”Are they fucking nuts? Separate groups? How the fuck would I have known which way to go? Half of my fucking brain was missing that last day!”
That’s… That’s right. But that’s not the only reason why he insisted that we all stick together. He wants to keep me close to him. And he wants to get closer to the woman that’s walking beside us. She could be Vasquez’s sister. In a way she is. She’s a clone.
“Okay, kid. You know the drill… Up you go!”
I’m heavier than I was back then. But then again he’s well fed and rested. And wants to show off. He knows perfectly well what lifting me up does to his arms. How it makes the muscles ripple under skin that’s already covered with thin sheen of sweat and muck.
“Give us a warning if you see anything moving, okay darling?”
And then his whole attention turns to Vasquez. Or the woman resembling her. I tune out their hushed voices as they compare notes about our surroundings and the most effective way of disposing the creeps we’ll surely be facing. His shoulders feel comforting. Wide and hard, shifting only slightly when he wades through the water. His hair is longer than it was the last time, but still standing up on proud peaks on both sides of his head. Vasquez… I’ll call her Vasquez… Top of her head barely reaches Logan’s shoulders, but what she’s missing in stature she certainly replaces with attitude and firepower. The gun she’s carrying, I wish they had those back then. Maybe things would have gone little differently if Logan’s team had a decent weapons, and… What was that?
“I saw it, kid. Careful, everybody! Un-friendlies in the water!”
----------------------------------------------------------
They were cocky and arrogant. They’re no more joking and laughing. Not when half of them are missing and there are just five of them left.
“Okay. Listen up. There’s a good chance that none of you pathetic bastards gets across this swamp alive.”
Now they’ll listen. It’s already too late, but it’s better than never. Because he’s right.
“I have been there. Head full of shit and piss, goddamned sure that this isn’t the day I die. And on a day like that I died. None of you fucks have my mutation, so unless you’re planning to cease to exist you stop screwing around or walk back to the evac zone. Is that clear?”
Half of his anger is born from fear. The other half from disappointment. Vasquez’s look-alike was all attitude. Real one wouldn’t have made a mistake that even the greenest of rookies could have avoided easily. The real one lasted at his side significantly longer than the clone.
“Let’s get moving! We’ll take the point! Rest of you… Scatter behind us! Fucking scatter, I said! Fucking pansies…”
When one of them dares to ask what formation scatter is he looks about ready to finish off them all. But he doesn’t. He explains with very calm and patient voice that scatter means scatter, That it isn’t some fucking formation from some goddamned guide-book, but a way to divide the team and prevent us all from getting killed even if one or few more of us gets eaten.
----------------------------------------------------------
“You okay up there, kid?”
He squeezes my knee and glances briefly upwards. I flash a hesitant smile.
“Not quite what I had in mind for you when we left this planet, but I’ll make sure that you get through this.”
We start moving and I try not to squeeze him too hard, try my best not to block his view when I hug his head briefly. His shoulders bunch under me, but he relaxes as soon as I let go. And for a while everything goes well. As it should go. Air is hot and humid. Men behind us keep cursing bugs that are pestering them. Scent of rot and dirt hangs heavy in the air. He stumbles a bit but finds his balance before I fall in to that black water. We’re making good progress. Then suddenly without warning all hell breaks loose.
----------------------------------------------------------
“Let me see that… Shit. We’ll have to put some stitches on that… Any one of you useless wankers a medic?”
It’s not bad. It isn’t. He won’t let me see, but it isn’t bad. Just a scrape on my forehead. And small gash on my thigh. Not bad.
“You call those stitches? That’ll fucking leave a scar! You think she’d appreciate to walk around for the rest of her life looking like a fucking Frankenstein’s monster? … Never mind what that is, just keep those straight and even…”
Now they actually managed to kill one of those black beasts. It’s a shame. We were supposed to get a live specimen. I guess we’re going to spend quite some time out here.
“…It doesn’t fucking matter! Even if she’d be unable to touch for the rest of her life she doesn’t have to look like some deranged sewing machine attacked her! Give me that! And get the hell away from her!”
Only one, and it managed to tear apart one of them. The whole remaining team is tending their scrapes and bruises. We were lucky that we were this close to dry land already. I can hear them whispering to each other. I can hear every word as clear as a day. I can smell everything. I can see. Everything has gained almost sickening level of clarity all of a sudden. He touched me. It was bad but he touched me to make it better and it still takes stitches to keep me falling apart?
“You got little mangled. Now… I’m no expert on this, but I’m better than that fuck that has the balls to call himself a medic. Stay still now and you’re probably able to look in to a mirror without screaming later.”
----------------------------------------------------------
“Sit.”
I’m getting the mother of all déjà vu’s. We’re in a container. The first one on our path to the Nest. I’m sitting in a corner at the back, he’s sharing rations for his men before he walks to me and hands me a… An energy bar. Whole energy bar, canteen of fresh water and a small package of sickening sweet paste.
“Eat.”
It’s hard to chew when there’s a row of stitches running all the way from my forehead, over my cheek down to my jaw, but I bite in. He eats his portion, staring blankly forward. When we’re finished he pulls me on his lap and lets me curl upon him like a living blanket.
“Sleep.”
His hands rest on my back. I can feel the muscles and tendons in them shifting, and there’s a metallic hissing sound. His claws. They’re out. He heard the team whispering earlier as well as I did.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000