you t'ink dat Robert would have wanted you to give up you life for him?" Remy asked her softly. She didn't move, but his hand slid higher up her shoulder until he could brush her hair away from her face. Dare glanced up at him, her head barely turning away from the glass. Barely, but far enough that they could all see the tears that trickled silently down her cheeks. "If it come down to it, you t'ink I want you to give up you life for me? You do what you have to. No one gon' blame you for dat."
"Mayhap not," she whispered hoarsely before pulling away from his touch. Anger made her steps brisk and sharp as she returned to the table. The bottle of rum was clasped tightly in her hand when she turned to face them all again. "But do ye believe they'll no' blame me when I tell them that I've been ordered to turn them in tae the redheaded bitch? Because I have. I've been ordered to turn in the crew of The Valkyrie."
The five of them were left stunned by her announcement, allowing Dare to escape the cabin with the rum in hand. Mother of God! What would happen to them? Jehnna let her gaze skim to the other faces and saw the same question burning in the other women's eyes. Would Dare turn on them, too? Would she give them up to save her own life? Or would she do whatever she could to save them, even if that meant once more facing the executioner's axe?
~*~*~*~*~
Remy stood at the rail, staring out over the ocean as the sun slowly sank down below the edge of the world. The surface of the water was calm, painted in shades of blue, red, orange, yellow and, in the far off distance, black. The fresh, salty air caressed his face and carded invisible fingers through his hair. The night felt as if it would be cool, the breeze blowing slightly chill against his skin. No one had bothered him all day as he'd gone though the chores that Dare had taught him. For a time, the assigned tasks had been a welcome solace. Concentrating on each job kept his mind from lingering on the information he'd been given earlier. Kept him from thinking about the mess his life had become.
But now, in the face of the setting sun, with all of his duties completed and gone, there was nothing to keep him from giving in to the tumultuous thoughts that crashed through his mind. Images of Dare with a man who looked like him. Images of them clasped together in a passionate embrace. Images of her face, wet with tears, as she'd carried out her assignment and ended Robert Lord's life.
He couldn't really wrap his mind around that bit of news.
It shouldn't bother him as much as it did. He knew that Dare was a pirate, that all of the women he'd known in his present were pirates here in the past. Scourges of the sea. Deadly and dangerous in their chosen lives as pirates and even more so because they were women in a man's world. It was brutal truth and practicality that saw them taking men's lives. He knew, from an intellectual stand point, that killing was how they all survived. And the world they lived in was one where it was kill or be killed. Some part of him understood that. Some where deep inside, he knew that she would do what she had to in order to survive.
But another part of him, a part less rational and more emotional, was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that Dare had killed someone. The Dare in the future, the Dare he knew who had so briefly belonged to him, would never have done something like that. He'd felt her emotions often enough to know that she abhorred killing. Not that she hadn't done it. She had. When she'd been backed into a corner, she'd let the flames loose and allowed them to do as they wanted. It was something she'd never really been aware of doing until after the deed had been done. But he knew it was something she despised doing. Something she'd never forgiven herself for.
If he was to remain stuck in this time, how could he reconcile the Dare he'd known in his present with the Dare here in the past? This Dare seemed almost blood thirsty compared to the other Dare. This version of her had taken lives to save her own. Present day Dare, Morgan's best friend, would never make such a decision. She'd always do what was right. She was a hero. She'd willingly sacrifice herself for someone she loved if it would save their life. That Dare was selfless. This Dare... She was not.
He sighed and shook his head. Was it really fair of him to judge the past version of Dare with the present one? Two different times. Two different worlds. Two different people. Two entirely different sets of rules and circumstances. Rules and circumstances that didn't mesh with one another. But what about one of the most basic rules in human history? Thou shalt not kill. It was one of the ten commandments. One of the laws set down by God to guide and govern his people. Remy might be a lapsed Catholic, but that was one lesson he remembered well from his youth. And in this time, people were supposed to have been religious. Did these women not believe in God's laws? Did they not believe in God?
Remy was willing to admit that he wasn't the best Catholic in the world. Hell, he wasn't even the best Christian in the world. But growing up in New Orleans, growing up in the French Quarter, religion had been a part of his life. He'd spent enough time in church as a child and religion had played some role in his formative years. Perhaps he wasn't as religious as some, but he knew who God was and he knew that there were some things the big man took a very dim view on. Murder was one of those things.
That left him wondering why, in a world that relied so heavily on religion and the church, Dare would forsake her immortal soul in favor of ending someone else's life. Did she not feel her soul was worth salvation? Or was it something worse? Did the woman believe she was already damned to Hell? He'd seen enough to know that this time took a very dim view on people like her. Like himself. Mutants. Witchbreed. He had no doubts that the church taught them that such people were evil. That they belonged to the Devil and that they would burn in Hell for all eternity. Had Dare decided to do as she would since her fate had already been decided for her?
"She's a good person, no matter what you may think of her." The voice startled him from his thoughts. It was rare that anyone snuck up on him, his empathy allowing him the opportunity to sense someone by their emotions long before they closed in on him, so it was surprising that Rosemary was just suddenly standing at his elbow. Remy blinked at her before realizing what it was she'd said.
"I know she a good person," he told her, watching the way the remnants of the sun burnished her skin with dusky gold hues.
She said nothing to that, simply stared at him for a few seconds. Her smile, when it came, was secretive and knowing. "I know you believe that of the other Dare. But you find it difficult to believe that of this Dare." There was such certainty in her voice that he couldn't stop the shocked, surprised look that crept across his face. "I have seen distant places filled with tall buildings of glass, and sleek carriages that roll on even black surfaces that have no horses to pull them, and of people like us. Only they use their Witchbreed powers in open view of one and all. I know that this is the place you call home, Remy. And I know that you've met us before coming to this place."
"How you know dat?" he asked calmly.
"I see things in my dreams. Often times, they come true. I have seen your life and I know that this place distresses you. I know that you remain with us because we are familiar in face if not in actions."
He'd never considered telling anyone that he came from a different time. He was sure that no one would believe him. But here was Rosemary, very calmly stating that she knew he came from an entirely different world. He wondered for a moment if she was mocking him, but she radiated nothing but sincerity. "I'm havin' a hard time wit' de differences."
"You think that because this Dare kills so easily that she is less than the one you know?" Rosemary asked softly.
"De Dare I know... She don' kill people. She a hero. She help people. She save dem. She don' kill dem to save herself." He turned to stare at Rosemary and let her see the confusion that plagued him. She offered him a faint smile and motioned out toward the ocean.
"What do you see when you look at the water?" she asked him. He frowned at the seeming abrupt and odd change of subject, but he turned his gaze toward the water and stared.
"It calm. Flat. Serene. Beautiful."
"Yes," Rosemary nodded, then lifted her finger. "But that beautiful serenity hides danger in its depths, does it not?"
Remy thought back to the storm that had nearly destroyed the sloop. That had nearly cost Dare her life. He nodded but said nothing. He was sure that Rosemary had a point to make, he just couldn't see what it was. Not yet.
"Would it not be fair to say that when there is danger on the outside, there is beautiful serenity on the inside?"she asked lightly. He said nothing, but he nodded his head. Hadn't he seen that for himself with the Dare from his present? Hadn't he seen her soften and become someone else with Morgan? With Logan? Even with himself? Hadn't he seen her help one of the younger students in a snowball fight just this past Christmas? She'd teamed up with the boy when no one else wanted to have him on their team. And together, the two of them had won that snowball fight. It had been the first time that boy had smiled since his parents had dropped him at the school. And it had been one of the few times Dare's rich laughter had echoed around the mansion's grounds so freely.
"I have seen Dare caught in the grips of her blood lust. I've seen her cut down her foes with nary a concern for herself. And I've seen her go to the aide of a woman and her small children for no reason other than some man was attempting to hurt them." Rosemary turned to look at him. "We happened across another pirate ship as it attacked a vessel that carried passengers. The cries of the women and children who were on board carried to us across the waters. And Dare ordered us to their side so that we could offer them our help."
"But Dare not de captain," he pointed out.
"She is not. But the crew knows better than to argue if one of us is to issue a command." Rosemary paused. The look in her eyes suggested she was recalling the memory she'd been talking about. "The men of that pirate ship would have raped the woman, possibly the girls, too. And Dare was having none of it. She charged into battle, heedless of the danger to herself, to save those innocents. The slaughter she unleashed that day served as a warning to other pirates who might have thought to do the same thing. There are good reasons as to why those who travel the open seas are frightened of us."
"But she kill someone she love," he pointed out.
"How old do you think she is?" Rosemary asked. Remy could only stare at her. He didn't know what this had to do with anything. And it wasn't something he'd ever considered. He supposed that she was an adult, but the concept of adulthood was much different here than in his time. Without speaking, Remy just shrugged a shoulder. "She has barely reached her twenty fourth year. She has been on the sea since her thirteenth summer. Imagine facing your death before really finding the chance to live your life. Had she been older, mayhap she would have made a different choice. But she wasn't. And she truly regrets her actions."
He knew that well enough. He'd felt the regret and the guilt on her for some time. It had been stronger last night after she'd seen Samuel Lord, after she'd spoken to Stark. And she'd practically been drowning in it when she'd told her tale this morning. This had obviously been bothering her for some time. He hadn't been privy to everything that had gone between her and Stark last night, but whatever it was, it had to have been what decided her to finally come clean. "I don' know, Rosemary."
"You should give her the benefit of the doubt, Remy."
"She kill a man she say she loves." He was sure the look on his face suggested that he couldn't get past that action.
"Have you never done anything you've regretted?" she asked him. There was nothing in her voice, no curiosity or judgement or dismay. It was merely a question to her. "If not, then you are a better human than any of us here. But if you stay here with us, you will eventually be forced to take a life. And at the moment when you do, I want you to think upon our conversation. Dare will never admit such to you, but she needs your shoulder to lean on while she tries to forgive herself for this. It will be easier for her to do so if you forgive her first."
He didn't think it would be that simple. For either of them. She was in love with a dead man. Not him. At least, he didn't think she was in love with him. He'd gotten a sense of love off of her, but he couldn't be sure that it wasn't love for Robert. Could it possibly be love for him? Or did she see a dead man when she looked at him? Even though he knew that he'd never love her the way she wanted or deserved, he did care about her. And he didn't want to be a replacement for a corpse.
Rosemary said nothing to him while he gave consideration to her words. She simply stood at his side and watched the ocean pass and the last of the sun as it finished sinking under the horizon. He had no idea if he'd ever make it back to his own time. If he didn't, if he was stuck here in this time, he knew he needed her. Someone. He couldn't survive in this time without a guide. And Dare had already appointed herself that guide. Whether he liked it or not, he needed to speak with her. He needed to make this thing right. He needed her.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Remy turned to Rosemary and offered her a faint smile. "Where she at?"
