Crossroad
Pairing: Victor/Anita
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Victor makes a dark promise and a deal he might regret.
Author's note: This is a slightly darker version of our characters, with angst. Just so you know.
xXx
Victor hadn't expected much difficulty, at least no more than usual. The Chef was vulnerable on his left side, if he concentrated on hitting that he'd have a chance at dismantling his mechanical right arm, the one that held weapons ranging from butcher knives to egg beaters.
What Victor hadn't counted on was the Chef's hatred for Anita, how it added strength to his already obscene power. Victor would never forget the moment, how it seemed to go in slow motion - Anita's slim body snatched up, then flung like a rag doll at the wall. The sickening 'crunch' of bone against metal and the way she lay there, limp and unmoving.
He heard a blood-curdling scream. It took a minute to realize it was his own and the rest followed as a furious blur - him against the Chef. When it was done, the Chef was minus one mechanical arm, the rest of him pinned beneath his own canning machine, immobile until the other agents came to drag him away.
Victor was long gone before then. With Anita cradled in his arms, he raced back to the base where on the third floor the medics waited, having been alerted by Anita's status button on her belt, which sent preliminary diagnostics on any injury suffered by an agent. It was glowing with a fire red light, which only made Victor fly faster, murmuring words of comfort to Anita's unconscious form.
"We're almost there," he said hoarsely. "Hang on, Anita. Soon ..."
There was blood dripping from her ears, which he forced himself to believe wasn't so bad. Nothing a little medication and rest couldn't fix. She had to be okay ... she just had to be.
The medical staff surrounded Anita immediately, going to work in seconds. Victor stood back, helpless, his heart in his throat as they checked her ears, her eyes before inserting yards of various tubes. One of the staff took out an electric razor and Anita's long, beautiful hair began to drift to the floor in thick bunches, even as they rolled her into base's operating theater, two stainless steel doors slamming shut behind them.
Victor stared at the doors for a long time, his world tilting in surreal directions. Slowly, he sank to his haunches, breathing hard. He stared at a thick lock of strawberry blond hair at his feet, running his finger along the curl before picking it up gingerly.
Taking a seat, he held the hair lock between his fingers, running a thumb over its silk, the clock ticking away a second at a time.
xXx
continued in Chapter Two
Note: This story is completed. I'll be posting a chapter every day or so until it's all up.
Reviews are very much appreciated. If you read this and enjoyed it, please let me know.