Please note- All characters belong to Marvel except Catherine (Lioness) and Alex (Prophecy). I do not make any money from this, I merely do it to brighten up my dull life, so please don't sue. This is going to be a series, based on an alternative set of events that take place after the Ultimate War, concentrated on my character, Lioness. Not really a spoiler if you haven't read them. You should know that Cyclops is lost in the Savage Land, presumed dead. That's all. Please review, this is only the second thing that I've put up, and I need reviews so that I know whether to curl up and die or not. Thankies, and sorry for the long intro. Just read and see what you think.
Oh, and it's R rated because of later stuff, this chapter is pretty safe, but it's going to progress.
On The Run
Catherine straightened out her claws. It only hurt slightly as they slid slowly from her finger tips. They weren't like Logan's. They were like a cat's. They matched the fluffy ears that protruded from the top of her head instead of the sides, and the strange tail that forced her to make holes in all of her jeans. She didn't like it, but she'd learnt to deal with it.
She studied each sharpened tip. Not a dent.
She was sitting in the spare bedroom. She could hear the TV blazing in the other room. Henry and Kitty were arguing. She could hear every word, a benefit of her increased senses. The room was now in darkness, as she hadn't bothered to turn the light on as the sun set. She had been in there the whole day. She wanted to leave with the others, go and at least try and help. But no. Logan, Piotr and Henry had all insisted that she stayed.
The worst thing was that she knew that it was out of pity. Ever since the Savage land fiasco she had been depressed. Well, who wouldn't? If your best friend gets left behind in the middle of nowhere you can't possibly be expected to go on like nothing has happened. Especially if you knew that he was still alive.
She thought of Scott now. How he had taken her under his wing. He never properly befriended any of the team. He was nice to them, but not close. But he had found a friend in her, somebody who understood him.
She remembered a hazy afternoon when she had been alone, whilst Alex talked to Bobby via their psychic connection. Scott had been supposed to take Jean out, but he saw her alone. Just sitting there. She heard the door slam and his car leave the driveway. She thought he was gone. She definitely hadn't expected him to return half an hour later with Chinese takeout for two and a big tub of ice cream, a copy of 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off' tucked under his arm. She had gasped out of surprise, as his face lit up with a beatific smile.
When she asked what happened to Jean, he had just shrugged and replied "She went to some club with Ororo,"
"Jean? Are you okay?" Kitty's words brought her back from her memories. She pricked her ears up, ready to listen to the conversation in the living room. Her claws retracted back into her finger tips, the skin healing quickly over the cuts.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course I am," Catherine had heard enough. She knew that whatever followed would be some poor 'please feel sorry for me' spluttering on Jean's part. She groaned, and decided that she may as well go to sleep.
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"Is she ok?" Catherine could hear muffled voices. It had a hint of Russian.
"I don't know, she's been in that room all day, I think she's asleep,"
Catherine raised her head and moved her legs off of the bed. She stood up and walked slowly to the door, searching for the door handle and opening it slowly.
She emerged from the room, her hair slightly messy. Her bright pink pyjamas, made of silk with embroidery, contrasted with her pale face. It was hard to get a tan when you spent your days locked up.
Piotr, Logan, Henry and Ororo stood in the corridor, heads turned towards her.
"I'm fine," she said, before they could comment.
"Catherine, it's understandable that you're upset, we all know that you were very close to Scott, you just have to-" She turned to Ororo suddenly. A glare adorned her defined features. Eyes that seemed to contain every natural colour flicked over her team mates from beneath long, thick, jet-black eyelashes.
"You don't know anything. Just stop tip-toeing around me like I'm Jean, because I'm not," she replied fiercely.
Ororo swallowed her words, taken aback. Catherine was taking it badly, she knew. She had been used to a harsh life, stealing cars had only been the tip of the iceberg. She wondered for a moment if this could be true of Catherine, but no. Senator's daughters didn't have to live on the streets. She glanced at the boys. Piotr felt sorry for her, she could see it from the way his eyebrows raised and moved towards each other. Henry was annoyed, although felt guilty - that was an easy thing to understand. He was trying to keep an angry face, but every so often it slipped away into a sympathetic gasp. Logan was the only one who stood tall. His arms folded across his chest, a defiant eyebrow raised in silent question. His legs were set statically in line with his shoulders.
Catherine avoided his stare, turning to look behind her. She tried to make it look like it was out of shyness in her state of depression, yet she could feel his eyes boring into her. She knew that he knew her avoidance was out of shame. Shame for what? Acting as she had around Scott, she guessed. She knew that he was dating Jean, yet still she persisted. Logan knew. She could tell. His smirking every time she asked Scott for something was only one of the many tell-tale signs.
Henry walked away, heading for the kitchen. Ororo watched as he turned, wondering how all this distance had come between them. She knew, of course. But sometimes it just felt…felt like they should never have broken up. She started to follow Henry to the kitchen, then stopped at the last minute, turning to enter the living room. Chickened out again.