"She is back in the cabin. She is alone." Rosemary assured him. He nodded at her, then pulled away from the rail and headed toward the cabin. He was more than aware of several sets of eyes locked onto his back as he went. A heavy curtain of tension followed him. He felt a sense of relief flood through him when he was hidden from view and he paused long enough to knock on the door. There was no answer, but he knew she was in there. He could feel the roiling tumult of her emotions through the wooden panel.
Another sigh escaped him. This was not going to be easy. Grasping the knob, he opened the door. Dare was once again standing by the wall of windows, forehead pressed to one pane as she stared out into the growing gloom. She didn't look up at him at all. Remy stood in the open doorway for several long seconds, then took a step inside. The door closed quietly behind him.
Here went a whole lot of nothing...
~*~*~*~*~
Logan watched the five figures move through the obstacle course he'd programmed in for them, his scowl so frightening that he was sure the younger students would piss themselves if they saw him. Truth be told, he thought the five of them might piss themselves if they saw it. As the days passed, it became more and more obvious that the girls were losing their edge. He'd watched Morgan pull further into herself with each hour that slipped by. And Dare... Her guilt was so thick and deep that the hard won control he'd helped her find was practically gone. As if she knew what he was thinking, a curtain of fire shot up the walls and nearly scorched her teammates. His finger stabbed at the intercom button with a growl. "Damn it, Dare! Get yer head in the game. Focus!"
The look she shot him was easy to read, even across the distance between them. Nothing he was doing seemed to be keeping her from exploding. And every day, it was only getting worse. Haley's voice floated up to him, and she sounded faintly worried. "We just need a short break, Logan. Then..."
"Run it again. Now!" he ordered tersely and restarted the program. There was a group groan before the five of them flew into action one more time.
Things were getting way too out of hand. Not just with Dare and Morgan, who barely spoke to one another anymore, but with all of them. Losing Gumbo was affecting all of them. Not that it was as easy to see with the others as it was with Dare and Morgan, but he'd trained them long enough to know it just by looking at them. Haley, always a strong leader, was beginning to doubt her skills. There were times, like just a few moments ago, when she seemed to forget that she'd been born to run a team and she ended up second guessing everything. Those were the occasions when it became obvious that she was afraid she was losing her team and, even worse, she didn't know how to stop it from happening. She didn't know how to save them.
Roxxy, always the quiet and analytical one of the group, had grown restless and uneasy. He saw it in both of her forms. When she was human, hands that were usually steady and sure in their work often times shook for no apparent reason. And there was a look lurking in the depths of those golden eyes, the ones that said a predator was hidden just under the surface, waiting to break free. When she was the cat, her tail swished aggressively and hunger shone in her eyes. He didn't think it would take much to set her off. If something triggered her more animalistic reactions, he was sure they'd find out just how wild Catseye could become.
And then was Jehnna. She'd always been the shyest of the group. The quietest and most reserved. But her worry was leaking out in the form of subharmonics, minute vibrations that only he, Roxxy and Hank would be able to pick up. There was no doubt that she was worried about her team and her friends.
If something didn't happen soon, if they didn't find the Cajun, things would fall apart in a spectacular way.
There was a second flare of flames that rose up to obscure the windows and the cameras for just a moment. Logan's sharp hearing caught the faint cry of an animal in pain. His temper broke with the sound, one hand crushing the button that would terminate the program. The other hand hit the sprinklers, sending water cascading down on the five women. "That's enough! Catseye, get down to the infirmary and have Hank check ya out! Morgan, Haley and Jehnna, I want all of you to hit the showers. Dare, you better park yer ass right there and wait for me. We're gonna have a talk, girl."
He watched through the windows as the five of them looked at each other. It took a few moments, but they started moving. Roxxy had shifted back into human form and had no doubt lost the burns Dare's careless flames had left on her, but he wanted Hank to check her out all the same. She was out the door first, followed by Jehnna and Haley. Morgan stood there and stared at Dare, who was staring at the ground with her hands balled into fists, then finally shook her head and turned to walk out the door. Only when Dare was alone did he take his eyes off the windows and actually start breathing again.
"Now ain't the time to start, Slim," he growled without turning away from the control panel.
"I'm not here to start anything, Logan. I came to check on them." Summers' voice didn't hold any of its usual arrogance, just a weary sense of exhaustion that suggested he'd been spending too damned many late nights trying to figure out a way to bring Gambit home. Logan turned to eye him, surprised to see the faint hints of worry and fear etched into the lines at the corners of his mouth. No doubt some of those same lines had taken up residence around his eyes.
Logan snorted and shook his head, fingers moving absently over the keyboard to ready a new program. "They're falling apart. Nothing I do makes a god damned bit of difference, either. Never thought I'd see them sidelined like this. Not after they worked so hard to earn the right to be an official team."
Scott moved further into the room to stare at the monitors. They all showed Dare just standing there, hands fisted while her hair floated around her head like she was caught in a gale force wind. "She blames herself for all of it, doesn't she?"
"She's damned good at blaming herself," Logan replied, one hand scrubbing at his face absently. "Doesn't matter to her that it ain't her fault. She won't listen to me. And I don't know how the hell to help her."
"I'm sure that the professor would be willing to do something to help," Summers suggested. "And if not him, then you could always ask Jean."
"She ain't going to let anyone go fucking around in her head. You know that." Logan gave a snort of disgust and shook his head. The look he sent the other man was as unfriendly as they got. "Looks like yer gonna get yer wish after all. Purple team is goin' down in flames and you don't have to worry about them again."
The man clenched his jaw while one hand raked almost violently through his hair. They stared at one another for a good long time before Scott shook his head and stared down at the monitors. Dare was wiggling her fingers in the air, making ropes of flame twitch and dance. And her mouth was moving silently. Not that Logan needed to hear what she was saying. He'd heard it all before. Every single threat and promise Dare had made to Fitzroy. Some of the things she planned on doing to him scared the living hell out of Logan. He'd never realized before that the fire bug had such an evil streak in her. Part of him was afraid that she was sliding into madness and there was nothing he could do to help her.
"The bet was stupid. I never should have... Damn it, Logan. You can't tell me that you don't worry what will happen to them when they go out on missions. They're young and they've barely got any practical experience."
"`Course it scares me." Logan grunted his reply out, his eyes locked on Scott's even though he couldn't see them through the ruby lenses of his glasses. "You think I want to see any of `em get hurt? But they're strong and they're capable. We can't protect `em forever." He left off the fact that he knew he couldn't protect Dare forever.
"And does that make it easier to watch them go off on a mission?" The question came as a surprise, Scott's voice soft and lacking its usual heat of anger or arrogance. The man moved to lean up against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. "All the training in the world doesn't matter if they come up against someone better than they are. And they will. You know it happens to all of us sooner or later. What happens when one of them doesn't come home?"
The words sizzled through his brain like lightning. For just an instant, his heart and brain seized as he imagined just that. How it would affect the rest of the team if one of their own didn't make it home. How it would affect him if... He couldn't even let himself think that. Frowning, he glanced up at Scott. "I don't see how any of that matters to you, Slim. I seem to recall you don't care for the Purple team much."
Summers' jaw tightened with his anger. But he didn't let it explode from him when he spoke, kept it tightly leashed and tucked away. "I don't care for the idea of a bunch of young girls going out to face all the world's evils on their own. In fact, I don't care for the idea of a bunch of young kids, male or female, going out to face all the world's evils on their own. It isn't the team I object to. Its the fact that they're willingly giving up their youth to fight a fight that we both know will make them old before their time. Is that what you want for them?"
"No. But it ain't my choice. And it ain't yers, either."
"That doesn't make it any easier for me to let them go. And not just Purple team. Any of the teams. If something happens to them, its ultimately my responsibility." There was a tone to his voice that Logan couldn't recall ever hearing in it before. Fear and regret. Scott was the leader of the X-Men. All the teams. And he took his role seriously. Apparently far more seriously than he'd ever let on. Logan studied him carefully, taking in the stance, with its forced relaxation, and the way his lips were pressed thin.
Summers had always been the backbone of the X-Men, had always been the one in control. Logan had never wanted such a responsibility because he'd never known from one day to the next if he'd stay. Scott had shouldered that responsibility without complaint. Without any indication that it was something he'd rather not have done. Logan had always assumed the man's arrogance and his dickhead nature had come from being the leader. But now, he wasn't so sure. He was starting to think that the arrogance and the stick up his ass came from the amount of care and concern that he had for the teams. From his desire to keep them all safe. From his inability to truly do so.
Staring at him, Logan wished, and not for the first time, that he could see the look in the other man's eyes. It was so much easier to read someone when you could see the expression in their eyes. Oh, he'd gotten good at reading minute changes in Scott's facial muscles. But that would never be as good as staring the man in the eyes. Logan muttered a curse under his breath and turned back to the monitors. Dare had graduated from ropes of flame to figures that bore eerie resemblance to Fitzroy. And the things she was doing... "I don't know what to do about her, Slim. I think she's losing her mind. Nothing seems to vent the growing rage."
Scott was silent for a few moments, then leaned over to settle his hand on Logan's shoulder. "Let her take it out on someone she can't stand."
Logan chuckled at that. "In case ya ain't noticed, Slim, she don't like many people."
"I actually had someone in mind," Scott replied. There was something in his voice that made Logan glance up at him. The determined curve of Summers' jaw told him everything he needed to know.
"She'll roast you alive, man."
Scott only shook his head. "Not if she can't use her powers. Hand to hand."
"You really think she'll agree to those terms? And even if she did, I've been training her. She's getting damned good. I think she might be able to knock you on your ass," Logan shook his head. He didn't care much for the idea. Very few people could handle Dare's tempers and no one could survive her flames if she lost her head. He was lucky to come out of her misfires with his skin still intact.
"Let me worry about my own ass, Logan. She needs to do something before she breaks. Maybe taking it out on me will help. She doesn't like me much anyway."
Logan nodded. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, but he didn't have anything better. Perhaps a diversion was just what she needed. Scott turned and headed for the door. He was just passing through the portal when Logan's next word stopped him. "Why?"
"Because Remy is my teammate and friend, too. Because Dare is laying blame where it doesn't belong. Because she's a teammate and she's in pain. I want to help. Despite what the five of them think of me, I want to see them succeed. I want to see them grow to become the great team we all know they can be. But they can't do it if their powerhouse lets the guilt eat at her until it drives her insane." Scott shrugged as if it wasn't a hardship or a big deal. "She might hate Fitzroy more than she hates me, but she won't miss the opportunity to take her anger out on me. I'll go change and meet her in the Danger Room in ten minutes."
