Disclaimer:
I don't own X-Men Evolution, it belongs to Marvel, Boyd Kirkland, Greg Johnson, and various others. I wish I did though. Or at least owned adult X23. Oh yeah... her, a tropical island, and some coconut oil. That's all I ask for.
Summary:
X23 finds herself on the run from mysterious assassins, and seeks sanctuary at the Xavier Mansion. But can X23 fit in, even amongst her mutant peers? Can a girl trained from birth to kill learn to live her own life? And what is HYDRA up to with these mysterious new killers whose past are linked with hers? Takes place about one year after Ascension (part II). Rated PG-13 for mild cursing, action violence and some horror.
"You made me a monster. A weapon."
- X23
Somewhere deep in the Canadian wilderness.
A forest of heavy pines far away from civilization, even campers and nature enthusiasts would rarely travel out this far, the closest hint of it was a single road stretching the length of it from one town to another, a slice of humanity making a trail through nature. But even so, most people went through as quick as they could and did nothing to enter or spoil the surrounding landscape. And that was long before the rumors of the region being haunted started.
It was recent, of course, no more than a year or so ago, the trappers in the region (hunting illegally, likely) came back from one of their trips with tales of monsters out in the woods. Some sort of animal that roared like a mountain cat and left devastation in its wake. Some of them even said it walked upright like a man, but none of them got a good look at it. All they saw after the attack was the slashes, the marks in the trees and on their clothes. Curiously enough, however, none of them came out of the scare with nothing more than a few shallow scratches and some spoiled undergarments. Their kills had been stolen, however, and their weapons too, but that was all of it. Most chalked it up to careless (or drunk) hunters who'd lost their stuff and made the whole thing up.
But they had seen something.
They'd seen a weapon.
Then more and more tales started circulating about monsters and animals loose in the region. And some who swore they'd spotted a silhouette of a girl, a shadow against the trees. An evil spirit who haunted the region. Or maybe even some sort of mutant. The second one prompted a bit more of a response, a few beers were raised to anyone who promised to skin the mutant if they came across it. But no one ever got hurt, just scared witless, and so most tended to ignore the forest and just kept to themselves, going straight through or around if possible.
Leaving the region with a single occupant. A living weapon. Or a lost teenaged girl.
Depending on whom you asked.
Currently, that weapon was out stalking her dinner, gracefully gliding through the forest under the cloudy, moonlit sky. It was cool this time of year, but not yet winter, so the snow Canada was infamous for had yet to fall. But soon it would. And it had been almost three weeks since her last fresh kill, and far longer since she'd last seen any trappers or hunters in her territory. They were learning to avoid her. Which was smart for them. But bad for her. It meant she needed to spend more time out of her den and hunt abroad for fresh meat. Gather up enough for when winter did come.
Silent as moonlight, she climbed up one of the pine trees, moving from branch to branch, barely shaking a single pinecone out of place from her carefully controlled movements. Her eyes shined green as the clouds above parted and the pale white moon cast its glow on the forest. She froze then, remaining perfectly still. Though her prey tended to react to predators they could hear and smell, they were not blind, and movement might draw attention to herself. So she stayed still in the shadows of a tree, eyes glowing, and waited for the clouds to pass overhead again.
Finally, a cloud drifted back overhead, and the moonlight vanished, the weapon with it. Silent as a shadow, she moved, leaping through the air, grabbing hold of a nearby tree branch and vaulting upwards to land in a crouch atop of it. Her prey was directly beneath her, and it was blissfully unaware of her presence. It hadn't even so much as heard her boot scrape against the bark of the tree branch.
She raised up both arms like an acrobat and stood upwards, then fell backwards off of her perch and dived down headfirst, falling a good twenty feet from the branch all the way down. Five feet from impact, she extended her arms and with an audible 'snickt!' a pair of blades extended from both fists, between her knuckles. The deer's head snapped up, having heard that well and clear. But by then, of course, the predator struck.
