Greetings from The Lady Mage! Read, enjoy, review!
Legalities: I promise, if I did own Sabretooth . . . *drool* . . . well, you'd never see my ass on here ever again! But *sigh* here I am, so I guess he isn't mine . . . yet. I'm still scouring eBay!
FERITY: (fehr-ih-tee) - (noun) - 1. The state of being wild, untamed. 2. Savagery; ferocity.
RECAP:
She could smell the liquid- see it in her mind- and knew she was being put in the tank. Her mind burned with the realization, pumping out as much anesthetizing hormones as they could, not knowing that no amount of adrenalin could make her able to move- it only kept her blood from clotting so she bled more. She felt a sharp prick in her shoulder, then another in the vein on her forearm. Needles. Her skin crawled; her brain continued to scream.
Her lungs quickly healed, reinflating, and she drew in a light, painful, shuddering breath.
'No . . let me die . . . please . . . just let me die . . .'
". . . six hours . . ."
". . . it will heal . . ."
The water was cold- it was always so cold- when they lowered her naked body in.
'NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!'
"NO! NE PAS ME LAISSER SE NOYER!"
The feral jerked up on the bed. The scream from her lungs had startled even herself. Her black eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, seeing through the shadows, looking for the men in green jackets- looking for the regen-tank. Her heart was racing, her blood rushing loudly in her ears. The blanket and sheet was a shredded mess under her clenched hands.
It took a few seconds for her to recognize the sound of a baby's cry, and she jerked again, whipping to the side, looking down to Sari beside her. The cub's face was bright red as she cried out, scared, confused. The feral mother snatched up the baby, holding her tightly to her chest, thanking the stars she hadn't hurt the innocent cub. She drew as much comfort from her newborn as she gave to her, shoving the torn covers back from her legs.
"Sari," she murmured softly, cuddling the cub to her chest "Je suis desole . . La maman est desolee qu'elle vous ait effraye. (I'm sorry. Mama is sorry she scared you.)" She kissed the top of Sari's head, gently rocking her. "Je ne vous blessarais jamais. (I would never hurt you.)"
The bedroom door slammed open, and she jumped again as Jean, Scott, and Ororo all appeared there. They were breathless, disheveled, standing in her doorway in their pajamas. She growled at them- a deep, low warning. Sari went silent and still in her arms- feral instinct.
"Are you alright?" Jean asked, a hand over her heart.
"Why did you scream?" Scott asked, his voice mildly annoyed, fingers still lingering near the button on his glasses.
The feral didn't answer them, only leveled the man with a glare for a few seconds before turning back to her cub. Sari was far more important; she finally cut the growl off and settled the baby against her breast. The strap of her tank was shrugged off, and the baby held to nurse.
Noticing the state of the bed, Ororo stepped into the room, and almost jumped back into the hall when the girl's head whipped up to see who had moved closer. Zosia's eyes were pitch black, and hard as a rock- just like Sabre- The eyes immediately softened back to their midnight blue, the feral's expression becoming almost needy for a few seconds. Before she could fully examine the emotion in them, Zoe had put her eyes back down to Sari in her arms.
"Your blanket." Ororo said softly, her voice gentle and motherly. She came to the foot of the bed, gesturing to the ragged blankets. "Are you alright?"
"Je vais bien. (I am fine.)" Zoe answered, her voice a hiss. She peripherally watched the white-haired woman come to her side of the bed, stopping as soon as the feral began to lean away.
In the hallway, Jean gave Scott a gentle push towards the stairs. "Scott, go back to bed. It's alright." He resisted, but let her direct him away from the threatened girl and cub, leading him back down the hallway.
"Je suis . . " Zoe managed a whisper without the hiss, just loud enough for Ororo to hear her. "I am sorry . . for the couverture." Without the other two teachers there, she looked up to the windrider. "For waking you."
Ororo gave her a soft smile. "It's okay. We have other blankets." she said, daring another step closer. When the girl didn't lean away, she carefully approached the bed. "Its Saturday- no classes in the morning. No problem." She bent over and lifted the girl's cape from the side of the bed where it had fallen, and took it to the rocking chair. After she put it over the back of the chair, she came back to the girl's bedside. "Are you sure you are alright, Zosia? Is the baby alright?"