Logan watched him go, then shook his head and let go another chuckle. He didn't know which one of them was more pigheaded and stubborn. But he suspected he was about to find out. Still grinning, he flipped on the microphone. "Look alive, girl."
"Are you coming down here to kick my ass, old man?" she demanded, her voice a snarl of bitter emotions. Her gaze flashed up to one of the cameras and she took up an aggravated position. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her legs spread wide.
"There's been a change of plans, Dare. You're going to be sparring." He watched as she scowled up at him.
"There isn't anyone worth my time except for you. And if you're not sparring with me, it won't be a fair fight. I'll just fry whoever it is to within an inch of their life." Flames sprang to life and danced in a circle around her.
"No flames, Dare. Hand to hand. That's what sparring means," he replied. He watched as she considered it. Then she shook her head and made a motion with her hand.
"No fucking way. I'm not going to leave myself blind. Powers stay or I walk out of here right now." She meant it, too. And if she walked out, he had no doubt she'd let herself into Xavier's wine cellar. Or she'd slip off school grounds and go hit the bar. Damned if he could figure out where she kept her fake ID. Either way, the last thing he needed was for her to get blitzed out of her skull. She'd been doing so good about that.
"No powers or I'll put a bracelet on you myself, girl," he spat at her.
The flames came roaring to life in the blink of an eye. "Try it and see what happens, old man."
Before he could say anything else, the door to the Danger Room opened and Summers stepped in. Dare didn't hear him over the flames. Not that it mattered. A controlled optic blast knocked her off her feet and the flames almost immediately died out. She shot an indignant look at Summers before turning the same look Logan's way. Not that Logan was going to step into this. He knew that Scott wouldn't hurt her. The intensity of the blast he'd used had been pretty low.
"Hand to hand, Dare. You're not allowed to use your powers. Every time you do, I will knock you right on your ass. I can assure you that I'll last longer at this than you will. Maybe after a few days of getting your ass kicked, you'll start thinking instead of reacting." There was no give in Scott's voice. At least none that Logan figured Dare would hear. He could hear it, though. He only hoped the man's warped manner of helping didn't get him hurt. Jeannie'd never let him hear the end of it.
"Fuck you," she snarled. The flames popped up once more. And once more, Scott put her on her ass. She glanced up to the windows. "You gonna let him do this to me?"
"You keep trying to fry him? Yeah. I will. Hand to hand, Dare."
She grumbled but moved into the defensive position he'd taught her. All of her attention turned toward Summers, who was waiting for her first attack. "You both fucking suck," she snarled, then threw herself at her opponent. Scott threw her over his shoulder. She grumbled but got to her feet and went after him again.
Hell. Maybe this crazy idea would work after all. Just maybe...
~*~*~*~*~
They hadn't been to Kennewycke in nigh unto a month. Morgan had thought it a good idea to steer clear of port for a while since Samuel Lord seemed to be hot on Dare's heels. And with the provisions that Thor had provided them, they'd been able to remain asea for a whole fortnight before needing to dock again. Not much had changed and Haley was looking forward to spending some time in The Black Unicorn. No doubt Ophelia would be glad to see them.
She nodded to the big Russian as she passed through the doors, glad to see him still there. He offered her a faint smile but otherwise didn't move. Haley had barely found a seat at an empty table when Ophelia appeared at her side. "There's a gentleman upstairs who wishes to speak with you, Haley. He said it is important." There was a look on Ophelia's face that suggested she wasn't happy. Haley rose from her seat and started toward the stairs. Ophelia was at her elbow the whole way.
The two women walked up the stairs together, from one floor to the next, until they reached the floor where Ophelia's personal rooms were located. The woman knocked at the closed panel, then scurried off before anything else could happen. There was a terse command from the other side for her to enter, so Haley put her hand on the knob and opened the panel. She was startled to find that Lord Stark was waiting there for her. His blue eyes landed on her, then glanced past her, as if expecting someone else to be with her. A scowl slid across his face, then he motioned her into the room with one hand. "Enter, Miss Stone. Please. I have to speak with you."
She lifted a brow at his use of her family name, but stepped into the room and, without being told, pushed the door closed. Lord Stark moved to the side board, where a decanter of crystal held a rich, amber liquid. He poured a measure of that liquid into a pair of finely blown glass goblets. After replacing the goblets, he turned and offered her one. Haley took it and held it, not bothering to drink. Something told her that she'd need her wits. "What would you like to speak about, Lord Stark?" she asked softly.
He gave her a faint grin. "Please. You must call me Anthony. And I will call you Haley." She made a motion that might have been agreement, but she didn't like that he was trying to get personal with her. It didn't bode well. The grin melted into a charming smile. "I have a bit of a problem and I hope that you can help me with it, Haley."
"What kind of problem can I possibly help you with, Lord... Anthony?" she questioned. Warning bells were going off in her head like the tolling of the bells in a church's tower.
"Alasdare knows that she is to meet me here when your ship makes port in Kennewycke." One hand motioned to the room behind him. "As you can see, she isn't here. Naturally, I'm concerned. So I sent men to your ship to fetch her for me. They reported back and told me that she isn't aboard your sloop. Imagine how worried I am. Where is she, Haley? I simply must speak with her."
"I haven't the faintest idea where Dare could be, Lord Stark. And perhaps it would be prudent of me to let you know that she has absolutely no desire to see you. At all." Haley crossed to the nearest piece of furniture and set the goblet down very carefully.
He frowned at her. "Are you telling me that you won't help me?"
"Even if I knew where Dare had gotten to, I don't think I'd tell you where to find her. She doesn't wish to see you. And whether you choose to believe me or not, she is in a rather fragile state of mind right now. I think the worst thing for her would be to force her to speak to you. She'll come to you when she's ready. If she ever finds herself ready."
"Does she think this is some kind of game she can play?" The question was blurted out between clenched teeth. He took a step toward her. Haley stopped his move by casually dropping her hand to the hilt of her sword. "Does she not realize what is at stake here?"
"I think she knows very well what's at stake, Lord Stark. After all, you're the one who brought her the letter that commanded she turn us over," Haley informed him, not once looking away from his face. Which allowed her to see the faint look of surprise that crossed it before he schooled his expression into something empty. "If you will excuse me, my lord. I have other business to attend to this night."
She had her hand on the knob when he spoke again, halting her actions. "If you see her, Haley... She cannot hide from her responsibilities. Tell her she must come see me."
"I'm sure she'll find you in her own time, Lord Stark. I wouldn't dare presume to make her do something she didn't want to do." Her words saw him snarling in response. Then the suave exterior was once more in place. The smile he gave her was positively predatory.
"Shall I send Clinton to you, Miss Stone? I'm sure he's missed you and you no doubt would enjoy the bedsport. I believe he pleased you well enough during our sojourn on Thor's island."
"I'd hate to have to deprive you of one of your men because he asked too many questions between the sheets. And cutting out a tongue is just so messy." She leveled a look on him that spoke volumes. "Good evening, Lord Stark. I hope I never have to see you again." Haley ducked out of the room and pulled the door shut before he could say anything more.
Her feet were quick and light as she made her way down the stairs to the main floor of the establishment. Her mind was whirling with the conversation she'd just had. Stark had to be mad as a hatter if he thought that Dare would want anything to do with him now. No doubt she'd known he'd be in Kennewycke. That explained why she hadn't wanted to come ashore with Haley and the others. And if Stark's men hadn't found her on board the sloop, Dare had to have slipped off shortly after she and the others had left for the docks. Haley had no idea where the woman might have gotten to.
Not that it mattered. She'd told Stark the truth. Even if she had known where Dare had gone to, she surely wouldn't have told the other man such information.
The noise of the main room rode her nerves and made her long for the silence of the sea. Frowning, she realized that she couldn't stay. Her meeting with Lord Stark had ruined her evening and she didn't want the unpleasant crush of company. After nodding toward Morgan and Jehnna, who were huddled at a table together, she strode for the door and slipped out into the night air.
It was crisp and salty, blowing in off the docks to carry the smell of the ocean toward her. She could also smell a hint of rain on the air, as if a storm was coming their way. Maybe it would wash the filth from the streets of the small harbor port. The stench of flesh and offal filled her nose, making her wish she'd never left the ship. Too long at sea had left her senses tender to such things. She'd forgotten that towns people had a tendency to leave their piss and shit in the gutters. There were some things that she missed about living on land. That wasn't one of them.
Turning away from the doors of The Black Unicorn, Haley found herself moving further into town. They rarely went into the village proper, only once in a great while to secure provisions and new clothes. And even then, such tasks were often completed by the men who sailed under them. She found herself in a new world, with the darkness of the night only kept at bay by candles glowing behind window panes and flickering flames in the lamp posts that someone spent a great deal of time lighting.
The mouths of the alleys that ran between two houses or two businesses were like the giant, gaping maws of some hungry beasts trying to entice an unsuspecting victim or two into them. She dropped her hand casually to the hilt of her sword and left it there. Something about the night felt unsettled. Not right. She didn't know what it was but there was something... She felt as if she was being watched.
It had to be her imagination. Her meeting with Stark had left her unsettled. The man was arrogant and so self-assured that he'd been genuinely surprised that she hadn't turned Dare over to him and then stripped naked so that he could honor her with the pleasure of his sexual expertise. Even worse had been the implication that he would sent Clinton to her to ask more questions that she wouldn't answer. The man was a right bastard.
Unbidden, a memory of Clinton that last morning rose to taunt her. She could clearly see him, hand reaching for her as he asked her to stay. That was followed quickly with another memory, one involving another blonde. Would Jonathan have done that to her if she'd given him the chance? Would he have asked her to stay with him? Her heart clenched at the idea. Even if he had, she would have said no. She wouldn't have risked his life, wouldn't have endangered him by staying with him. With her Witchbreed powers, she hadn't dared risk it. For just a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would have been like, had she stayed and become his wife.
Those thoughts were beautiful, but she pushed them aside. No doubt he'd already found another bride and wed her by now. He might have spent a few days mourning her departure, but duty would have seen him picking someone else. Duty would have him married to some normal girl, who would give him fat babies with which to play. Babies he could be proud of being father to. That wasn't something she could have given him. Not after she'd seen what had happened to Harper. She'd known then...
Forcibly pushing aside thoughts of Jonathan, she let her mind turn back to Clinton. He knew of her Witchbreed powers. He'd seen them first hand. And he hadn't been repulsed. She'd been amazed, of course. She'd honestly expected him to call her witch to her face and then never look at her again. She'd apparently underestimated him badly. Could he live with her magic? Could he give her the life she'd never have with Jonathan? Would he even want to?