X23 moved silently and swiftly.
The deer died likewise.
It had felt no pain, barely had time to realize it was being attacked before it was over and done with. X23 had gone straight for the upper back, breaking its spine in such a way that it was dead instantly. No time to feel any pain, no time for it to suffer.
Unfortunately, once the kill was over with, the young girl was far less subtle about dragging the carcass back to her den. For one thing, a fifteen-year-old girl just didn't have the muscle mass or size to physically lift the thing up and sling it over her shoulder, no matter how extensive her training with HYDRA had been. So she'd had to lash some leather straps to it (stolen from the trappers) and haul it behind her through the floor of the forest. Thankfully, she had less need to conceal herself now that she'd made her kill. If anything, she had good reason to scare off others who might want to come and find it.
Once or twice, she'd had problems with the bears in the region wanting to claim her dinner for their own. A few well-placed blows had convinced them to find easier sources of food, and by now most of the animals of the region gave her a wide berth. Just like the humans.
She was fine with that.
Or at least, that is what she told herself, on good days. On bad days, her mind would start to slip out of the rigid self-control she'd imposed on herself and she'd daydream of what it would be like to be an ordinary teenaged girl of fifteen. Even a mutant could have a life that was reasonably normal, like she'd seen at the Xavier Institute. Children and teens playing, working, interacting. Things she could never have. Things that had been stolen away from her by HYDRA and by the scientists who had made her and then re-made her into a weapon. And then she'd snap back to reality, and she'd remember... usually in the middle of a pile of woodchippings.
If her self-restraint ever slipped, she was dangerous. This was a fact. She had to maintain iron control over her emotions or she would hurt someone. That's why she lived out here. All alone.
She was fine with that.
Reaching the cave she called home, she dumped the carcass down on the ground and took a moment to cover the entrance with some fresh branches and leaves, masking it from outsiders. A casual observer wouldn't notice a thing out of place, and many good hunters would be hard-pressed to spot the telltale signs of her presence. She always made sure to cover her tracks and wash away her presence, and even laid down some herbs along the perimeter to the entrance. They kept animals away with a particularly nasty odor. It made sleeping troublesome sometimes with her sensitive nose, but it was a welcome comfort all the same. Even the fire she'd relit gave off only a little smoke, and it was carefully filtered out of the cave by a well-carved opening in the top, courtesy of adamantium blades.
It made sure she was alone, at least.
No one around for miles, just her, all alone, with her thoughts.
Frowning darkly, her tan features contorting with anger at how frequently her mind was beginning to wander, X23 turned her attention to food. Unsheathing her claws, X23 tore up the side of the deer and began to separate meat from bone, venting her rage on the dead animal. Her meal for tonight, and the remainder (and there would be a lot) she would do her best to preserve and store away deeper in the cave complex for winter. Humans -and- animals would be scarce during the cold months, and she wouldn't be able to keep stealing or hunting during those times as efficiently. Which reminded her. Finishing her carvings, she grabbed up a tossed aside backpack she'd liberated from some campers who'd wandered into the region a year ago. Inside, she located some foodstuffs she'd stolen recently, and began to tear open one of the health food bars, stuffing it into her mouth and swallowing with little ceremony.
She had to keep healthy, after all, and no one could survive exclusively on meat.
Her tasks finished, she exhaled slowly, allowing the tension to slides out of her body and dissipate.
It -was- lonely here, she admitted to herself, as she sat down cross-legged by the small fire and poked at it with a deer's antler to stir it up a bit. And she often wondered what had become of Wolverine, the closest thing she'd ever had to family. To a father figure, of sorts. Someday she might even go to find him. But right now, she wasn't ready. She wasn't in control. So it was safer to stay out in the middle of the wilderness, far away from everyone. If she lost control, no one would get hurt.