"Yes, Mlle." whispered the girl. Her free hand was tangled in her necklace, rubbing the two tags together, her own claws pricking into her skin.
"You're cutting yourself, sweetheart." Ororo said, watching a streak of blood travel its way down Zoe's breastbone. The girl glanced down at the blood, and absently wiped it away with her fingers as she pulled her claws from her skin. "Why don't you take the baby and rock her in the chair for a bit?" she asked, gesturing to the rocker. "I'll remake your bed while you put her back to sleep. How's that, hmm?"
The young-looking feral watched her for a moment, searching the windrider's face and eyes for hostility. When she found none, only the curious scent of understanding, she gave a curt nod. She swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Holding her nursing daughter to her chest, she stood, dressed only in her pink tanktop and a pair of black boyshort panties. As the girl sat down in the rocking chair, curling up, snuggling into the fur cape there, Jean came back into the room with a new blanket and sheets from the linen closet down the hallway. She helped Ororo pull away the ruined bedding, looking up when Ororo paused at the girl's pillow. Beneath the girl's pillow was a little square polaroid picture. She watched Ororo pick it up, examining it.
"What is it?" Jean asked softly.
Ororo shook her head, carrying the picture over to the girl in the rocking chair. Zoe was turned, her cape around her, her attention soley on the baby at her breast. She only tilted her head towards the woman as she walked closer. "Here, Zosia." Ororo said, handing her the picture. "Wouldn't want to lose this."
"Merci, moka." Zosia murmured, her thumb touching Ororo's as she pulled the picture into her lap. "Merci." She watched her return to the bedding, ignoring Jean's curious expression as she tucked the photo under her thigh, out of sight.
It only took the two women a few minutes to have the bed remade, and the pillows re-cased. Jean put the pillows at the head of the bed, and turned down the blanket and sheets. "Why did you yell out, Zosia?" she asked softly, tossing the ruined bedding in the hamper to be dealt with later. When she received only silence, she turned her head to the girl. Zoe was curled in the rocker, eyes only for Sari as she rocked. The telekine couldn't help but smile, watching them.
The windrider turned her eyes to the girl as well, following Jean's line of sight. "Zoe? Why did you yell out?" she asked. This time, the girl looked up, meeting Ororo's eyes. The dark blue depths were still half dilated black.
"J'ai reve . . I dreamt." was the quiet answer.
"A bad dream?" asked Jean. Silence. The telekine scowled, looking to Ororo. The windrider shrugged lightly, giving the girl a concerned look. 'What was the picture of?'
'The girl . . and Sabretooth.' Ororo's eyes went back to the bed. 'He was holding her while she slept. Anyone but him, and I would think it was a sweet picture.'
'Sabretooth holding her?' Jean looked mildly surprised.
"Did you have a bad dream, Zoe?" Ororo asked aloud. "A nightmare?"
". . . Yes." The feral let out a sigh, meeting Ororo's blue eyes. "I'm not used to . . . well, sleeping alone. Je me rappelle des choses quand je dors. (I remember things when I sleep.)" She leaned her head to rest back against the back of the chair.
"Used to sleeping next to Sabretooth, huh?" asked Jean, coming to stand next to Ororo. She felt like rolling her eyes when the girl ignored her again. Reading the girl's mind- what she could decipher of the strange emotions instead of worded thoughts- she couldn't find anything that told her the girls disliked her, or distrusted her. It was like she barely recognized her as being present. 'But why is she ignoring me?'
"I bet it is strange to sleep alone after so long next to Sari's father." Ororo murmured, coming to stand next to the chair. The girl only tilted her head slightly to hear her.
"Mein Lehrer . . Eric . . they never left me to sleep alone- not after my first few nights." The girl smiled a little smile, and Jean could feel the trust for the windrider in the girl's mind. "Myst- she took pity on me and let me sleep in her room. Until I moved to Victor's room, she always sat with me until I fell asleep."
"Are you afraid of being alone?"