She thought she could settle down with Clinton. She could picture them in a small cottage somewhere that was green and grassy. She could see him working the land, shirt off and skin glistening with the sweat of hard labor. She could see children, with fiery golden hair and that knowing grin. She could see so much. If only he would accept her. If only...
Haley's thoughts swirled away in an instant, driven away by the sound of a foot stepping upon the cobbled stones behind her. She'd felt like someone was watching her. But it seemed that someone was following her. She smiled at that. Given her mood, she would welcome a good fight. And anyone who dared mess with her this night would no doubt end up meeting the end of her blade. Smiling to herself, she purposely cut into one of the shadowed alleys and carefully drew her sword so that she wouldn't make a sound. Then she stepped back into the shadows and waited.
She didn't have to wait long. A single figure stole into the alley behind her. Before he slipped into the shadows, she caught sight of the light from a nearby candle sliding over the oily length of a bared blade. She watched as the figure moved closer and closer, her blade held up against her chest in the shadows.
The man was creeping along, his footsteps slow and as silent as he could make them. The man was swathed in darkness, a cloak of black wrapped around his frame to hide him in the shadows. But Haley couldn't miss the gleam in his eyes. Or the shine of his sword. He'd thought that he could follow her into the alley and take her by surprise. He had another thing coming.
She waited until he'd stepped past her, then she flowed from her hiding place and tapped his shoulder with her sword. The man whirled in surprise, stared at her for a moment before brining his blade up and into play. She smiled at him and blocked his slashing blow with her own sword, then shoved him back to give herself room to fight. "You shouldn't be out alone on a night like this, witch!" the man hissed as he lifted his sword before him.
She frowned at that. She might have thought it was an odd choice of words, but the tone had been too deliberate for that. He'd called her witch because he knew. She hadn't planned on killing him before, just wounding him to teach him that he shouldn't assume all women were easy prey. But this changed things. He was going to have to die and, given her mood, she found she was just fine with that.
"And you think you're man enough to end me?" she asked, then laughed in his face. "I've survived worse than you."
The man said nothing, only grinned. His teeth shone white in the darkness. She found that odd. There was a rustle of sound behind her just as a voice from the other end of the alley called out her name. Then she was thrown forward as something slammed into her back and burning pain ripped up her side. She vaguely noted a figure flying past her toward the other attacker. Reaching back, she found the grip of the dagger that was embedded in her shoulder and tugged it free. The blade glistened wetly in the shadowy alley.
The ringing of metal on metal hit her ears only a moment before her opponent launched himself at her. She slashed at him with the knife, watching in surprise as he jumped back from her. Not such an odd move in itself, but the look on his face suggested that he wanted nothing to do with the blade she held in her hand. That there was something about the dagger that he needed to be careful of. Curious.
The man's sword came up and slashed at her, an attack aimed at taking her head off her shoulders. She caught his blade with her own and pressed forward, The tip of the dagger cut a thin line across the man's stomach before he once more leapt away from her. "I'm going to kill you, fool. Don't think I won't."
The man stared at her, then looked to the hand he'd pressed to his abdomen. His eyes went wide with shock and fear. "You've already done it, witch! I'm dead."
"For a dead man, you make far too much noise." Her sword rose. He never attempted to block it. Instead, he stared at her with those same wide, wild eyes. Watched as her sword swung back before arcing forward. Stared as the blade cleaved through his neck, tore flesh and muscle and hacked through bone. Stared sightlessly as his head tumbled to the dirty ground. His body followed only a few seconds later. She watched the man fall with a sense of satisfaction, then turned to seek out the man's accomplice.
The world swam and burning increased. She felt sweat bead up on her face while her skin went cold. She barely kept her hold on both her sword and the knife she'd pulled from her back. But it was so hard. Her back felt as if it was on fire and every single muscle in her body felt limp. Taking a step forward was the hardest thing she'd ever done. The first one barely counted as a full step. The second one was little more than her foot dragging across the alley floor. She didn't even get to make a third. Because all strength went out of her and she dropped to her knees with a sharp jolt.
At least, she thought it was sharp jolt. She felt it should have been. But she was curiously numb. The sound of her blade and the dagger hitting the ground was distant and tinny. There was a figure standing near the entrance of the alley, staring down at something near his feet. She tried to call out, but nothing came out of her throat.
It wasn't until she was falling forward that she thought she heard her name again. She tried to prepare herself for the impact, but it never came. There were strong hands that caught her and cradled her to a firm chest. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Clinton.
"Haley, can you hear me?" His voice was wrong. And there was something deep in it. Something she hadn't heard in years. Images swirled through her head like dead leaves rolling on a brisk autumn wind. Laughing eyes. Always laughing. She'd never known them to do anything but laugh.
Except for the day Harper had died. That had killed the laughter. Ended it. For a time. And later, there was that single night, the tenderness of his touch and the sweetness of his voice. It couldn't be. She had to be hallucinating, had to be seeing things.
"Damn it, Haley! Answer me!"
She blinked eyes that were blurry. Her vision was growing dim. No. Not Clinton. A sense of awe took her and she tried to lift a hand to his face. It wasn't Clinton. "Jonathan?" she whispered, voice hoarse and raw.
"Its me, Haley. Hang on, my love. Don't you dare leave me again."
She wanted to tell him she wouldn't, but the words didn't come. The darkness was there to eat her down before she even had a chance and she slipped away into peaceful oblivion with Jonathan's face following after her.
Chapter Thirteen: Ghosts of the Past
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. flagrant abuse of a Scots accent and loads of pirates. much badly mangled pirate speech
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. the Sues are the sole property of their originators, Ginevra, Dazzledfirestar, Nanaea, SilverFoxChan and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
The Flight of the Valkyrie - The Index
She glanced around the interior of the captain's cabin and took in the slight puzzlement that resided on everyone's face. Everyone's but Dare's, that was. Jehnna could only see a kind of hollow resignation that seemed very unlike the Scottish wench. Other than herself and Dare, Morgan, Haley, Rosemary and Remy occupied the cabin. Someone had brought in a bottle of rum and it was presently clutched tightly in Dare's pale hand.
"Ees someone going to tell us what zis is all about?" Morgan asked, sounding put out. Dare shot the woman a look that would have frozen the fires of Hell, then promptly took a swallow off the bottle. "You `ave something to say, Dare?"
The woman opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and scowled. Jehnna watched as Remy reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. His touch seemed to give the woman strength because she straightened in her chair and let her gaze land on each of them. "Thor's guest last night," she began. Out of the corner of her eye, she notice that Rosemary and Haley shifted. It was a minor thing, just a slight move that suggested they might know something.
"Samuel Lord. Brother to Robert Lord." Haley was the one who spoke, breaking the sudden silence that had fallen between them. Dare's head jerked in an affirmative before she lifted the bottle of rum to her lips again.
"He came looking for Robert's murderer." Rosemary added. Jehnna watched as Dare tightened her grip on the bottle until it appeared she would shatter the glass. Remy reached down and gently pried the bottle from her hold. The hand on her shoulder squeezed lightly, as if to say that he was at her back. The look on her face suggested that she wanted nothing more than to run screaming from the room. that whatever reason she'd had for calling them there was more frightening to her than one of the Queen's frigates with every gun pointed at their little sloop. "Dare, you can tell us. No one here will judge you."
The Scots wench lifted her head and pinned a disbelieving stare on the other woman, then she heaved a sigh and raked her hands through her hair. "Some years ago, before I met the lot o' ye, I served on another pirate ship. The Black Death was..."
"You pirated on zat ship?" Morgan asked, eyes wide. Dare nodded again, her hands flexing in her lap. No doubt she wished she still had the bottle of rum to keep her company, but Remy held on to it tightly. "Captain Wilson was rumored to be ze most dangerous pirate on ze seven seas."
"He was a bastard and more. Dinnae ever think anathing else." Dare let her gaze slide from one face to the next so that they saw the darkness lurking in her eyes. She'd always been more blood thirsty than the others. That was something that Jehnna had known from the first moment she'd met the other woman. But seeing that look in her eyes... It was almost enough to scare Jehnna because there was absolutely nothing in them. Just a deep, black nothing that threatened to pull them all in. "But his luck ran out. We found ourselves surrounded by six frigates. Anaone who didnae die in the battle was locked away in the brig and returned tae Her Majesty's prison tae await trial."
There was a sneer given to the last part of the sentence that spoke very plainly about how she felt about the Queen. Rosemary spoke this time. "I remember that. The news was so great that it was all my father could speak of for days. He was almost giddy with the news that the crew had been put to death for their crimes. Wilson made a habit of terrorizing any ship he came across. Many of my father's shipments fell prey to the man."
Dare grimaced at the news and opened her mouth, perhaps to apologize to Rosemary, but the other woman waved a hand at her. So Dare sighed and fell silent, obviously searching for the right words. It seemed none were forthcoming because she said nothing immediately. "How is it the rest of the crew is dead and you are not?" Haley asked. Jehnna didn't think that it was an idle question. There had to be some great deal of importance to the woman's answer.
The Scots wench shrugged Remy's hand off and rose to her feet, then stalked across the cabin to stare out the squares of glass that created the ship's grand windows toward the open sea. "I made a deal." There was a heavy blanket of self-loathing in the woman's words.
"Dare..." Remy rose and turned to her, but she shook her head even though she hadn't looked away from the glass. He stopped and simply watched her, obviously torn between going to her and allowing her the space she so desperately wanted.
"I was a coward. I was young. I didnae want tae die. Sae I made a deal."
"You were scared and you did what you had to in order to survive," Jehnna said. Dare shrugged one shoulder, as if it didn't matter one way or the other. But she seemed reluctant to say more. The stiffness of her posture all but screamed that she wasn't going to finish. Jehnna decided to prod her on. "What deal could you make that was so terrible?"
"The bitch on the throne sent her dogs tae yap at my heels. I was given a choice. I could go tae my death, a traitor tae the crown. Or I could agree tae do as she bade me and keep my head on my shoulders. I agreed tae do as she bade me. Anathing seemed better than a date with the executioner's axe." A few hairs floated around the woman's head, a sure sign that her temper was building. That she'd set nothing on fire yet was amazing. "Death would have given me freedom. No' this half life I live now."
"What did she ask of you, Dare?" Haley asked gently.
"No' did. Does. What does she ask o' me." Dare snorted and turned further away from them. Her voice was almost too soft to hear when she spoke again. "Whatever she likes. And all the targets she names are Witchbreed."