She shivered a little in the cold, zipping up her black leather jacket and wrapping her arms around herself. The temperature outside was still dropping, and the fire could only do so much to keep her warm. But it was all she had right now. So she had to make due. She lay down on a small, makeshift bed of animal pelts (from former kills) and curled up into a ball beside the fire. She lay her head down and closed her eyes, exhaling as she drifted off to sleep. As well trained as she was, she could fall asleep or snap awake in an instant, and never slept too lightly. In case something happened.
If it did, she would be ready.
As always, though she slept lightly and fully in-tune with her surroundings, X23 dreamed as she slept. But her dreams were not pleasant. They were filled with blood and death and shadowy figures who came at her when she was weak and helpless. And placed molten hot metal into her arms and feet and made her into a living weapon. Stealing away anything and everything that made her human.
As she slept, she shivered again. But not from the cold this time. With fear.
Unbeknownst to X23, she was being watched.
From his vantage point half a mile away on a high ridge, safely out of her range of enhanced hearing and smell, a shadowy figure sat perched on a tree branch, peering at her makeshift home through his infrared binoculars. She was a very distinct silhouette of orange and red warmth, and he could still dimly make her out despite the cover blocking his view. It didn't matter, he'd seen more than enough.
For all her preparations from being discovered, she'd grown very sloppy since escaping from HYDRA. A proper operative would've hid in plain sight, so to speak, amongst the everyday people, in a home, in a city, somewhere where she would be less obvious. Here, the only living being for miles around, she was as obvious as a blue-furred mutant would be amongst a Friends of Humanity gathering.
"No matter," he mused aloud, his voice low and guttural as he lowered the binoculars to his side, making his way forward. "This'll just make my job that much easi-..." he started to say, then stopped, and paused. Or rather, froze his entire body.
A glint of moonlight had shined through the cloud cover. Barely in time for him to see the whisper-thin black wire that was stretched across the ground just under his boot. Slowly, he eased his foot back, then kneeled down, peering at the wire. It was really more string than wire, but it was coated in blackish mud to keep it from being visible. And he'd nearly fallen for it. Whatever it was connected to, he didn't want to know. So... not so soft after all then.
"Booby traps," he murmured aloud. "Very nice..." he said with something close to respect in his voice. In truth, he was annoyed. Trying to get past them all would take too long, it might even be dawn by the time he reached her. And if he'd almost triggered this one, he might not be so lucky next time. And even if the traps weren't too dangerous to him, they would slow him down, and she'd be awakened. She might slip away from him again, and his superiors would be very, very annoyed at learning they'd wasted a year tracking her down only to lose her again.
The operative grinned and, from a standing start, crouched down and vaulted himself up into a nearby tree, landing on a branch a good thirty feet off the ground with seeming no effort at all, his long, dark trench coat swishing about his ankles as he grabbed at the trunk to steady himself. He glanced over his shoulder back at the way X23's home was, and grinned evilly, the moonlight shining off of his razor sharp teeth.
"Catch you later," he promised her, and then launched himself into the air and onto the horizon. Time to return to his own base of operations, report in, and await further instructions. He only hoped he'd be given the go-ahead soon, he was getting itchy for some blood to be spilled. Hell, he might even go hunting after he'd reported in and kill himself a rabbit just for the chance to feel sticky red blood between his fingertips.
Some of his colleagues said he needed a hobby. He just replied that killing was his hobby. It just happened to be a very messy hobby.
When morning came, X23 did not linger in her makeshift bed, but slid to her feet with speed and efficiency, shaking away the hint of drowsiness that clung to the back of her eyelids and tossing it aside like she would a crumpled ball of paper, becoming fully alert in a matter of moments. After a brief stretch, she began to attend to her daily work, which mostly included sharpening animal bones into knives (a small collection having been piled up in the far corner) designed specifically for throwing. She had no real need of the regular ones, thanks to her claws, but if someone came at her from a distance she might need them as backup. Taking a moment to wash out her mouth with a canteen nearby, she paused, tilting it upside down and shook it. Barely a droplet escaped. Empty.
