Hey all, it's It's-A-Passion and DancerOfDanger here, collaborating with this story 'An Endless Fate'. Anyway, we'll be writing alternate chapters from our own characters points of view. Ava is my (It's-A-Passion) character so this first chapter is mine, and Alexis is DancerOfDanger 's character so her chapter's coming up! We hope you like them! Oh, and it's and Warren/OC and Logan/OC story.
Most people spend their whole lives without really truly knowing what it is to love another human being so totally and completely, with nothing familial about it. Just passionate and all-consuming that sets skin a-blaze and hearts a-flutter. To love everything about that person, the good and bad, perfections and flaws, to love it all. It's a wonder that that kind of love can leave a person with enough room in their heart for anything or anyone else.
Romantic novels talk about it all the time; the eternal love, helpless pining, unrestrained passion that suddenly explodes on the pages when a boy meets a girl, and unexpectedly the stars align and they know. They know that's the person they'll love like nothing and no one else, that's the person who they have to be with. And with it comes the sudden profound realization that something had been missing from their lives, but they never realized until then. Fate, it seemed, wanted them to be together and the universe agreed.
But I didn't believe in that crap.
The only things I believed in were certainties; life and death. You were born, you lived and then you died, and that's it. Everything in between; wealth, prestige, love, were just ideologies thought up by someone hundreds of thousands of years ago that the contemporary world had yet to figure out is fake and meaningless. Anything else was just a load of crock, cooked up by the marketing industry to manipulate us into thinking we needed love, that it was one big thing of life that happened to everyone. Then of course, it had to be just a coincidence that they profited from turning everyone into loved up fools.
My sister, well, half-sister, Alexis, called me cynical. I liked to think of it as being realistic.
"Ava…" Alexis said softly from beside me. I glanced at her to see her biting her lip in worry, a pucker between her elegant eyebrows.
"It'll be okay," I said automatically, attempting to reassure her. Sometimes it felt like I knew her better than I knew myself. I knew what she was worried about; people not liking her. It was a ridiculous assumption because nobody could meet my little sister without falling in love with her in some way.
A gentle breeze rushed up past us as we trudged up the annoyingly steep hill to where the mansion sat. The air smelt clean and fresh as it ruffled our hair. "How can you be so sure?" she sighed, tucking a large section of her silvery-fair hair behind her ear, though it quickly fell away. Her hair seemed to buzz with life as it swayed about in thin, impossibly straight strands.
My sister was unearthly beautiful; she reminded me of a flower and I had no difficulty believing that maybe she was made out of them. Her pale silver hair was like corn silk; fine and shimmering. Her features were delicate and she moved with a willowy grace of movement that made her pretty to watch, like she was floating on air. Most of the time, I just worried she'd be blown away in the wind.
In complete contrast to her, I was earthier, voluptuous, curved. My hair was thick and glossy, as dark as a night with no moon, bouncing down my back in long, voluminous, wild curls. It didn't behave and I didn't try to tame it.
I grinned at her encouragingly, though I hardly felt in the mood to, "Alexis," I began, "I'm your older sister, which means I'm always right." I got a tiny smile from her in reply, not a full one, so I changed tactics. "Have I ever given you reason to not trust me?"
"No," she admitted reluctantly.
"So trust me now," I told her, cutting the conversation short. Her worrying was pointless. Alexis cared about people in a way that was more than sympathy and more than compassion, it was like perfect love. She didn't have to worry about making friends because her heart was open, no walls or barriers or shields to separate her from others. It was hard for people to hate such sincerity.
And if it was up to me, I'd do anything to keep her that way. She trusted me explicitly, and as the older sister, it was my duty to keep her safe, especially when she couldn't do it herself; I took care of everything not because I felt obligated by familiar ties, but because I was fiercely protective of her. It was in her nature to trust people, and it was in my nature to be suspicious. I was as different to her as night from day.
Irritated, I pushed masses of thick, midnight black, unruly curls back behind me in defiance of the increasing wind, my steely grey eyes, like captured smoke, sweeping over the grounds. I don't know what I expected to find; maybe some sign that this place wasn't safe after all, that we'd travelled so far for no reason, that this place was a threat, dangerous. Lately, it felt like I was always on guard, almost like I was expecting something to happen.
I guess that's what happened when you were being hunted by Magneto.
I reached up, rubbing the Yin and Yang pendent around my throat between my fingers, which described us so perfectly. Apparently Chinese philosophy had us pegged; seemingly contrary forces that are interconnected and interdependent on each other in the natural world.