"Zis is all interesting, Dare. But what does it `ave to do with Robert Lord and `is brother?" Morgan asked. Jehnna wanted to know that, too. Especially when she saw Haley and Rosemary share a look with one another.
"One of my early assignments was tae win Robert Lord's favor," she said softly, a world of emotion simmering in her voice. She paused briefly. When her next words came, they were bitter and filled with hate. "And then tae kill him."
"Dare..." Remy began. Something in his voice caught the woman's attention and she turned to look at him. There were tears in her eyes. Real tears. "You loved him." It wasn't a question. How he knew, Jehnna didn't know. He just did. And Dare just nodded her head even though everyone knew it wasn't a question. "Why, Dare? Why you do it?"
"Because they ordered me tae do it." There was more hate with those words and Jehnna realized that the hate was directed back toward Dare, that she hated herself for what she'd done. Jehnna stared, unable to fully comprehend what she was hearing. She'd known that Dare was a killer. They all were. But to have killed someone she professed to love? Because she'd been ordered to do it? How could Dare have done that?
"How, Dare? How did this happen? How would you have even met someone like Robert Lord?" Haley questioned softly.
"Laird Stark." The Scots wench spit the words out like they left a bitter taste in her mouth. "`Tis nay coincidence that he just happens tae find me when we dock in Kennewycke. `Tis how he delivers my orders. Letters. Letters with names and places."
"It is because of him that you met Robert Lord?" Rosemary asked, though it was obvious that Stark was the answer to everything.
"Aye. He took me tae a party," she told them, a snort ending the sentence. Obviously it had been the kind of party that Dare would never have gone to if not for Stark and her deal. For just a moment, Jehnna tried to imagine Dare dressed up in the garb of a courtier, of some lady fair. She simply couldn't. It was a side of the other woman she didn't think had ever existed. "I met Robert there. I was supposed tae use my feminine wiles on him. But he saw through it all."
Haley laughed at that. "That doesn't surprise me, Dare. Your feminine wiles have been shoved into the shadows by your pirating ways." Dare shot her a glare that did nothing to dim the redhead's mirth. While her smile didn't die, Haley made an attempt to be more serious. "Forgive me. Please. Continue your tale."
"Robert tauld me I was a kindred spirit. He'd lost his wife and that led him tae do whatever he liked. He didnae care what his peers thought of him. We shared that attitude. I cared naught for those traits that the nobility shunned. And he didnae care that I was naught more than a Scots barbarian wench. I spent much of my time with him. And I came tae love him." She stopped and fell silent again. Jehnna wondered for a while if they would have to prompt her. Dare turned back to the glass and stared at the vast stretch of water behind them. "I didnae want tae kill him. But if I hadnae done it..."
"You would have found yourself back on the executioner's block," Rosemary said when it became obvious the other woman wouldn't finish the thought. Dare nodded. "Dare, you..."
"I tauld ye I was a coward. I shouldnae have done it. I should have let him live. I should have let them take my head. I should have..." The words trailed off into silence. Jehnna could no longer see Dare's face. She'd allowed her hair to fall down and obscure everyone's view. Whether the woman had done it for privacy or because she'd thought she would face harsh judgement, Jehnna couldn't say. But it was obvious that this had been eating at her for a very long time.
After several long moments of silence, moments in which the tension grew until it felt as if the entire cabin would explode, Remy rose from his seat by the table and carefully made his way to where Dare stood. He stood behind her for a few seconds, one hand hovering in the air just over her shoulder as if he was afraid to touch her. Then the hand closed the distance and curled over her shoulder. Dare didn't react to the touch at all. "Dis Robert Lord, he look like me, hmmm?" he asked her. His voice was so soft, a whisper would have been louder. But no one was making and sounds, so it was easy to hear him.
Seconds ticked by as Remy waited for his answer. When it became obvious that none would be forthcoming, Haley was the one that broke the silence. "You could be his twin or a mirror image, Remy. You've the exact same appearance as Robert Lord."
The man turned his demon stare toward the redhead and studied her for a long time. When he spoke again, he directed his question her way. But his hand never shifted away from Dare. "And what kind of man was he? He de kind of man who hide behind a woman? Or he de kind of man who stand up for himself?"
Jehnna watched as the two of them studied one another. Haley looked slightly confused by the questions at first, but then her face cleared and a faint smile tugged up the corners of her mouth. "While I never met Robert Lord myself, the man was reputed to have been deeply in love with his wife. When she died, it killed something inside of him. He never settled with one woman again, that anyone knew of. But I know of more than one occasion where Robert dueled to save the reputation of a lady who had been accused of infidelity by her husband. Usually with Lord, mind you. But he always won and preserved the lady's honor. By all accounts, Robert Lord was an honorable man."
"If dis all true, Dare, you t'ink dat Robert would have wanted you to give up you life for him?" Remy asked her softly. She didn't move, but his hand slid higher up her shoulder until he could brush her hair away from her face. Dare glanced up at him, her head barely turning away from the glass. Barely, but far enough that they could all see the tears that trickled silently down her cheeks. "If it come down to it, you t'ink I want you to give up you life for me? You do what you have to. No one gon' blame you for dat."
"Mayhap not," she whispered hoarsely before pulling away from his touch. Anger made her steps brisk and sharp as she returned to the table. The bottle of rum was clasped tightly in her hand when she turned to face them all again. "But do ye believe they'll no' blame me when I tell them that I've been ordered to turn them in tae the redheaded bitch? Because I have. I've been ordered to turn in the crew of The Valkyrie."
The five of them were left stunned by her announcement, allowing Dare to escape the cabin with the rum in hand. Mother of God! What would happen to them? Jehnna let her gaze skim to the other faces and saw the same question burning in the other women's eyes. Would Dare turn on them, too? Would she give them up to save her own life? Or would she do whatever she could to save them, even if that meant once more facing the executioner's axe?
~*~*~*~*~
Remy stood at the rail, staring out over the ocean as the sun slowly sank down below the edge of the world. The surface of the water was calm, painted in shades of blue, red, orange, yellow and, in the far off distance, black. The fresh, salty air caressed his face and carded invisible fingers through his hair. The night felt as if it would be cool, the breeze blowing slightly chill against his skin. No one had bothered him all day as he'd gone though the chores that Dare had taught him. For a time, the assigned tasks had been a welcome solace. Concentrating on each job kept his mind from lingering on the information he'd been given earlier. Kept him from thinking about the mess his life had become.
But now, in the face of the setting sun, with all of his duties completed and gone, there was nothing to keep him from giving in to the tumultuous thoughts that crashed through his mind. Images of Dare with a man who looked like him. Images of them clasped together in a passionate embrace. Images of her face, wet with tears, as she'd carried out her assignment and ended Robert Lord's life.
He couldn't really wrap his mind around that bit of news.
It shouldn't bother him as much as it did. He knew that Dare was a pirate, that all of the women he'd known in his present were pirates here in the past. Scourges of the sea. Deadly and dangerous in their chosen lives as pirates and even more so because they were women in a man's world. It was brutal truth and practicality that saw them taking men's lives. He knew, from an intellectual stand point, that killing was how they all survived. And the world they lived in was one where it was kill or be killed. Some part of him understood that. Some where deep inside, he knew that she would do what she had to in order to survive.
But another part of him, a part less rational and more emotional, was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that Dare had killed someone. The Dare in the future, the Dare he knew who had so briefly belonged to him, would never have done something like that. He'd felt her emotions often enough to know that she abhorred killing. Not that she hadn't done it. She had. When she'd been backed into a corner, she'd let the flames loose and allowed them to do as they wanted. It was something she'd never really been aware of doing until after the deed had been done. But he knew it was something she despised doing. Something she'd never forgiven herself for.
If he was to remain stuck in this time, how could he reconcile the Dare he'd known in his present with the Dare here in the past? This Dare seemed almost blood thirsty compared to the other Dare. This version of her had taken lives to save her own. Present day Dare, Morgan's best friend, would never make such a decision. She'd always do what was right. She was a hero. She'd willingly sacrifice herself for someone she loved if it would save their life. That Dare was selfless. This Dare... She was not.
He sighed and shook his head. Was it really fair of him to judge the past version of Dare with the present one? Two different times. Two different worlds. Two different people. Two entirely different sets of rules and circumstances. Rules and circumstances that didn't mesh with one another. But what about one of the most basic rules in human history? Thou shalt not kill. It was one of the ten commandments. One of the laws set down by God to guide and govern his people. Remy might be a lapsed Catholic, but that was one lesson he remembered well from his youth. And in this time, people were supposed to have been religious. Did these women not believe in God's laws? Did they not believe in God?
Remy was willing to admit that he wasn't the best Catholic in the world. Hell, he wasn't even the best Christian in the world. But growing up in New Orleans, growing up in the French Quarter, religion had been a part of his life. He'd spent enough time in church as a child and religion had played some role in his formative years. Perhaps he wasn't as religious as some, but he knew who God was and he knew that there were some things the big man took a very dim view on. Murder was one of those things.
That left him wondering why, in a world that relied so heavily on religion and the church, Dare would forsake her immortal soul in favor of ending someone else's life. Did she not feel her soul was worth salvation? Or was it something worse? Did the woman believe she was already damned to Hell? He'd seen enough to know that this time took a very dim view on people like her. Like himself. Mutants. Witchbreed. He had no doubts that the church taught them that such people were evil. That they belonged to the Devil and that they would burn in Hell for all eternity. Had Dare decided to do as she would since her fate had already been decided for her?
"She's a good person, no matter what you may think of her." The voice startled him from his thoughts. It was rare that anyone snuck up on him, his empathy allowing him the opportunity to sense someone by their emotions long before they closed in on him, so it was surprising that Rosemary was just suddenly standing at his elbow. Remy blinked at her before realizing what it was she'd said.
"I know she a good person," he told her, watching the way the remnants of the sun burnished her skin with dusky gold hues.
She said nothing to that, simply stared at him for a few seconds. Her smile, when it came, was secretive and knowing. "I know you believe that of the other Dare. But you find it difficult to believe that of this Dare." There was such certainty in her voice that he couldn't stop the shocked, surprised look that crept across his face. "I have seen distant places filled with tall buildings of glass, and sleek carriages that roll on even black surfaces that have no horses to pull them, and of people like us. Only they use their Witchbreed powers in open view of one and all. I know that this is the place you call home, Remy. And I know that you've met us before coming to this place."
"How you know dat?" he asked calmly.
"I see things in my dreams. Often times, they come true. I have seen your life and I know that this place distresses you. I know that you remain with us because we are familiar in face if not in actions."