Growling darkly, she started to hurl the empty canteen away... then caught herself. And gently lowered it to the ground, taking a moment to calm down. Instead, she added a trip to the river on her list of activities today. Which wouldn't be so bad, she mused. She could use a wash as well. If she went much longer without a bath she might clog her own sense of smell with her bad odor.
She slipped silently out of her lair and made her way a short distance southwards towards the stream. It was actually only a short distance further to the highway that passed through the region. Far enough away she wouldn't be seen, but close enough that if she wanted to get back to the road she'd have an easy way of doing so. Hijack or stowaway on a vehicle and go wherever she desired. However, right now all she desired was to get washed off, and so she stripped away her clothes and stepped ankle deep into the flowing water. It was icy cold, no shock there, and she gave an involuntary shudder as the biting cold water slapped against her bare skin, but she moved quickly instead to wash her green tank, her black leather jacket and pants, and giving her boots a quick rinse to make sure they wouldn't carry any lingering scents of blood and death. Then she hung them on a nearby tree branch and returned to the river, and, taking a deep breath, ducked under the water completely.
A few seconds later, and she emerged, gasping for air, her entire body shivering and wet, but she grimly ignored it as she did her best to slick back her dark hair. It was getting longer, she realized, and harder to tame with the usual methods. She might have to resort to tying it back soon or it would get in her eyes when she moved her head. Like that girl from the Institute... it took her only a moment to recall her name.
Katherine Anne Pride, aka Shadowcat, age 17, Corporeal Intangibility.
X23 had a near-perfect memory, and she'd made a thorough study of all the mutant files that SHIELD had kept. However, as she remembered the info on Kitty Pride, her mind veered off in another direction. Images of children playing, teenagers goofing off while they should have been working, mock fighting with cellphones and pillows. And then more images came. Fighting Wolverine, angry and screaming. HYDRA soldiers, surrounding them both, overwhelming them. Gauntlet and Omega Red, hunting her. Hunting them. Alone in a white room, starving and cold. Madame Hydra. The explosion that destroyed her past and ruined her future. And then most horrifying of all, the very worst of her memories...
... trapped in a jar of green goo, tubes and breathers wrapped around her face to keep her alive. Bandages were wrapped around her forearms from after the surgery. And as she watched, the shocking, startling pain as the adamantium blades sprang free from between her knuckles...!
"Raaauauuggh!!"
The scream and the cold jolted her awake, and she realized she was standing back in the river, her memories gone. Her claws were extended however, the shockingly fresh pain in her knuckles telling her she'd only extended them a moment ago, and sheepishly she retracted them, wrapping her arms around herself in a vain attempt to keep warm.
She couldn't do this. She couldn't control herself. Her past and her memories continued to torment her, and her rage was threatening to destroy herself as surely as it would have destroyed anyone else. There had to be another way. And even if she could survive, what then? Live like an animal for the rest of her days, alone, afraid, never resting, never happy? There had to be something else. There had to be some way to deal with this.
Wolverine...
... that thought she angrily pushed out of her head. He couldn't help her any more than he could help himself. Besides, she'd put him and the X-Men through enough grief with her attack on the mansion and her crusade against Hydra. No sense in burdening them with more troubles. She'd deal with this. Somehow.
She took a deep breath, releasing the tension from her body, and grimly continued to wash herself off, slapping icy water on her arms to rinse away layers of grime and filth that had accumulated since the last time she'd taken a bathe. Finished, she crawled out of the water and crouched down behind a nearby tree to shield herself from the breeze, letting herself (and her clothes) dry a bit before she got dressed. As she did, she idly spotted a puddle of water that had escaped the river, and peered over into it at her reflection.
