She was broken. Physically. Mentally.
Blood leaking out of various wounds. She crawled, with every last ounce of strength, towards the prone form. Every inch feeling like a mile, she at last reached it. She wrapped her arms around the lifeless body of her only friend, tears dropping from her face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry."
"How sentimental."
She lifted her head at the sarcastic remark, glaring hatefully at her friend's killer. The woman regarded her with a cold look, continuing, "A shame it had to be this way." She lifted a pistol, pointing straight at her head. "We could have done great things together."
She could only stare defiantly as Marissa Wiegler squeezed the trigger.
The gun fired...
Hanna Heller awoke in a cold sweat, sitting up and panting heavily. She immediately took in her surroundings. Dresser to the right against the wall, walk-in closet next to it, bathroom door on the left side, a tall standing mirror at the front with a door leading out next to it, and herself under the covers in a bed.
With a person sleeping next to her.
"Hanna?"
Well, not sleeping. Not anymore.
The nineteen-year-old relaxed slightly as she looked down at her friend, asking, "Did I wake you?"
Sophie Williams replied drowsily, "A little. You were mumbling in your sleep."
Hanna looked away, pained. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright. Just a bad dream," Sophie said, propping her head on her elbow. "Want to talk about it?"
Hanna sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity as memories flooded back into her mind. Her friend waited patiently as she gathered her thoughts. Eventually, though...
"Four years," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Four years, and I still keep seeing her face. She-she killed you, and I...I couldn't stop it."
Tears threatened to fall again, and at this, Sophie sat up and reached for Hanna's face, turning her head towards her and softly said, "Hanna, she's dead. That bitch is dead. You killed her. She can't harm you ever again."
She was right, of course. Hanna killed Wiegler, shot her in the head back in Germany. The late CIA agent couldn't do anything now. But it still didn't stop the nightmares from happening, nor did it ease the pain it caused the master assassin.
That wasn't what was gnawing at her emotions, though. Hanna could tell from Sophie's eyes that she figured that out and was once again waiting for an explanation. She eventually answered, "She knew how to do it. How to break me. I failed you. I don't want to fail."
Sophie didn't say anything at first. She didn't need to. She leaned forward and softly pressed her lips against Hanna's. The kiss became longer, more passionate, their tongues dancing with each other as both girls started moaning. Eventually, their kiss ended as they gasped for air.
Sophie spoke this time, saying, "You didn't fail me, or anyone, then. You will never fail me. Know why? Because you're the most dedicated and talented person, the best and bravest assassin, and the most loving and beautiful girl I've ever met. I love you, Hanna, and no matter what happens, we'll always have each other."
Hanna smiled. This was exactly why she loved Sophie. She always knew what words to say to make her feel better. She wrapped her arms around her friend as they resumed their kiss. Again, both girls were moaning, this time their bodies burning with friction and passion, their forms completely bare from their session earlier in the night.
Sophie broke the kiss again, asking, "What time is it?"
"2:12," Hanna immediately replied. She didn't even have to look at the alarm clock on her nightstand to know that. Her training pretty much replaced the need for a clock at all, although she still kept one for Sophie's sake. One look into her eyes, and Hanna knew what her friend wanted. "Sexy Avenger time?"
Sophie giggled slightly and answered huskily, "As much as I wanna see you in that cape I bought you dressed as a sexy Asgardian warrior, I can't wait any longer. I need you. Now."
And who am I to argue with that, Hanna happily thought as their lust for each other reached new levels.
Barricade rolled into the warehouse just outside of Chicago. After triple checking his scanners to make sure he hadn't been followed, as well as to confirm the coast was clear, the disguised Decepticon transformed from his police cruiser form into his Cybertronian self. As his parts finished shifting into his 35-foot frame, a voice called out to him:
"I take it the fight didn't go as planned."
The de facto leader turned and looked at his two fellow Decepticons in annoyance. The one who spoke was named Breakdown, a blue and orange colored Cybertronian whose alt mode was a heavy duty off-road armored SUV. Next to him was a femme, a devious Wing Commander named Slipstream. Though slimmer and smaller than the deceased Starscream, her vehicle mode being that of an F-14 Tomcat, she was just as crafty, if not more so than her predecessor.
"The alliance was a waste," muttered Barricade. "Thanos may have given Prime and the rest of the Autobots their afts handed to them, but even he wasn't able to kill that fragging Lennox fleshling. If that wasn't bad enough, she had the Avengers helping her out and had him frozen in a block of ice!"
"Oh, what a pity," snarked Slipstream. "It would seem you're not as fit to lead as I originally thought."
"Is that a challenge, Slipstream?" Barricade snarled. "If so I'd be more than happy to oblige."
"Uh, where are the others that were with you?" Breakdown asked, making sure to get between his leader and the Wing Commander before it could escalate further.
Barricade leveled one last glare at Slipstream before replying, "Scattered, dead. Not sure. Don't care at the moment."
"Okay, so where does that leave us? When are we gonna strike back?"