He'd never considered telling anyone that he came from a different time. He was sure that no one would believe him. But here was Rosemary, very calmly stating that she knew he came from an entirely different world. He wondered for a moment if she was mocking him, but she radiated nothing but sincerity. "I'm havin' a hard time wit' de differences."
"You think that because this Dare kills so easily that she is less than the one you know?" Rosemary asked softly.
"De Dare I know... She don' kill people. She a hero. She help people. She save dem. She don' kill dem to save herself." He turned to stare at Rosemary and let her see the confusion that plagued him. She offered him a faint smile and motioned out toward the ocean.
"What do you see when you look at the water?" she asked him. He frowned at the seeming abrupt and odd change of subject, but he turned his gaze toward the water and stared.
"It calm. Flat. Serene. Beautiful."
"Yes," Rosemary nodded, then lifted her finger. "But that beautiful serenity hides danger in its depths, does it not?"
Remy thought back to the storm that had nearly destroyed the sloop. That had nearly cost Dare her life. He nodded but said nothing. He was sure that Rosemary had a point to make, he just couldn't see what it was. Not yet.
"Would it not be fair to say that when there is danger on the outside, there is beautiful serenity on the inside?"she asked lightly. He said nothing, but he nodded his head. Hadn't he seen that for himself with the Dare from his present? Hadn't he seen her soften and become someone else with Morgan? With Logan? Even with himself? Hadn't he seen her help one of the younger students in a snowball fight just this past Christmas? She'd teamed up with the boy when no one else wanted to have him on their team. And together, the two of them had won that snowball fight. It had been the first time that boy had smiled since his parents had dropped him at the school. And it had been one of the few times Dare's rich laughter had echoed around the mansion's grounds so freely.
"I have seen Dare caught in the grips of her blood lust. I've seen her cut down her foes with nary a concern for herself. And I've seen her go to the aide of a woman and her small children for no reason other than some man was attempting to hurt them." Rosemary turned to look at him. "We happened across another pirate ship as it attacked a vessel that carried passengers. The cries of the women and children who were on board carried to us across the waters. And Dare ordered us to their side so that we could offer them our help."
"But Dare not de captain," he pointed out.
"She is not. But the crew knows better than to argue if one of us is to issue a command." Rosemary paused. The look in her eyes suggested she was recalling the memory she'd been talking about. "The men of that pirate ship would have raped the woman, possibly the girls, too. And Dare was having none of it. She charged into battle, heedless of the danger to herself, to save those innocents. The slaughter she unleashed that day served as a warning to other pirates who might have thought to do the same thing. There are good reasons as to why those who travel the open seas are frightened of us."
"But she kill someone she love," he pointed out.
"How old do you think she is?" Rosemary asked. Remy could only stare at her. He didn't know what this had to do with anything. And it wasn't something he'd ever considered. He supposed that she was an adult, but the concept of adulthood was much different here than in his time. Without speaking, Remy just shrugged a shoulder. "She has barely reached her twenty fourth year. She has been on the sea since her thirteenth summer. Imagine facing your death before really finding the chance to live your life. Had she been older, mayhap she would have made a different choice. But she wasn't. And she truly regrets her actions."
He knew that well enough. He'd felt the regret and the guilt on her for some time. It had been stronger last night after she'd seen Samuel Lord, after she'd spoken to Stark. And she'd practically been drowning in it when she'd told her tale this morning. This had obviously been bothering her for some time. He hadn't been privy to everything that had gone between her and Stark last night, but whatever it was, it had to have been what decided her to finally come clean. "I don' know, Rosemary."
"You should give her the benefit of the doubt, Remy."
"She kill a man she say she loves." He was sure the look on his face suggested that he couldn't get past that action.
"Have you never done anything you've regretted?" she asked him. There was nothing in her voice, no curiosity or judgement or dismay. It was merely a question to her. "If not, then you are a better human than any of us here. But if you stay here with us, you will eventually be forced to take a life. And at the moment when you do, I want you to think upon our conversation. Dare will never admit such to you, but she needs your shoulder to lean on while she tries to forgive herself for this. It will be easier for her to do so if you forgive her first."
He didn't think it would be that simple. For either of them. She was in love with a dead man. Not him. At least, he didn't think she was in love with him. He'd gotten a sense of love off of her, but he couldn't be sure that it wasn't love for Robert. Could it possibly be love for him? Or did she see a dead man when she looked at him? Even though he knew that he'd never love her the way she wanted or deserved, he did care about her. And he didn't want to be a replacement for a corpse.
Rosemary said nothing to him while he gave consideration to her words. She simply stood at his side and watched the ocean pass and the last of the sun as it finished sinking under the horizon. He had no idea if he'd ever make it back to his own time. If he didn't, if he was stuck here in this time, he knew he needed her. Someone. He couldn't survive in this time without a guide. And Dare had already appointed herself that guide. Whether he liked it or not, he needed to speak with her. He needed to make this thing right. He needed her.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Remy turned to Rosemary and offered her a faint smile. "Where she at?"
"She is back in the cabin. She is alone." Rosemary assured him. He nodded at her, then pulled away from the rail and headed toward the cabin. He was more than aware of several sets of eyes locked onto his back as he went. A heavy curtain of tension followed him. He felt a sense of relief flood through him when he was hidden from view and he paused long enough to knock on the door. There was no answer, but he knew she was in there. He could feel the roiling tumult of her emotions through the wooden panel.
Another sigh escaped him. This was not going to be easy. Grasping the knob, he opened the door. Dare was once again standing by the wall of windows, forehead pressed to one pane as she stared out into the growing gloom. She didn't look up at him at all. Remy stood in the open doorway for several long seconds, then took a step inside. The door closed quietly behind him.
Here went a whole lot of nothing...
~*~*~*~*~
Logan watched the five figures move through the obstacle course he'd programmed in for them, his scowl so frightening that he was sure the younger students would piss themselves if they saw him. Truth be told, he thought the five of them might piss themselves if they saw it. As the days passed, it became more and more obvious that the girls were losing their edge. He'd watched Morgan pull further into herself with each hour that slipped by. And Dare... Her guilt was so thick and deep that the hard won control he'd helped her find was practically gone. As if she knew what he was thinking, a curtain of fire shot up the walls and nearly scorched her teammates. His finger stabbed at the intercom button with a growl. "Damn it, Dare! Get yer head in the game. Focus!"
The look she shot him was easy to read, even across the distance between them. Nothing he was doing seemed to be keeping her from exploding. And every day, it was only getting worse. Haley's voice floated up to him, and she sounded faintly worried. "We just need a short break, Logan. Then..."
"Run it again. Now!" he ordered tersely and restarted the program. There was a group groan before the five of them flew into action one more time.
Things were getting way too out of hand. Not just with Dare and Morgan, who barely spoke to one another anymore, but with all of them. Losing Gumbo was affecting all of them. Not that it was as easy to see with the others as it was with Dare and Morgan, but he'd trained them long enough to know it just by looking at them. Haley, always a strong leader, was beginning to doubt her skills. There were times, like just a few moments ago, when she seemed to forget that she'd been born to run a team and she ended up second guessing everything. Those were the occasions when it became obvious that she was afraid she was losing her team and, even worse, she didn't know how to stop it from happening. She didn't know how to save them.
Roxxy, always the quiet and analytical one of the group, had grown restless and uneasy. He saw it in both of her forms. When she was human, hands that were usually steady and sure in their work often times shook for no apparent reason. And there was a look lurking in the depths of those golden eyes, the ones that said a predator was hidden just under the surface, waiting to break free. When she was the cat, her tail swished aggressively and hunger shone in her eyes. He didn't think it would take much to set her off. If something triggered her more animalistic reactions, he was sure they'd find out just how wild Catseye could become.
And then was Jehnna. She'd always been the shyest of the group. The quietest and most reserved. But her worry was leaking out in the form of subharmonics, minute vibrations that only he, Roxxy and Hank would be able to pick up. There was no doubt that she was worried about her team and her friends.
If something didn't happen soon, if they didn't find the Cajun, things would fall apart in a spectacular way.
There was a second flare of flames that rose up to obscure the windows and the cameras for just a moment. Logan's sharp hearing caught the faint cry of an animal in pain. His temper broke with the sound, one hand crushing the button that would terminate the program. The other hand hit the sprinklers, sending water cascading down on the five women. "That's enough! Catseye, get down to the infirmary and have Hank check ya out! Morgan, Haley and Jehnna, I want all of you to hit the showers. Dare, you better park yer ass right there and wait for me. We're gonna have a talk, girl."
He watched through the windows as the five of them looked at each other. It took a few moments, but they started moving. Roxxy had shifted back into human form and had no doubt lost the burns Dare's careless flames had left on her, but he wanted Hank to check her out all the same. She was out the door first, followed by Jehnna and Haley. Morgan stood there and stared at Dare, who was staring at the ground with her hands balled into fists, then finally shook her head and turned to walk out the door. Only when Dare was alone did he take his eyes off the windows and actually start breathing again.
"Now ain't the time to start, Slim," he growled without turning away from the control panel.
"I'm not here to start anything, Logan. I came to check on them." Summers' voice didn't hold any of its usual arrogance, just a weary sense of exhaustion that suggested he'd been spending too damned many late nights trying to figure out a way to bring Gambit home. Logan turned to eye him, surprised to see the faint hints of worry and fear etched into the lines at the corners of his mouth. No doubt some of those same lines had taken up residence around his eyes.
Logan snorted and shook his head, fingers moving absently over the keyboard to ready a new program. "They're falling apart. Nothing I do makes a god damned bit of difference, either. Never thought I'd see them sidelined like this. Not after they worked so hard to earn the right to be an official team."
Scott moved further into the room to stare at the monitors. They all showed Dare just standing there, hands fisted while her hair floated around her head like she was caught in a gale force wind. "She blames herself for all of it, doesn't she?"
"She's damned good at blaming herself," Logan replied, one hand scrubbing at his face absently. "Doesn't matter to her that it ain't her fault. She won't listen to me. And I don't know how the hell to help her."
"I'm sure that the professor would be willing to do something to help," Summers suggested. "And if not him, then you could always ask Jean."
"She ain't going to let anyone go fucking around in her head. You know that." Logan gave a snort of disgust and shook his head. The look he sent the other man was as unfriendly as they got. "Looks like yer gonna get yer wish after all. Purple team is goin' down in flames and you don't have to worry about them again."