A face she barely recognized peered up at her. Her face was a mixture of girl's and woman's. What was evident of a child was to be found in her smooth, clear and lightly tanned skin and slightly rounded features, unmarked by any sort of injury or aberration thanks to her healing factor. The only features out of place were her jade green eyes, which were far too old, too troubled, too dark for a child. They were the eyes of someone who had looked under the bed and found real monsters waiting for her under there. Her hair was slightly bushy, wild, untamed, and virtually uncut. Apart from an occasional self-administered haircut (which usually left it -more- ragged for some reason) she'd never had a chance to fix it. A while back she'd almost given up, and now it grew down almost to the small of her back. She was still lean, still strong, but months away from proper food and rest had forced her to use up most of her fat reserves. If she was evaluating herself as a potential victim, she would say she was much too thin to last more than a few rounds in a serious fight. Strength but no stamina. Power but no endurance.
So yes, she was surviving. But at what cost?
Sighing softly, confused in a fashion that only a teenaged girl could be, the weapon without a name grabbed up her tank top and slid it on, the wet material clinging to her developing curves as she drew up her pants and belted them into place, dressing herself. As if hoping if she stuck to a dull routine these sorts of greater problems would just go away...
... she paused suddenly, hands on her belt, and slowly slid it into place around her waist, even as she tilted her head to one side, giving her ear better hearing range. She could've sworn she'd just heard a twig snap. And it sounded much too light to be a deer or a bear. More hunter/trappers? He sniffed at the air, then her eyes widened in shock at the familiar scent.
Gunpowder.
She moved quickly, slamming her back against the tree to use as cover, casting out all her senses like a net to the immediate area, hoping to catch anything out of the ordinary. The scent of gunpowder was mixed with something else. Sweat, leather... dried old blood. And not animal blood either. That wasn't the scent of a hunter. That was the scent of a killer.
And as if to prove her point home, she heard the click and whoosh of weapon fire, and dove forward seconds before the tree she'd been using as cover exploded from rocket fire, chips of wood flying in every direction. More than half a dozen passed through her tank top and imbedded themselves into her back, forcing her to bite back a cry of pain. Her healing factor would handle that, and more importantly would push the wooden splinters out of skin, she ignored those and just moved. She still couldn't properly locate her enemy, so she had to move. Get some distance, return when she had a better idea of who and what she was fighting. Fortunately she'd prepared more than a few escape routes, and X23 quickly dove for the nearest one. Something told her she'd need speed instead of stealth to escape this enemy. She grabbed up her jacket as she ran, sliding her hands over two of the bone knives hidden in her breast pocket, closest to her chest. She had a feeling she'd need them.
She dove into the underbrush and seemingly vanished, and after ten minutes of zig-zag running, she launched herself into the air, sliding out one of her foot-claws to dig into the trunk of the tree and provide her with a rough foot-hold to further launch herself up along it and grab a nearby tree branch. There she hid amongst the pine needles, and again cast out of her enhanced senses. Nothing save the explosion, no sign of her enemy. They must've retreated for the moment to study the situation, same as she had. Which meant they were good.
Very good.
Eyes narrowing darkly in concentration, she tightened her grip on one of the bone knives hilts, tilting her head from side to side. "Come on, show yourself..." she croaked out, grimacing faintly at the pain in the back of her raw throat. She'd forgotten to refill her canteen back at the spring. But worse than that, she'd not used her voice beyond screaming in almost nine months now. It was hoarse from disuse.
The scent of sweat and blood reached her nose as the winds shifted, and she realized where her foe was. Not willing to let him have the same advantage, she slid around the back of the tree, below its branches, and clung to the side with her adamantium claws, one arm and both feet digging into the material to keep herself held up. She lifted up her right arm, with the dagger, and extended the metallic claws between her knuckles and held them up to her face, using them as a reflective mirror.
She barely caught a glimpse of something black and dull crimson before she heard another whoosh and realized another rocket had been fired at her, and slipped her blades free of the tree to leap forward. However, she mis-timed her jump, and the tree exploded with her barely a meter away from it. The blast sent her flying through the air, slamming into another tree hard enough to shatter some of it's branches, and then falling hard to the ground, rolling about a dozen meters before she came to a stop, coughing up blood.
