AN: For those sticking around or giving this a shot, welcome to the second chapter. I know Manchester Black isn't the most popular or well known so I don't expect this to be well read but oh well writing it anyhow. :P Keeping chapters fairly short and pumped out quickish because I'm pretty much typing stuff up between tasks. XD
"What the hell?" Missy's outrage was apparent before Black even made it in the door, one baby on her hip and two more children running through the house behind her. Missy was the ideal of matronly, all soft curves and a glare that could set a grown man straight from across the room. What she said, went, but you always knew it came from a place of love. Her long brown hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she never bothered with makeup after kid number two. Her time was better spent on other things.
"Marcos, come take your baby sister!" the oldest boy came when called, and did as he was told, smiling up at Manchester and eyeing the girl in his arms curiously.
"Sorry, wasn't sure where-" She cut him off quick, motioning him inside.
"Don't just stand there letting the warm air out, get in here. Lita? Get one of the blankets from the closet and lay it out on the couch. There's a good girl."
"Is she okay?" Marcos hung around as best he could before another command from his mother sent him reluctantly away to his room, taking his other little sisters with him.
"Put her in her crib and bring some extra clothes, okay Marcos?" He gave an obedient nod and Missy wasted no time taking the bundle of injured child from Manchester's arms.
"Jesus, I know you bring me the occasional stray, but what the hell is this?" The kids he brought her on occasion, those who didn't actually want to stay on the streets, he wasn't sure how she managed it but Missy always found them a place. Her own home had been a safe haven for the occasional wayward youth on more occasions than he could count. But then the kids he brought over were usually conscious. A bit worse for the ware, sure, but never this bad off. She set the girl down (he still didn't have a name for her) and hissed when she moved the t-shirt aside.
"Mostly clean at least, minus the bare feet." Marcos brought over some of the extra clothes and scuttled away at his mother's nod.
"I suspect trafficking. She's escaped, somehow. Mentioned more before she konked out." Missy paused, the gravity of the situation intense in her gaze upon him and voice turning to a hushed whisper.
"Trafficking? Chess, are you going into this alone?" he managed a laugh in the face of her concern,
"It's me, Luv, we both know what I can do."
"How do we know they won't have some kind of defenses against..."
"Against what? Something like me? There are no defenses against me." he was as brash and confident as ever, almost lighting up another cigarette before a single look from Missy reminded him not indoors. So instead it just sat between his lips. Missy set to work on getting their "guest" into fresh clothes and issued another command, general commander of the home.
"Go to the kitchen and fetch some water and something for her to eat. Better put on some porridge, might be all she can stomach." Like her children, Manchester knew better than to argue with Missy, but was yanked back with a, "Wait." the voice reflected the thought, confusion. Disbelief, perhaps. The over-sized t-shirt fell away from the girl's shoulder and back at a neck hole that was too large. Lines and lattice work of scars beneath it. It looked like...lash marks? No...she traced fingers over a more distinct set of three. Claw marks.
"Chess...how could anyone do this to a-" a sharp intake of breath, said child sprung back to life and clutched at the wrist connected to the hand that had been at her back. Panic, initially.
"Calm, calm down. It's okay. Yer safe." Manchester spoke up, hoping she'd remember his voice, as her dark eyes (no, darker than his, practically black), scanned the room and them. After a moment she let the grip on Missy's wrist go.
"I'm Missy," soothing maternal tones in an instant, "Do you have a name?" the child took several seconds, trying to figure out where she was.
"Adella. We have to help the others..." still to the point, and Manchester couldn't say he blamed her, if they were in as bad a way. She managed to get out, but she wasn't just going to run away or take care of herself. She had to get help and get back. She couldn't just leave them behind. Even after all they could only guess she had been through, she was more than willing to risk it if it could get the others out. She wasn't afraid. She was burning up with sheer will power.
"Alright Luv, we're going to do just that. And we're going to make the bad men who did this to you, and the others, pay for what they've done. I promise you. How's that sound?" Adella didn't smile. She said no thank you. She gave a stern nod that didn't belong on a face that young.
He remembered Vera, his baby sister. He remembered how she came along with him to the factory. She was still filled with enough innocence, a vacant smile on her face as he set to work. He started five minutes before they even went in, getting revenge on the people of the factory. The ones who had cost his sister her arms. She'd hesitated, still just pure enough to think that maybe they shouldn't do it. Here, in Adella, there was no hesitance. Only steely resolve.
"Honey, you need to hydrate and get some food in you. I have some extra clothes here-"
"We need to get the others." Missy buckled down,
"You're not going anywhere until you drink some water and put some food in your belly." Adella shrank back, and after a moment and a stomach rumbling, she gave a nod to agree. Missy rose to go to the kitchen, giving a sharp snap to Marcos as she went to get him to go back to looking after his sisters in their room. Manchester spoke telepathically, mostly so Missy couldn't overhear and object to anything.
"I tried finding the place you were kept in your memories. No Luck. Did you block it out? Do you know where we need to go?" she was silent and withdrawn for a long while, then slowly the words began to come to him. Small and timid even in thought.
"I got away. But I could re-trace my steps...I think..."
"If you can think those steps towards me-"
"I'm coming with."
"...you don't have to-"
"I'm coming with. I do have to."
"There's going to be a lot of blood. A lot of-"
"Good." they deserve it. She didn't have to think the words at him to know them. And he couldn't agree more.
"Alright. You come with." That seemed to satisfy her, as Missy returned with a glass of water and a sandwich, saying something about she could make porridge if that was easier. But Adella ate and drank quickly, almost choking once but correcting it herself, and the moment the plate was finished looked to Manchester.
"Can we go now?" Missy gave him a glare, but he held his hands up in mock unarmed surrender.
"I'm going." it held the same conviction, and even Missy just gave a sigh.
"Then at least change into some proper clothes, okay?" she handed Adella the dress, and with a nod she went to change in the bathroom.
"Chess, if anything else happens to that girl I'm holding you personally responsible." Missy was all glares, never one to be afraid of Manchester even after seeing what he was capable of. They were on the same side. She had her kids to look after. Neither of them wanted to see more children suffering who didn't have to. Even despite her glare the weary sentiment echoed across her words,
"Go get 'em. And put the bad guys in the ground where they belong."
"That's the plan, Luv."