The man clenched his jaw while one hand raked almost violently through his hair. They stared at one another for a good long time before Scott shook his head and stared down at the monitors. Dare was wiggling her fingers in the air, making ropes of flame twitch and dance. And her mouth was moving silently. Not that Logan needed to hear what she was saying. He'd heard it all before. Every single threat and promise Dare had made to Fitzroy. Some of the things she planned on doing to him scared the living hell out of Logan. He'd never realized before that the fire bug had such an evil streak in her. Part of him was afraid that she was sliding into madness and there was nothing he could do to help her.
"The bet was stupid. I never should have... Damn it, Logan. You can't tell me that you don't worry what will happen to them when they go out on missions. They're young and they've barely got any practical experience."
"`Course it scares me." Logan grunted his reply out, his eyes locked on Scott's even though he couldn't see them through the ruby lenses of his glasses. "You think I want to see any of `em get hurt? But they're strong and they're capable. We can't protect `em forever." He left off the fact that he knew he couldn't protect Dare forever.
"And does that make it easier to watch them go off on a mission?" The question came as a surprise, Scott's voice soft and lacking its usual heat of anger or arrogance. The man moved to lean up against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. "All the training in the world doesn't matter if they come up against someone better than they are. And they will. You know it happens to all of us sooner or later. What happens when one of them doesn't come home?"
The words sizzled through his brain like lightning. For just an instant, his heart and brain seized as he imagined just that. How it would affect the rest of the team if one of their own didn't make it home. How it would affect him if... He couldn't even let himself think that. Frowning, he glanced up at Scott. "I don't see how any of that matters to you, Slim. I seem to recall you don't care for the Purple team much."
Summers' jaw tightened with his anger. But he didn't let it explode from him when he spoke, kept it tightly leashed and tucked away. "I don't care for the idea of a bunch of young girls going out to face all the world's evils on their own. In fact, I don't care for the idea of a bunch of young kids, male or female, going out to face all the world's evils on their own. It isn't the team I object to. Its the fact that they're willingly giving up their youth to fight a fight that we both know will make them old before their time. Is that what you want for them?"
"No. But it ain't my choice. And it ain't yers, either."
"That doesn't make it any easier for me to let them go. And not just Purple team. Any of the teams. If something happens to them, its ultimately my responsibility." There was a tone to his voice that Logan couldn't recall ever hearing in it before. Fear and regret. Scott was the leader of the X-Men. All the teams. And he took his role seriously. Apparently far more seriously than he'd ever let on. Logan studied him carefully, taking in the stance, with its forced relaxation, and the way his lips were pressed thin.
Summers had always been the backbone of the X-Men, had always been the one in control. Logan had never wanted such a responsibility because he'd never known from one day to the next if he'd stay. Scott had shouldered that responsibility without complaint. Without any indication that it was something he'd rather not have done. Logan had always assumed the man's arrogance and his dickhead nature had come from being the leader. But now, he wasn't so sure. He was starting to think that the arrogance and the stick up his ass came from the amount of care and concern that he had for the teams. From his desire to keep them all safe. From his inability to truly do so.
Staring at him, Logan wished, and not for the first time, that he could see the look in the other man's eyes. It was so much easier to read someone when you could see the expression in their eyes. Oh, he'd gotten good at reading minute changes in Scott's facial muscles. But that would never be as good as staring the man in the eyes. Logan muttered a curse under his breath and turned back to the monitors. Dare had graduated from ropes of flame to figures that bore eerie resemblance to Fitzroy. And the things she was doing... "I don't know what to do about her, Slim. I think she's losing her mind. Nothing seems to vent the growing rage."
Scott was silent for a few moments, then leaned over to settle his hand on Logan's shoulder. "Let her take it out on someone she can't stand."
Logan chuckled at that. "In case ya ain't noticed, Slim, she don't like many people."
"I actually had someone in mind," Scott replied. There was something in his voice that made Logan glance up at him. The determined curve of Summers' jaw told him everything he needed to know.
"She'll roast you alive, man."
Scott only shook his head. "Not if she can't use her powers. Hand to hand."
"You really think she'll agree to those terms? And even if she did, I've been training her. She's getting damned good. I think she might be able to knock you on your ass," Logan shook his head. He didn't care much for the idea. Very few people could handle Dare's tempers and no one could survive her flames if she lost her head. He was lucky to come out of her misfires with his skin still intact.
"Let me worry about my own ass, Logan. She needs to do something before she breaks. Maybe taking it out on me will help. She doesn't like me much anyway."
Logan nodded. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, but he didn't have anything better. Perhaps a diversion was just what she needed. Scott turned and headed for the door. He was just passing through the portal when Logan's next word stopped him. "Why?"
"Because Remy is my teammate and friend, too. Because Dare is laying blame where it doesn't belong. Because she's a teammate and she's in pain. I want to help. Despite what the five of them think of me, I want to see them succeed. I want to see them grow to become the great team we all know they can be. But they can't do it if their powerhouse lets the guilt eat at her until it drives her insane." Scott shrugged as if it wasn't a hardship or a big deal. "She might hate Fitzroy more than she hates me, but she won't miss the opportunity to take her anger out on me. I'll go change and meet her in the Danger Room in ten minutes."
Logan watched him go, then shook his head and let go another chuckle. He didn't know which one of them was more pigheaded and stubborn. But he suspected he was about to find out. Still grinning, he flipped on the microphone. "Look alive, girl."
"Are you coming down here to kick my ass, old man?" she demanded, her voice a snarl of bitter emotions. Her gaze flashed up to one of the cameras and she took up an aggravated position. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her legs spread wide.
"There's been a change of plans, Dare. You're going to be sparring." He watched as she scowled up at him.
"There isn't anyone worth my time except for you. And if you're not sparring with me, it won't be a fair fight. I'll just fry whoever it is to within an inch of their life." Flames sprang to life and danced in a circle around her.
"No flames, Dare. Hand to hand. That's what sparring means," he replied. He watched as she considered it. Then she shook her head and made a motion with her hand.
"No fucking way. I'm not going to leave myself blind. Powers stay or I walk out of here right now." She meant it, too. And if she walked out, he had no doubt she'd let herself into Xavier's wine cellar. Or she'd slip off school grounds and go hit the bar. Damned if he could figure out where she kept her fake ID. Either way, the last thing he needed was for her to get blitzed out of her skull. She'd been doing so good about that.
"No powers or I'll put a bracelet on you myself, girl," he spat at her.
The flames came roaring to life in the blink of an eye. "Try it and see what happens, old man."
Before he could say anything else, the door to the Danger Room opened and Summers stepped in. Dare didn't hear him over the flames. Not that it mattered. A controlled optic blast knocked her off her feet and the flames almost immediately died out. She shot an indignant look at Summers before turning the same look Logan's way. Not that Logan was going to step into this. He knew that Scott wouldn't hurt her. The intensity of the blast he'd used had been pretty low.
"Hand to hand, Dare. You're not allowed to use your powers. Every time you do, I will knock you right on your ass. I can assure you that I'll last longer at this than you will. Maybe after a few days of getting your ass kicked, you'll start thinking instead of reacting." There was no give in Scott's voice. At least none that Logan figured Dare would hear. He could hear it, though. He only hoped the man's warped manner of helping didn't get him hurt. Jeannie'd never let him hear the end of it.
"Fuck you," she snarled. The flames popped up once more. And once more, Scott put her on her ass. She glanced up to the windows. "You gonna let him do this to me?"
"You keep trying to fry him? Yeah. I will. Hand to hand, Dare."
She grumbled but moved into the defensive position he'd taught her. All of her attention turned toward Summers, who was waiting for her first attack. "You both fucking suck," she snarled, then threw herself at her opponent. Scott threw her over his shoulder. She grumbled but got to her feet and went after him again.
Hell. Maybe this crazy idea would work after all. Just maybe...
~*~*~*~*~
They hadn't been to Kennewycke in nigh unto a month. Morgan had thought it a good idea to steer clear of port for a while since Samuel Lord seemed to be hot on Dare's heels. And with the provisions that Thor had provided them, they'd been able to remain asea for a whole fortnight before needing to dock again. Not much had changed and Haley was looking forward to spending some time in The Black Unicorn. No doubt Ophelia would be glad to see them.
She nodded to the big Russian as she passed through the doors, glad to see him still there. He offered her a faint smile but otherwise didn't move. Haley had barely found a seat at an empty table when Ophelia appeared at her side. "There's a gentleman upstairs who wishes to speak with you, Haley. He said it is important." There was a look on Ophelia's face that suggested she wasn't happy. Haley rose from her seat and started toward the stairs. Ophelia was at her elbow the whole way.
The two women walked up the stairs together, from one floor to the next, until they reached the floor where Ophelia's personal rooms were located. The woman knocked at the closed panel, then scurried off before anything else could happen. There was a terse command from the other side for her to enter, so Haley put her hand on the knob and opened the panel. She was startled to find that Lord Stark was waiting there for her. His blue eyes landed on her, then glanced past her, as if expecting someone else to be with her. A scowl slid across his face, then he motioned her into the room with one hand. "Enter, Miss Stone. Please. I have to speak with you."
She lifted a brow at his use of her family name, but stepped into the room and, without being told, pushed the door closed. Lord Stark moved to the side board, where a decanter of crystal held a rich, amber liquid. He poured a measure of that liquid into a pair of finely blown glass goblets. After replacing the goblets, he turned and offered her one. Haley took it and held it, not bothering to drink. Something told her that she'd need her wits. "What would you like to speak about, Lord Stark?" she asked softly.
He gave her a faint grin. "Please. You must call me Anthony. And I will call you Haley." She made a motion that might have been agreement, but she didn't like that he was trying to get personal with her. It didn't bode well. The grin melted into a charming smile. "I have a bit of a problem and I hope that you can help me with it, Haley."
"What kind of problem can I possibly help you with, Lord... Anthony?" she questioned. Warning bells were going off in her head like the tolling of the bells in a church's tower.
"Alasdare knows that she is to meet me here when your ship makes port in Kennewycke." One hand motioned to the room behind him. "As you can see, she isn't here. Naturally, I'm concerned. So I sent men to your ship to fetch her for me. They reported back and told me that she isn't aboard your sloop. Imagine how worried I am. Where is she, Haley? I simply must speak with her."
"I haven't the faintest idea where Dare could be, Lord Stark. And perhaps it would be prudent of me to let you know that she has absolutely no desire to see you. At all." Haley crossed to the nearest piece of furniture and set the goblet down very carefully.
He frowned at her. "Are you telling me that you won't help me?"
"Even if I knew where Dare had gotten to, I don't think I'd tell you where to find her. She doesn't wish to see you. And whether you choose to believe me or not, she is in a rather fragile state of mind right now. I think the worst thing for her would be to force her to speak to you. She'll come to you when she's ready. If she ever finds herself ready."
