She cradled his head in her lap, tears running light tracks down her cheeks, the salt water mixing with the blood that covered her and surrounded them both.
After a few agonising seconds when she couldn’t feel a pulse, his heart had began to beat again and her hand laid on his chest feeling each lub-dub of his blood pumping through his body again. She knew she just had to be patient; she had to wait for him to recover, he could handle her mutation. He had done it before and she kept telling herself he could do it again, she just had to wait.
His breath stilled and for a second she thought he had died again, given up his struggle over her mutation. But as soon as that thought had came, it left again as he leapt up out of her grasp.
She gave a small yelp, hoping that whoever was down the hall hadn’t heard it, she didn’t need anyone coming into the room with the floor, bedding and both her and Wolverine covered in her blood. Not easy to explain without someone flipping out.
Her small noise captured his attention and he turned to her, crouched and ready to pounce on whoever was holding him. She watched as his eyes widened as he looked at her. And looking down at herself she realised what shocked him.
Blood covered her chest, soaked into her top, some of the bedding surrounding her and was even caked in her hair. Even without the blood she imagined his focus was also drawn to the three evenly spaced cuts in her top. She watched him as he gradually edged toward her, blades pushing slowly out from between his knuckles with sickening slowness. He raised his hand and lined his blades with their matching holes. For a long time she tried to stay as still as she could so she didn’t spook him until suddenly his blades sank back into his hands and he was leaning over her, pulling her shirt away, ripping the fabric from her body.
Her heart beat ran at double its rate and she began to feel light headed with the clipped, rapid breaths she tried to pull into her lungs as he examined her. It seemed to her like this was becoming a regular thing for him to do to her. He was always trying to find something on her body and she had to admit she didn’t mind one little bit.
His frantic hands were everywhere, searching her skin under where the three punctures had been, trying to find the damage he had caused. He wiped again and again at the blood, trying to find any source, the furrow of confusion on his forehead getting more pronounced the longer he went on.
Finally managing to move her self into action she placed her hands over his, trapping them against her heart, which, embarrassingly was still beating way too fast.
“I took this.” Her fingers stroked between his knuckles before she moved her hand to his chest. “And this.” She shifted her hand to his head, smiling grimly at the memory her actions triggered, but the smile was soon gone when he pulled away from her as if she had burnt him.
She just managed to stop a sob from being ripped from her throat as he stared at her with what she thought looked like disgust.
*-*-*-*-*
After all of the pieces of what he had done to the woman in his cell had finally slotted back into place his world fell apart again.
“I took this.” Her delicate hand softly grazed the skin over his heart, which beat hard against her ribs in response. “And this” As her fingers reached up to his head, the movement triggered something in him. Flashes of what had been, recollections of who he was, memories of her, ran through his head.
He leapt back from her touch on instinct, pulling away and trying to sort through the jumble that his psyche had become.
His mind was a whirl of thoughts, feelings and disjointed memories. But one thing he latched onto was all the memories of the girl sitting in front of him. He saw images of her beaten and skinny being thrown into his cell, the feeling of anger as he smelt all of the guards’ scents on her skin, the smile and purr as she curled into his front and they fell to sleep together in that horrible place.
As pictures flashed across his mind he stilled as one image was thrust into the forefront of his mind. Her creamy white skin being revealed as she pulled off her own thread bare shirt and pulled his on. The warm glow of feelings that accompanied those thoughts rushed in the opposite direction of his head and made him focus again on the real woman before him
As quickly as he had pulled away from her, he lurched back to her side. He knew he was too close to her, invading her space, but he needed to know if what he was remembering was true, if what had gone on in the compound had really happened.
Her smell, that had triggered feelings of calm and security, now surrounded him in memories of sleeping with her in his arms, his face buried in his hair breathing her in. Everything was rushing back to him, too fast for him to properly comprehend, but her mutation had triggered him to remember their first meeting.
He searcher her eyes, with a new fascination and warmth, she had pulled him through uncountable days, the darkest of nights, unending torture and tests. The woman before him had been his life line and he thanked every deity that anyone believed in for bringing him back to her.
She had been looking at him with fear and trepidation, but as his own features softened so did hers. She moved closer to him, so they were almost touching, he light breath cooling his heated skin. They stayed there, perfectly still until he couldn’t handle it anymore.
He reached out, grabbed her and crushed her small frame to his. He wrapped his arms around her and vowed never to let her go again.
The length of time that had passed from when he had been taken from her, to the time his was in at that moment was something he couldn’t comprehend. It could have been only days, but to him it had felt like and eternity. They had moved him again and again, probably scared that the people who had destroyed the last facility were going to find them again. They had tortured him more times than he could, or wanted to recount. Cutting open his flesh over and over to finish what they had started. The beatings had become more often, their boredom had been abated by his pain.
And it had been over that unending time that he had held onto the idea of her, but forced himself to forget the actual woman so they couldn’t use the memory of the sweet girl who hadn’t been afraid, against him.
He had survived through it all with only the knowledge that there was something outside of his prison worth fighting for.
He relaxed his hold on her a little, figuring she might need to breath. She smiled up at hi quickly before snuggling into his chest. As he felt the weight of her against him he looked around them and saw all of the blood again. Guilt swelled in him as the remembered what he had done to her in his sleep.
“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded unfamiliar and gruff, he tried to think of the last time he had spoken willingly.
She shifted in his arms so she could look at his face.
“What for?”
“Hurting you.” He placed his hand over where his claws had violated her body, ripped at her insides and so much blood had spilled from.
She placed her small hand over his. “All better.” She squeezed his fingers slightly. “I should be apologising to you. I can’t imagine how much I hurt you.”
He scoffed, he had impaled her on 3 razor sharp claws and she was worried about a small headache she had given him. “You almost died, I almost killed you.” A flash of her dead, lying limp in his arms, blood still spilling out of her still form crossed his mind. The image made his stomach turn
“You saved me. For the second time.” She turned in his arms, straddling his thighs so she could look right at him, but her movement did everything but keep his focus on what she was saying.
“You remember don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “Do you remember everything?”
“No, just you and a bit before.” As he spoke his hands ran up the sides of her thighs and rested on her hips, he couldn’t help but touch her.
She shifted her position on his thighs a little and then he couldn’t think of anything else but the weight of her body and the feel of her under his hands.
Again the image of her undressing and exposing all of her white skin to him moved to the front of his mind. His eyes strayed from her face and moved down to her body.
He vaguely remembered ripping her top from her to find out where he had cut her and now she sat on him in just jeans and a green bra, her breast rising and falling with each breath. As he moved his hands from her hips to her back and up her spine, her breaths became more rapid and he watched in fascination ad her breasts fought against their constraint.
He straightened up, moving one hand down her back and the other into her hair. He stared into her suddenly desire filled brown eyes and looked for permission to continue. She looked slightly confused at how suddenly his attention had been turned, but she nodded in silent acceptance of his unaired questions. He smiled quickly, liking the fact that her mind was not on a dissimilar track to his own.
Tugging lightly on her hair he drew her toward him, crushing their lips together and pulling her body flush against his.
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