Grimly, she pushed past the pain, trying to stand, and realized her ankle was broken from her impromptu flight. She collapsed onto her knee. Grimacing, knowing full well this was going to be excruciating, she reached down and snapped it back into place to aid her healing factor, then started to crawl forward. Southwards. She was too far away from her lair to get back to it, and even if she did, it would be a deathtrap to someone who was going bazooka-happy on her. She needed to get to the highway. Find a vehicle. Get away. Live.
The dark figure grinned underneath his goggles, tossing aside his rocket launcher and reaching down underneath his trench coat for his twin pistols. Normally fitted with armor piercing rounds, this time they had knockout darts prepped, as HYDRA wanted the little brat alive. Still, if he accidently happened to shoot her more than once, he could hardly be held accountable. The toxin had been specially designed with Weapon X23 in mind, they'd overwhelm even her advanced healing factor and render her unconscious for hours. And by then she'd be trussed up tight as a mental patient in straightjackets made of solid titanium. No way she'd break out of that easily.
Grinning darkly, he took his time and made his walk into a stroll. She wouldn't get far now, not before he'd catch up to her and pump her full of toxins. He'd...
... he paused, tilting his head. That sound. Wheels... heavy metal. A car. The highway!
Cursing himself, he ran forward, pistols up and ready. He had to catch her before she made it to the highway, or he might lose her again. Growling, he charged forward through the underbrush, slapping aside saplings and bushes out of his way and vaulting over rocks to increase his speed.
No way she was slipping away from him again. Not this time.
X23 crawled forward, the highway was in sight. She could smell the burnt rubber, the fumes of gas. Normally she'd be sickened by the stench of civilization, but now she was overjoyed. She tested her foot. It hurt abysmally, but it was enough to stand. She stumbled closer, faster. Behind her, she could hear her attacker redoubling their pace. They were after her, and likely figured out her plan by now. She had to move quick. She grabbed at the metal railing and crouched down low, keeping concealed. She had to time this right or she was either a pancake on the side of the road (something she wasn't positive she could bounce right back from, healing factor or not) or she was dead or captured or worse whenever the killer caught up to her.
A larger trucker came by, a bright crimson, bearing the logo of some soft drink she didn't recognize. It was perfect. Behind her, the killer moved in, and she caught sight of a short, dark figure in a trenchcoat raising up an arm, at the other end of which was a weapon.
Now.
He fired. She moved.
Her body twisted to avoid the projectile as she flipped gracefully through the air and slid effortlessly between the trailer and the semi-truck. Had she clung to the side, the driver would've noticed her in one of his mirrors, and they would've stopped, and X23 would be dead. As it was, they were blissfully unaware as she vanished, clinging to the back of the semi and then pushing herself up so she was riding atop of the trailer itself. She turned back to see if she was being pursued, but the highway was completely empty behind her. Her attacker must've given up.
For now.
The trailer swerved at a turn in the road, and she compensated by spreading her legs and riding it out, but it reminded her of how precarious her situation was, and so she knelt down and sliced at the top with her claws, tearing open a rectangular hole in the top of the truck, then leapt down gracefully into the inner confines, amongst the heavy crates and packages of the company. Idly, she ran a hand over one of the crates that partially open, finding that someone (likely the driver) had opened it up to help himself to some of his own delivery, and reached in, finding one of the metallic cans remaining. Remembering her basic social interaction studies, she reached down and popped open the lid, then drank deeply.
Solving her thirst problem, if nothing else. And that thought made her smile.
Author's Notes:
A re-write of my old 'Weapon X24' story, which was in serious need of revising and updating. Many elements will be the same, but I hope old readers will enjoy this new envisioning as well, as a lot will also be changed.
Also, I am aware of the recent envisions of "comic" X23, and some of it will be used to influence the story, but this remains at heart an X-Men Evolution tale, and will unfold as such.