"Does she think this is some kind of game she can play?" The question was blurted out between clenched teeth. He took a step toward her. Haley stopped his move by casually dropping her hand to the hilt of her sword. "Does she not realize what is at stake here?"
"I think she knows very well what's at stake, Lord Stark. After all, you're the one who brought her the letter that commanded she turn us over," Haley informed him, not once looking away from his face. Which allowed her to see the faint look of surprise that crossed it before he schooled his expression into something empty. "If you will excuse me, my lord. I have other business to attend to this night."
She had her hand on the knob when he spoke again, halting her actions. "If you see her, Haley... She cannot hide from her responsibilities. Tell her she must come see me."
"I'm sure she'll find you in her own time, Lord Stark. I wouldn't dare presume to make her do something she didn't want to do." Her words saw him snarling in response. Then the suave exterior was once more in place. The smile he gave her was positively predatory.
"Shall I send Clinton to you, Miss Stone? I'm sure he's missed you and you no doubt would enjoy the bedsport. I believe he pleased you well enough during our sojourn on Thor's island."
"I'd hate to have to deprive you of one of your men because he asked too many questions between the sheets. And cutting out a tongue is just so messy." She leveled a look on him that spoke volumes. "Good evening, Lord Stark. I hope I never have to see you again." Haley ducked out of the room and pulled the door shut before he could say anything more.
Her feet were quick and light as she made her way down the stairs to the main floor of the establishment. Her mind was whirling with the conversation she'd just had. Stark had to be mad as a hatter if he thought that Dare would want anything to do with him now. No doubt she'd known he'd be in Kennewycke. That explained why she hadn't wanted to come ashore with Haley and the others. And if Stark's men hadn't found her on board the sloop, Dare had to have slipped off shortly after she and the others had left for the docks. Haley had no idea where the woman might have gotten to.
Not that it mattered. She'd told Stark the truth. Even if she had known where Dare had gone to, she surely wouldn't have told the other man such information.
The noise of the main room rode her nerves and made her long for the silence of the sea. Frowning, she realized that she couldn't stay. Her meeting with Lord Stark had ruined her evening and she didn't want the unpleasant crush of company. After nodding toward Morgan and Jehnna, who were huddled at a table together, she strode for the door and slipped out into the night air.
It was crisp and salty, blowing in off the docks to carry the smell of the ocean toward her. She could also smell a hint of rain on the air, as if a storm was coming their way. Maybe it would wash the filth from the streets of the small harbor port. The stench of flesh and offal filled her nose, making her wish she'd never left the ship. Too long at sea had left her senses tender to such things. She'd forgotten that towns people had a tendency to leave their piss and shit in the gutters. There were some things that she missed about living on land. That wasn't one of them.
Turning away from the doors of The Black Unicorn, Haley found herself moving further into town. They rarely went into the village proper, only once in a great while to secure provisions and new clothes. And even then, such tasks were often completed by the men who sailed under them. She found herself in a new world, with the darkness of the night only kept at bay by candles glowing behind window panes and flickering flames in the lamp posts that someone spent a great deal of time lighting.
The mouths of the alleys that ran between two houses or two businesses were like the giant, gaping maws of some hungry beasts trying to entice an unsuspecting victim or two into them. She dropped her hand casually to the hilt of her sword and left it there. Something about the night felt unsettled. Not right. She didn't know what it was but there was something... She felt as if she was being watched.
It had to be her imagination. Her meeting with Stark had left her unsettled. The man was arrogant and so self-assured that he'd been genuinely surprised that she hadn't turned Dare over to him and then stripped naked so that he could honor her with the pleasure of his sexual expertise. Even worse had been the implication that he would sent Clinton to her to ask more questions that she wouldn't answer. The man was a right bastard.
Unbidden, a memory of Clinton that last morning rose to taunt her. She could clearly see him, hand reaching for her as he asked her to stay. That was followed quickly with another memory, one involving another blonde. Would Jonathan have done that to her if she'd given him the chance? Would he have asked her to stay with him? Her heart clenched at the idea. Even if he had, she would have said no. She wouldn't have risked his life, wouldn't have endangered him by staying with him. With her Witchbreed powers, she hadn't dared risk it. For just a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would have been like, had she stayed and become his wife.
Those thoughts were beautiful, but she pushed them aside. No doubt he'd already found another bride and wed her by now. He might have spent a few days mourning her departure, but duty would have seen him picking someone else. Duty would have him married to some normal girl, who would give him fat babies with which to play. Babies he could be proud of being father to. That wasn't something she could have given him. Not after she'd seen what had happened to Harper. She'd known then...
Forcibly pushing aside thoughts of Jonathan, she let her mind turn back to Clinton. He knew of her Witchbreed powers. He'd seen them first hand. And he hadn't been repulsed. She'd been amazed, of course. She'd honestly expected him to call her witch to her face and then never look at her again. She'd apparently underestimated him badly. Could he live with her magic? Could he give her the life she'd never have with Jonathan? Would he even want to?
She thought she could settle down with Clinton. She could picture them in a small cottage somewhere that was green and grassy. She could see him working the land, shirt off and skin glistening with the sweat of hard labor. She could see children, with fiery golden hair and that knowing grin. She could see so much. If only he would accept her. If only...
Haley's thoughts swirled away in an instant, driven away by the sound of a foot stepping upon the cobbled stones behind her. She'd felt like someone was watching her. But it seemed that someone was following her. She smiled at that. Given her mood, she would welcome a good fight. And anyone who dared mess with her this night would no doubt end up meeting the end of her blade. Smiling to herself, she purposely cut into one of the shadowed alleys and carefully drew her sword so that she wouldn't make a sound. Then she stepped back into the shadows and waited.
She didn't have to wait long. A single figure stole into the alley behind her. Before he slipped into the shadows, she caught sight of the light from a nearby candle sliding over the oily length of a bared blade. She watched as the figure moved closer and closer, her blade held up against her chest in the shadows.
The man was creeping along, his footsteps slow and as silent as he could make them. The man was swathed in darkness, a cloak of black wrapped around his frame to hide him in the shadows. But Haley couldn't miss the gleam in his eyes. Or the shine of his sword. He'd thought that he could follow her into the alley and take her by surprise. He had another thing coming.
She waited until he'd stepped past her, then she flowed from her hiding place and tapped his shoulder with her sword. The man whirled in surprise, stared at her for a moment before brining his blade up and into play. She smiled at him and blocked his slashing blow with her own sword, then shoved him back to give herself room to fight. "You shouldn't be out alone on a night like this, witch!" the man hissed as he lifted his sword before him.
She frowned at that. She might have thought it was an odd choice of words, but the tone had been too deliberate for that. He'd called her witch because he knew. She hadn't planned on killing him before, just wounding him to teach him that he shouldn't assume all women were easy prey. But this changed things. He was going to have to die and, given her mood, she found she was just fine with that.
"And you think you're man enough to end me?" she asked, then laughed in his face. "I've survived worse than you."
The man said nothing, only grinned. His teeth shone white in the darkness. She found that odd. There was a rustle of sound behind her just as a voice from the other end of the alley called out her name. Then she was thrown forward as something slammed into her back and burning pain ripped up her side. She vaguely noted a figure flying past her toward the other attacker. Reaching back, she found the grip of the dagger that was embedded in her shoulder and tugged it free. The blade glistened wetly in the shadowy alley.
The ringing of metal on metal hit her ears only a moment before her opponent launched himself at her. She slashed at him with the knife, watching in surprise as he jumped back from her. Not such an odd move in itself, but the look on his face suggested that he wanted nothing to do with the blade she held in her hand. That there was something about the dagger that he needed to be careful of. Curious.
The man's sword came up and slashed at her, an attack aimed at taking her head off her shoulders. She caught his blade with her own and pressed forward, The tip of the dagger cut a thin line across the man's stomach before he once more leapt away from her. "I'm going to kill you, fool. Don't think I won't."
The man stared at her, then looked to the hand he'd pressed to his abdomen. His eyes went wide with shock and fear. "You've already done it, witch! I'm dead."
"For a dead man, you make far too much noise." Her sword rose. He never attempted to block it. Instead, he stared at her with those same wide, wild eyes. Watched as her sword swung back before arcing forward. Stared as the blade cleaved through his neck, tore flesh and muscle and hacked through bone. Stared sightlessly as his head tumbled to the dirty ground. His body followed only a few seconds later. She watched the man fall with a sense of satisfaction, then turned to seek out the man's accomplice.
The world swam and burning increased. She felt sweat bead up on her face while her skin went cold. She barely kept her hold on both her sword and the knife she'd pulled from her back. But it was so hard. Her back felt as if it was on fire and every single muscle in her body felt limp. Taking a step forward was the hardest thing she'd ever done. The first one barely counted as a full step. The second one was little more than her foot dragging across the alley floor. She didn't even get to make a third. Because all strength went out of her and she dropped to her knees with a sharp jolt.
At least, she thought it was sharp jolt. She felt it should have been. But she was curiously numb. The sound of her blade and the dagger hitting the ground was distant and tinny. There was a figure standing near the entrance of the alley, staring down at something near his feet. She tried to call out, but nothing came out of her throat.
It wasn't until she was falling forward that she thought she heard her name again. She tried to prepare herself for the impact, but it never came. There were strong hands that caught her and cradled her to a firm chest. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Clinton.
"Haley, can you hear me?" His voice was wrong. And there was something deep in it. Something she hadn't heard in years. Images swirled through her head like dead leaves rolling on a brisk autumn wind. Laughing eyes. Always laughing. She'd never known them to do anything but laugh.
Except for the day Harper had died. That had killed the laughter. Ended it. For a time. And later, there was that single night, the tenderness of his touch and the sweetness of his voice. It couldn't be. She had to be hallucinating, had to be seeing things.
"Damn it, Haley! Answer me!"
She blinked eyes that were blurry. Her vision was growing dim. No. Not Clinton. A sense of awe took her and she tried to lift a hand to his face. It wasn't Clinton. "Jonathan?" she whispered, voice hoarse and raw.
"Its me, Haley. Hang on, my love. Don't you dare leave me again."
She wanted to tell him she wouldn't, but the words didn't come. The darkness was there to eat her down before she even had a chance and she slipped away into peaceful oblivion with Jonathan's face following after her.
Tags:
- author: ladydeathfaerie,
- character: dare scott,
- character: haley stone,
- character: jehnna d'abo,
- character: johnny storm,
- character: logan/james howlett,
- character: morgan lafavre,
- character: remy lebeau,
- character: roxxy stewart,
- character: scott summers,
- character: tony stark,
- universe: marvel,
- universe: marvel au