Catherine lifted her gaze from the floor, looking up at Piotr. If she couldn't get respect, then at least she could get sympathy. By the time their eyes met, hers were tear-filled.
"I'm so scared," she said quietly to him, her voice just louder than a whisper. Logan rolled his eyes as Piotr crouched over suddenly and gripped Catherine in a hug. She could see him out of the corner of her eye. His look so scathing. She didn't want to know. She didn't need that. She closed her eyes and buried her face into the folds of fabric on Piotr's jacket shoulder. Her arms wrapped around his neck.
"It's ok," Piotr said soothingly into her hair. His strong body could support this. Her. He could help, and he would. He wasn't just the token Russian guy. He was a person. He played the guitar, he beat Scott and Catherine at pool with Kitty. He thought of how weak she was now. A girl who could rip a piece of adamantium apart with her bare hands. She was even stronger than him, and yet now here she was, crying into his shoulder. Clinging for support, love perhaps. "It's alright,"
Logan smirked. He wondered what Scott would think of this elaborate display of affection. People always assumed that he should be treated differently, that he had this terrible dark past that tore at his inner being. Well, he did, but he didn't really mind it. He was just a normal guy, really. And, apparently, his name was Jim Howlett. He remembered the look on Captain America's face when he had stated that. His trademark smirk disappeared. His claws came out.
Catherine jerked her head up suddenly. Piotr loosened his grip slightly, turning to follow Catherine's stare.
Logan's eyes were wild, his smile deadly. It seemed as though a flame danced inside his skull. His stance was one of attack, legs parted in a cowboy swagger, arms hanging loosely by his sides, and yet ready to be pulled up at any moment. And then, almost as suddenly as it had come, the look left him. His eyes were still not his though. They were empty, sorrowful. His claws slid slowly back into his knuckles. Painfully. His head was bowed now, bent over and staring at the floor, although not actually seeing it.
His head jerked up suddenly, "Did I scare ya?" he asked, smirking once more. Piotr laughed a little. Catherine smiled slightly, before looking up at Piotr.
Logan continued to smirk, before walking away to watch the host family's husband have a midnight snack and then blame it on the son.
"Do you want something to eat?" Piotr asked her, a look of great care coming over his face. This brought back a faint recollection of her hunger to Catherine. She had been too depressed all day to eat, but she guessed that she had to eat something, or they would all get worried. She nodded gently.
"OK, I'll go make you something," he replied, motioning for her to follow him. They entered the kitchen, and she sat down at the breakfast bar, watching boredly as he rooted around in the various cupboards. Trying not to cry as she thought of how Scott had done the exact same thing, only a few months ago. She snapped herself out of it. She wasn't a little kid any more. She was the youngest member of the team, and they gave her enough grief for that.
"Here, vegetarian-cat friendly food," Piotr said, passing her a plate of pasta. She smiled briefly, and began to eat.
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Catherine attempted to roll over again. Then realised that she couldn't. Piotr had taken it upon himself to comfort her. For that reason, and for that reason alone (she hoped), they were sharing the double bed in one of this family's spare rooms. He was so tall, and she quite short. She bundled up neatly in a big bear hug. The only problem was that she couldn't move, and she was beginning to overheat.
The warm, muscled arms should have been a comfort to her. They would have if they were Scott's. But then they would have been accompanied by his bristly chin, resting on her head. She would have snuggled into them, a sleepy smile on her face. Piotr's arms were just annoying. They were ok, but no comfort. She liked Piotr, she had often wondered what would happen if she made a move. But no, whenever she started to seriously consider it, Scott would come along and do something to change her mind. She considered the idea that she may love him. It was strange. She wriggled out from Piotr's grasp. He moaned slightly, rolling over.
She walked slowly out. Her bare feet padding slowly across the wooden floor. She was a master at stealth. She walked past where Alex and Kitty slept by the door, wrapped up in blankets to prevent them from losing heat to the floor.
She was there, at the plain white door. Her eyes were adjusting, and as each second past she saw the room in more detail.
She reached forward and opened the door. The hall was empty, pitch black. Except…except for a vague light. It seemed to be coming from the kitchen.
'Probably the father,' she thought to herself, shrugging. She decided that she would pay a little visit to him. See if she could make him tell her some secrets, sub-consciously of course. It would be the only thrill she got.
But as she got closer to the kitchen, something didn't seem right. There was a stench of cigars, dowsed with beer. It was sweaty, too. To be frank, whoever was in there stank. She wrinkled her nose, approaching slowly. Perhaps one of the family members had been out, she wasn't sure. She reached for the door handle, turning it slowly. She opened the door, a crack of warm light and smoke spilling out.
She stepped into the room, squinting to see who it was. A flash of metal and she knew.
"Hello Logan," she said.