"When we find more followers to do so!" snapped Barricade. "You may not have noticed, but the Decepticons are shattered at the moment. We'll have to wait for the next opportunity to do so or until we're back up to full strength."
He could see that didn't sit well with Breakdown. The bruiser wasn't all for waiting and hiding as much as some of the others; he was more comfortable with getting up close and personal with his fists. At this point, though, he didn't have a choice. None of them did actually. Until they had a sizeable force to strike back with, the only thing they could do was bide their time and keep recruiting, as well as keeping under SHIELD's radar.
"Well," Slipstream retorted smugly, "I know where we could find more followers. I picked up a Decepticon signal originating from the Outback Wilderness of the Australian continent, in an area the fleshlings call the Badlands. Apparently, Nitro Zeus and some others have decided to set up shop there. We can arrive there and persuade them join us."
Barricade loathed Slipstream with every circuit in his frame, but unfortunately, she was right. He didn't like Nitro Zeus or his cohorts, mainly because they were just flat out annoying, but adding them to their ranks and their skill sets to their arsenal would be a great boon to the Decepticon cause.
"That's great and all, but how the slag are we gonna get there?" Breakdown asked. "Slipstream could get there just fine, but as for us, boss, we don't have anything in terms of a Groundbridge, let alone any fellow 'Cons that can just airlift us there."
"True," Barricade replied, "but we have some human meatbags that are still alive and loyal to us. It won't take much convincing to make them lend us a transport."
With a plan in mind, they then started preparing for the long trip to the Australian Outback, including making sure to take enough Energon rations and even some weapons and ammunition, just in case.
So busy were the Decepticons that none of them noticed, in a far forgotten corner of the warehouse, a small dark orb hovered in place, seemingly watching the Cybertronians from a safe distance. If one were to take a closer look at it, they would see that it seemed to be black in color, but in reality was more like negative light, something akin to a tiny and somewhat harmless black hole. It watched as much as it could, and as the Decepticons left the warehouse, splitting up as they departed, it disappeared in a burst of energy as it was summoned back to report to its master.
I know, I know, a lot of you were probably hoping for a new chapter of Roses Born of Dust: Banishment, or even a first chapter of Traveling Guardians, Surviving Souls, and Intent Shadows. Before you grab your torches and pitchforks, let me explain.
Real life hit me hard this past year. Work related stress, problems with my computer and video recording software for my YouTube channel, painful writer's bloc, and a long bout of depression brought on by a recent death in the family. Honestly, it was the latter, the death of my great-grandfather (whom I still to this day call Geedaddy), that affected me the most.
Geedaddy (by the way, think of it as saying Good Daddy, only with e's instead of o's) was, to me at least, my greatest hero and role model, having fought in the Pacific Campaign during WWII. In recent years, he started suffering from Alzheimer's, and had to be put into a home in Panama City because of it. Then, as if fate wasn't cruel enough, Hurricane Michael hit the Florida Panhandle and basically flattened the entire city. Not only had my sister lost her job because of the destruction, but the home Geedaddy was at had been wrecked completely and he disappeared. Fortunately, the people that worked there had the sense to evacuate everyone residing it, but they didn't tell us they relocated him to a hospital in Tallahassee. By the time we found out, it was already too late. He passed away at 92, suffering in his final moments alone.
I never once cried during any funeral, even for a closed-casket military funeral. This was no exception, although for the first time in my life, I really wanted to. I helped carry him to his grave, and though I didn't shed any tears, it was the most emotional and heart wrenching moment I've ever experienced. That day in November, the city buried what they believed was another victim of the hurricane. To friends and family, they buried a man they loved dearly. To the United States Navy, they buried a proud American who served his country well.
But to me, I buried my favorite grandfather, who will for all and eternity be the greatest hero I've ever known and loved.
Sorry for going on a tangent, but I had to get that off my chest. Even now, I'm still affected by it.
Anyways, now you know why I haven't been on FanFiction at all recently. The good news is I'm writing more now, and I'm halfway through the next chapter for Banishment. The bad news is that after I post this, I'm taking down my other story. Not that it's a bad concept by any means, but...
Fallout 76...need I say more?
As for what I just wrote, this is something that's been playing in my head for some time now, especially after binge reading Faythren's works, more specifically the stories Move Along, When Hope Is Gone, and When You Fall, all of which are Bayverse Transformers and MCU Avengers crossovers. This new story, which I'm now calling Guardian of Sokovia, will take place after Gone and continue onwards through Fall, four years after the events of the movie Hanna (which is still one of my top favorite movies of all time), and a few months after the events of Destiny 2: Forsaken. Yes, I'm also adding Destiny into the mix, as well as something I'm sure none of you will see coming. What will that be exactly? Well...let's just say next chapter is gonna be one Hell of a Ride. *wink wink*
Because this is gonna focus more on Hanna and Destiny, I will list these two universes as the main crossover for this. New chapter coming soon!
Oh, and before I forget, if y'all want an extended look at that scene between Hanna and Sophie, let me know in the comments. And be sure to check out those three works by Faythren before reading this. For now, prepare yourself for Guardian of Sokovia!
Raptor out!