"I don't think so." Zoe shook her head with an amused snort. "But when I sleep alone . . " Her eyes darkened again, but didn't go black. "I remember things . . things better left forgotten."
"You dream about how you acquired those tags around your neck." It was a statement, intuitively known fact. Ororo shifted her eyes back to Jean.
"Yes, mon moka." The mother gently separated the baby from her skin. After a short cuddle, she put the newborn to her other side to continue her meal. "Ma petite fille . . my precieuse enfant . ." she whispered to Sari, holding the baby's tiny hand in her own.
"All done." Jean said with fake cheer, moving to the door to leave.
"Merci." Zoe looked up at the redhead, acknowledging her. She offered a small smile, and Jean returned it with a nod.
"I'm going to go check on Scott." Jean turned to Storm. "You coming?"
The windrider met her eyes. "I'm going to stay here for a minute, and help her settle."
"Alright. Goodnight, you two."
"Bonne nuit, Telekine." Zoe said, her voice almost friendly. She could smell the woman's emotions, and the little hints of distrust, jealousy, desolation, especially that brief flash of rage, had not gone unnoticed. It wasn't as though she could help her feelings- her instincts. That last ping of emotion had only reinstated what they told her. Telepaths were nearly always trouble- this one more than most.
Ororo moved to take a seat at the foot of the bed, tucking her hair behind her ears. She gestured to the baby in Zoe's arms. "I wonder how the Brotherhood reacted to her."
It brought a small smile back to her lips to think on it. "They were happy for us." she answered, looking up to the woman. "Why does my picture make your heart jump?"
"Hmm?" Ororo asked, her eyebrows raising.
"The picture." She pulled it from beneath her leg, holding it up where Ororo could see it. "I heard your heart jump when you saw it. . . Not fear. Confusion? Why?"
"I just don't picture him as being . . The man in that photo does not match the man I have seen- they merely look the same."
"He is savage, yes- a beast. But he is like me: he is feline, he is feral. I can see through his ferocity, and past his rages, down to where he is Victor." she said softly. "Not just the beast, but the man."
"Do you love him?"
"Oui. Very much." The feral nodded, purring. "He and Sari- they are my heart."
"Does he love you?"
"Very much." She smirked again, but kept the expression light. "You don't believe me."
"I didn't say anything." Ororo shook her head, innocent.
"You don't have to say anything, mon moka. I can read your eyes. It seems strange to you that he should love anyone, does it not?" The girl only searched the windrider's eyes again for her answer. "He took such a terrible risk to bring us here, the baby and I. You could have attacked him, attacked us. You could have mortally wounded him- you could have killed us- but he stood before you a man, and asked for our safety. He knew we would not be safe with him, and because he loves us, he brought us here so that we would be safe."
Ororo only nodded, but seemed unconvinced. She watched as Zoe moved the now-sleeping cub up onto her shoulder, giving Ororo a perfect view of the sweet newborn as Zoe fixed her tank back. "She's a little doll, Zoe."
"Zee."
"Hmm?"
"Call me Zee." repeated the feral. "It's my nickname. Only my family calls me Zee." She slowly ceased her rocking, moving Sari, asleep now, down to the crook of her arms. The cub let out a heavy sigh in her slumber, and her mother smiled.
Secure the baby was sound asleep, the mother stood from the rocking chair. She smiled at Ororo as she walked past, laying the baby down on the bed next to the pillows. Her eyes glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 4:23. In another hour or so, Victor would be bedding down somewhere.
Without me.
"Are you tired enough to sleep again?" Ororo asked, watching Sari's chest rise and fall.
The feral visibly winced. "I don't think I'll sleep again this morning."
"You need your sleep, Zee." argued Ororo gently.
Zosia smiled at the nickname. "I will survive."
The windrider was quiet for a few moments, watching Zee pull an intact blue tank top from her leather bag to replace the pink shredded one she wore. She looked to the door, the clock, the bed beneath her, and back. Finally, she met the girl's eyes. "Would you like me to sit with you?" she offered. "Will it help you to sleep?"
