This is..rather unusual writing for me, so please be kind.
Story takes place short after UXM #422, and is a kind of a spin-off.
Disclaimer: Marvel can kiss my-err, it all belongs to them. No need to sue.
Reviews: A good word on the way for yours truly, perhaps?
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Going north and coming home
"Tickets, please, from NY central, tickets, going to Boston, Portland, Montréal,
Edmonton, tickets-thank you, Ma'am, Sir, tickets.."
It was a quiet evening on the train, and the few people riding it, where too tired
to make much of a ruckus.
Or so the controller thought.
He reached the next covet, still repeating his mantra.
"Tickets, please, tick-"
The bulky man in the single booth slowly turned his head, and the expression in his
piercing, steel-blue eyes read:
'Bug me, and you'll need a new head!'
Swalloing hard, the checker tried to compose himself.
"Sir, may I see your ticket...please?" he asked meekly.
The glare remained for a few seconds, the a low rumble echoed through the small room:
"Sure. Here ya go."
"Sam! Sammy, get your butt down here, before I have to come to get you!"
The yelling could be heard until here at the porch door, where he stood.
It took all he had, not to barge into the tiny house and rip everything apart.
Calming himself with a few deep breaths, he closed the distance between the battered
picket fence and the front door with three long strides.
Somehow, it was the longest walk of his life.
Again, the woman's loud voice pierced his ears, and the fist, he held posed for
knocking, trembled with barely controlled rage.
'Breath, man, breath, don't do something, you'd regret later.' he thought by himself.
Gently, he pounded on the the door, nonetheless causing the whole cottage to shake miserably.
"..I swear, sometimes you are nearly too much trouble, even for me!"
Stomping feet came closer, then the door was thrown open and a middle-aged, weary looking
woman barked:
"Yes, what do..you..wa..oh..oh god, no, no!"
Tired, blue eyes widened in recognition and shock, and he tried to put up his most
reassuring face, when he said:
"Good day, Ma'am, I have come to visit Sa-"
"He's not here!" she yelled, slamming the door shut.
Tilting his head back, he slowly counted to one hundred, took a deep breath, and
knocked again.
Again, the door opened, this time more hesitantly, allowing the woman to barely peek outside.
"What do you want from me? I already told you, Sammy' s not here!"
She tried to push the door closed, but one giant, brawny hand held against her and kept it open.
Sighing, he tried again:
"Ma'am, please, you know, that this door would not stop me, but I'm really only here
to visit Sammy, because I-"
"Cain?"
Two sets of blue eyes flew to the staircase, where a maybe ten-years-old boy with a
fish-like head stood, staring at the goliath on his doorstep.
"Sammy."
Until this moment, Marko had never thought , he was capable of whispering.
And then Sam broke into an open run, evaded his mother's grasp and flung himself into
the strong arms of Cain Marko.
And the man, who had spent a better part of his life as Juggernaut, laughed with all the
joy and pride of a roving father, who is welcomed home by his admiring son.
########################################################################################
Hope, this was not to cheesy, but I really had to get it out of my system...
Story takes place short after UXM #422, and is a kind of a spin-off.
Disclaimer: Marvel can kiss my-err, it all belongs to them. No need to sue.
Reviews: A good word on the way for yours truly, perhaps?
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Going north and coming home
"Tickets, please, from NY central, tickets, going to Boston, Portland, Montréal,
Edmonton, tickets-thank you, Ma'am, Sir, tickets.."
It was a quiet evening on the train, and the few people riding it, where too tired
to make much of a ruckus.
Or so the controller thought.
He reached the next covet, still repeating his mantra.
"Tickets, please, tick-"
The bulky man in the single booth slowly turned his head, and the expression in his
piercing, steel-blue eyes read:
'Bug me, and you'll need a new head!'
Swalloing hard, the checker tried to compose himself.
"Sir, may I see your ticket...please?" he asked meekly.
The glare remained for a few seconds, the a low rumble echoed through the small room:
"Sure. Here ya go."
"Sam! Sammy, get your butt down here, before I have to come to get you!"
The yelling could be heard until here at the porch door, where he stood.
It took all he had, not to barge into the tiny house and rip everything apart.
Calming himself with a few deep breaths, he closed the distance between the battered
picket fence and the front door with three long strides.
Somehow, it was the longest walk of his life.
Again, the woman's loud voice pierced his ears, and the fist, he held posed for
knocking, trembled with barely controlled rage.
'Breath, man, breath, don't do something, you'd regret later.' he thought by himself.
Gently, he pounded on the the door, nonetheless causing the whole cottage to shake miserably.
"..I swear, sometimes you are nearly too much trouble, even for me!"
Stomping feet came closer, then the door was thrown open and a middle-aged, weary looking
woman barked:
"Yes, what do..you..wa..oh..oh god, no, no!"
Tired, blue eyes widened in recognition and shock, and he tried to put up his most
reassuring face, when he said:
"Good day, Ma'am, I have come to visit Sa-"
"He's not here!" she yelled, slamming the door shut.
Tilting his head back, he slowly counted to one hundred, took a deep breath, and
knocked again.
Again, the door opened, this time more hesitantly, allowing the woman to barely peek outside.
"What do you want from me? I already told you, Sammy' s not here!"
She tried to push the door closed, but one giant, brawny hand held against her and kept it open.
Sighing, he tried again:
"Ma'am, please, you know, that this door would not stop me, but I'm really only here
to visit Sammy, because I-"
"Cain?"
Two sets of blue eyes flew to the staircase, where a maybe ten-years-old boy with a
fish-like head stood, staring at the goliath on his doorstep.
"Sammy."
Until this moment, Marko had never thought , he was capable of whispering.
And then Sam broke into an open run, evaded his mother's grasp and flung himself into
the strong arms of Cain Marko.
And the man, who had spent a better part of his life as Juggernaut, laughed with all the
joy and pride of a roving father, who is welcomed home by his admiring son.
########################################################################################
Hope, this was not to cheesy, but I really had to get it out of my system...