See, I literally had the power of death. I was the freaking grim reaper, Thantos, harbinger of doom, daughter of darkness, whatever; anyone I touched would be at my mercy – I can take away life, take away that vitality that flowed through peoples veins, I could make people sick, a debilitating sick, I could make them suffer a slow, painful death. The end result was the same; death. My sister was the benign counterpart to my dark gift; she had the power to give life, to resurrect, to heal and cure and make stronger. She was life and I was death, and we had to stick together.
We neared the mansion that was also known as Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. My shoulders were tensed as I took it in. I was so tired, so exhausted from running and hiding, that I just wanted to stop and rest; I wanted this place to be safe, but I couldn't let my personal bias stop me from thinking about this objectionably. If Alexis wouldn't be safe here, we wouldn't be staying. But God knew I was sick of running.
The grounds were large and relatively well kept; plenty of trees, which may not be a good thing considering they're a hiding place I couldn't see into. The mansion itself was massive, which must have been there for years considering the amount of ivy crawling along the weathered bricks.
Cautiously, I reached out and pounded on the wooden door, ignoring the knocker positioned right in front of me.
A girl who couldn't be older than Alexis opened the door, a smile on her face, "Hi, I'm Kitty, well, Katherine, but I prefer Kitty. What can I do for you?"
"I'm Ava, that's my sister Alexis," I gestured to my side. "I want to speak to whoever's in charge." I didn't elaborate or explain, I just waited patiently.
Behind her, a deep, gruff and kind of unwelcoming voice spoke up, "That would be me. Logan," he reluctantly offered his name. The voice belonged to a man, much bigger than me, who was muscled and kind of foreboding. Beside me, Alexis' eyes got wider and she took a tiny step back, but her features softened and her lips parted slightly. I frowned, squaring my body.
"Great," I grinned dangerously, to show him he didn't frighten me and if it came down to it, he shouldn't underestimate me.
"What do you want?" he growled at me and I looked at him, annoyed. Who put him in charge? Words like uncouth and brutality ran through my mind.
I stepped inside, which wasn't entirely my best idea, but I did have to speak with him anyway. People were gathering now, and if I was a dog, my hackles would be rising right about now. There were a lot of people, mainly kids, but nonetheless we were outnumbered; it was us against them at the moment, and I didn't like our odds, though no one had presented themselves as a threat just yet. I was exhausted and tense and so painfully alert for anything and everything, that it was hard to do everything all at once.
"My sister and I," Alexis spoke up behind me, surprising me slightly. She looked Logan dead in the eye, pinning her with her own black eyes, as black as my hair. I always found it ironic we had each other's hair and eye colouring's, though they were swapped, even though we had different mothers. Well, they did same the mutant gene was passed from the father, so it must be a part of our mutations, "We heard this was a safe place for mutants. A safe place from the world. Is that true?"
"It is," a voice said, directly behind me and he startled me, throwing me into a panic. No one should be behind me; I didn't see anyone move that way, and no one should be blocking the door, the only escape route I knew. This may be a safe place for mutants, but that didn't mean it was a safe place from other mutants as well; anyone of these kids and teachers could be working with Magneto. Some would call that being paranoid. I called it being cautious.
I spun around to assess this new voice, but he was closer than I expected and my hand brushed his bare arm. And then I felt that pull somewhere in my gut as an invisible rope tethered between us, latching on to his life force, the ball of pure energy in his chest, and started to drain it.
"Fuck," I panicked, trying desperately to stop it. Even though I wasn't touching him anymore, it didn't matter; it was enough, and in my emotional state, my 'gift' was a lot harder to get a handle on.
"Ava!" Alexis' voice was high, verging on hysteria.
He swallowed, his face paling of any colour, going as white as a sheet. His knees got weaker and he crumpled to the ground, his eyes blank and covered in a milky film, his limbs unmoving. Everywhere was chaos, kids were screaming and backing up, one or two dropped down beside the dead man, and the one who claimed to be in charge released a set of dangerously sharp looking claws from his hands, as he lunged at me, and I dived to the side, dodging him narrowly.
"Don't touch me!" I shouted at Logan. It's not what I wanted, I didn't mean to do it. He ignored me anyway, lunging again, a snarling blur of rage, and just as he was about to hit me, another man collided with him, sending them flying off in the other direction. This other man was muscled too, and I had no doubt he was strong and physically fit, but against Logan, who was huge, I didn't know how well he'd fare.