Zosia's expression was indecisive, almost scowling, and seemed embarrassed for a few seconds. "I don't want to inconvenience you, mon moka." she finally said, shaking her head. "You do not have to stay with me." She turned her back to Ororo and quickly changed her tanks.
"Well, did you not just say that you would sleep better with someone in here with you?" Ororo asked. When the girl nodded, turning back, she continued. "Then I will sit with you. You have a daughter to care for; you need all the rest you can get, Zee."
"You feel safe here?" The midnight blue of her eyes darkened the tiniest bit, and she cocked her head to the side, watching Ororo closely. "Alone, asleep?"
The weather witch raised one eyebrow. "Am I not?"
The feral tipped just the tiniest bit, her lips hardly twitching, but her eyes seeming to lighten back up. She nodded once, shutting the bedroom door. "Do you fear the dark, mon moka, mon 'Ro?"
"No." answered the woman, moving to sit at the head of the bed. She blinked when Zoe flicked off the light, casting them in almost-pitch blackness. The little nightlight in the bathroom was just bright enough to throw shadows across the room. She could just make out the darkness moving as the girl silently slunk back to the bed, startling the windrider when she was suddenly beside her like a ghost in a horror film.
"Tis only I, mon cher." Zoe whispered with a purr. She pulled back the blanket, and watched Ororo settle down beneath. With her laid down and settled, the feral moved to cuddle her cub, sitting against the headboard. "Good night, mon moka." she purred.
"Aren't you going to lay down?"
"Yes- in a moment. It takes me a little while to resettle." She resisted the urge to cuddle up to the woman, wondering what it was that made her feel so at ease- why her instinct said there wasn't any reason to not trust her. She had been careful in the lab, passive and harmless, when she had allowed her to look at Sari. No scent on her told the feral she was dangerous to be around, or that she should be on guard around her, and yet, she was finding it hard to relax.
Mystique had been the same, if not easier to accept. One or two conversations had told her that the metamorph was cynical but not unwilling to welcome another sibling to the cause. In fact, she'd seemed rather pleased that there was another female around. Three days after her arrival, she and Mystique were already beginning to be thick as thieves. Despite her ferity, Zosia felt she must be naturally accepting or others. Her brother had been harder to get to know. He was always teasing and joking, purposefully being a royal pain in the ass to distract away from himself. He didn't let people see what was under his green skin, but Zosia could sense who he was. And Victor . . . well, he was just Victor. It was almost like looking into a mirror and realizing that all the things she did on blind instinct- all the feral cues she hadn't noticed herself doing- had meant something. There was a whole unspoken language she didn't know she was fluent in until she'd met him.
Beside her, Ororo's breathing was beginning to even out. 'She must be very tired to fall asleep so easily in my company.' With the other woman there, Zosia felt a little better but was still a little afraid to try to sleep again. Afraid more memories would come in her dreams. With a sigh, she scooted down to lay, putting Sari in between herself and Ororo, and pulling the blankets up over them.
She wondered to herself why she couldn't remember things like Victor did. He'd not told her much, but he had told her that he remembered his whole life, and his whole experience with the mysterious Weapon X program. If she remembered like he did, maybe she could process it all out and the horrible nightmares would stop. Why had she forgotten everything? How had she forgotten everything? Victor had told her- every time she asked- that it was better not to go digging up the past. Better left forgotten. If she'd been made to forget, there was damn good reason- what they had done to her had been something horrible.
'Like fight to the death in the ring? Drown over and over in the tank?'
Maybe they had experimented on her; Cut her apart and sewn her back together again. Maybe they had used her to study healing. Maybe they had used her to study bloodlines- not to make mutants stronger, but to make sure that they destroyed those that would breed strong. Thin the herd a bit?
Did she have family left somewhere that she couldn't remember? A mother and father? Was she taken in the night to be an experiment or had she been born into the program? How old was she? She looked like a human teenager- with makeup she could make herself look at least like she was legal but not legal enough to even get into a bar. Some ferals don't age past a certain point and some aged terribly slow- their lifetimes surpassing generations and generations of humans. Which was she?
Why did Victor become angry when she asked him about it? Was he trying to protect her? Or was there something about it all that bothered him deeply, too?
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The Lady Mage