"Don't be stupid," he shouted at Logan who was growling, his claws glinting dangerously. "You'll end up dead too, no matter how tough you think you are!"
I glanced over at Alexis, who was staring at the dead man, ignorant to what was happening right beside her, so focused on his form. I knew she felt that pull inside her to go to him, to help, to heal. It was a compulsion for her, to just help like that. I was sure the only reason she didn't automatically go to him was because of me, and what I'd drummed into her over the years.
I couldn't take her anywhere that sick or hurt or injured or dead people might be, because she'd want to help. I couldn't let her, for two reasons; it took a lot out of her – with my power, I took their life, with her power she had to give a little of her life to heal them, and it took a lot out of her, so I wouldn't let her weaken herself. And secondly, because there was a balance in the universe that we couldn't disrupt; it wasn't our job to go around either ending life or giving it. But right now, it was different.
"Do it," I shouted at her, as the man in charge threw the blonde man off him and charged at me again. That was all the push she needed. I hoped to God I'd pulled my power back in, got it under control enough, as I ducked his vicious swing, eyeing his claws, and sunk a punch right onto his jaw, followed closely by a knee into his solar plexus. He grunted, doubling slightly, but he was back up in a matter of seconds. Jesus, who was this guy? My hand and knee throbbed. What the hell was he taking to be so beefed up?
His hand snuck out, aiming for my gut and I jumped back, falling to the ground and just before he could land on me, I scrambled back up, backing away. My eyes flittered around for Alexis, to see if she was alright. Her hands were placed gently against the sides of the dead man's face, her eyes closed as she concentrated. Her hair seemed to vibrate, and then dim slightly, as she crumpled forward over the dead man's form. Except, he wasn't dead anymore. He was blinking rapidly, looking no worse for wear. He looked remarkably fine for a guy who'd just been dead.
"Alexis!" I shouted, going to her.
A large hand wrapped around my small wrist, pulling me back, and his other hand came up, pointing his claws right under my throat, pressing in slightly and drawing a little blood. I could feel the warm liquid slowly drip down my throat. His blue eyes were a storm of anger.
"Logan, don't!" the man from before shouted, blonde hair catching a stray ray of light, making it shine.
I yanked forward on the arm that was griping mine, leaning my neck out of the way of his claws and bringing my leg up, sending a hard roundhouse kick into the side of his head. I pushed back on his face with my foot, tilting his head back and managing to slide my arm free, the claws dragging along my flesh just under my elbow. I winced and quickly got myself out of his range.
The blonde man sent a punch to the side of Logan's head. He was sporting a rapidly bruising chin himself, but he took Logan on despite it. Logan looked at him angrily and I heard the blonde man say, "Look!" from behind me as I reached Alexis, lifting her up, checking her pulse, and making sure she was breathing. Blood from my arm smeared on her shirt. The man who had been dead was looking around, very confused.
"What's going on?" he asked, putting a hand to his head.
"Scott?" Logan asked, unsure, frowning.
"Yeah, he's alive, jackass," I snapped at him. "If you'd waited just a minute, I could have explained that my sister could heal him."
Logan helped Scott up, frowning down at us.
"Is there a hospital wing, or medical lab around here somewhere? Where do the kids go when they're sick?" I asked tiredly.
Logan reached down and scooped her up, encompassing her small frame with his large arms easily, despite my protests and guttural warnings. I followed him, watching him closely, so closely that I was in danger of walking into things. When we got to the medical lab, he put her down on one of those uncomfortable bed things, and I double checked she was alright, before holding her hand.
The blonde man stood at the doorway, his clothes rumpled, hair disheveled, and a nice looking bruise blooming on his chin. I nodded at him, "Thanks." He nodded back before disappearing. Logan left not long after.
I perched on the edge of her bed, waiting. She shifted slightly, a small groan escaping her lips as she blinked at me.
"Ava…?"
I smiled, "You did good. He's fine." Lucky he hadn't been dead long otherwise she could have seriously injured herself. If that was a possibility, I wouldn't have encouraged her to do it.
She let out a low, long sigh, before spotting the cuts on my throat. She reached up with her other hand, the one not twisted with my fingers, but I grabbed it, bringing it back to rest on the bed. "Don't worry about that. It'll heal on its own. You get some rest," I told her gently, and she slowly closed her eyes, drifting into sleep.
She trusted me to look out for her, to watch over her. And I always would.
So, we hope you like this beginning to our story!
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