Broken

AN: I'm hyper. (At the time I wrote this I was.) abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz (i can say that as a word, cause I'm special like that)

Disclaimer: Claiming to own things you don't is wrong. It's like, illegal or something.

CaptMacKenzie: Whoa, first. Long review. Second. I reread my chapters (and apart from some sp errors, srry everyone) I don't see what you mean. I'll be happy to fix it if you could tell me which chapter. I'm a bit biased. (it's my ego again)


Chapter eight (A cracked dream without a silver lining)

He found her asleep. He hadn't been expecting that. She looked so peaceful, despite the reddish-brown that stained her. She lay in a black and baby blue room. It was hers, it was so obvious that it was hers. The walls were bare, everything was barren. it should have looked like no one lived in it, but it didn't. She gave it life, gave it a life that was as empty as her own.

He'd have to move her. It wasn't safe here for her. Stephen West, the man who thought he was so far up, so much in charge. He wasn't. He ran this one small base in the nowhere-ness of Canada. True he had the most powerful weapon ever chanced upon at the company, but his superiors, for he did have them, they didn't know the true extent of the teens power. They thought her near harmless, a science experiment bound to cause nothing but frustration.

He knew better. He'd always known better. He always knew what a person was, their strengths, their weaknesses. He could see it all, but he could never tell. It was part of him. It was invisible, not a mark or a extra feature. He was perfectly ordinary. From the outside.

Inside he was not. His blood ran with the knowledge of what each person was. What they could and couldn't do. His secret, his curse, his gift. His mutation.

That's why Garret had to help her so badly. He could see her like no one else could. He'd ignored it the first time he'd ever seen her. It's why he was so quick to drop her in that cart. It didn't help, he'd still seen her.

He saw her broken and shattered, while others only saw a project, something to poke and prod at until it does something they didn't expect. Then there was Sarah. the poor woman, she was so cracked herself. She couldn't see past her own breaks, couldn't see the fissures in her daughter, her flesh. Instead, she saw a girl she in turns loved and feared. She loved the flesh, was terrified of the things it could do. Loved the mind, shied away from what it might think.

No, not even her own mother had truly loved her. She was too afraid of her. Too far away. He would be there for her, because he had too. He couldn't fix her, but he could help her find the one who could.

She needed to be whole, she was too unstable. He saw her three parts. A killer, a fighter, a lover. They were one and three. So mixed up they were separate.

Garret sighed. He gentle put his hand on her dirty back. Nothing. He rocked her, again gently. Still nothing.

He rolled her over and put his arms under her shoulders and knees. She weighed no more than she had last time he carried her. She was also just as blood soaked, more now actually.

So many dead. He'd had to let them die. Only one had he saved. The doorman. He hadn't known any better. He just thought she was some new guys kid. Stephen had never seen it as necessary to inform him of what really went on. The doorman was no idiot, but he'd learned not to pry, to forget whatever he thought he'd seen.

Garret had left his car door open, no use closing it, everyone was dead. He placed her in the seat and closed the door. He got in himself and drove to his apartment. If she didnt' kill him immediately after she woke up, he'd talk to her.

While he drove he thought of the times he'd spoken with her. She'd been bubbly and fake, like a teen sitcom or after-school special. They'd both known that the other known what was really going on. Yet neither could say it. So he'd just acted the part of nice stranger.

But he'd watched her. He knew her better from his observations than anything she had said to him. She was insane, but she knew it, tried to deal with it, hide it. He'd watched her take turns in personality. One time she had run into a girl. She'd helped the girl up and even picked up all the girls bags. Another time she had been in a store separated from Sarah, she'd shied away from every person even remotely near her. When one ventured to close, she snapped at them. Annoyed.

He'd watched her, avoided her, but she'd still seek him out. He'd not gotten over his fear of what she could do, not then.

Now, now he was. Somehow, with her asleep in his car beside him, after knowing she's killed so many, he can't be afraid of her.

She's broken and more than a little devastated. This could tear apart the healing she'd started. Losing Sarah. The only one that had ever seemed to care about her.

She was strong in every sense but one. Her mind was weak. To shattered to be healthy.

Garret could think of only one person who could help her. He was so far away, but he'd take her there if he had to drug her.

Westchester. It would be a long drive. And a lot of drugs.


We've been moved.

I know Laura. I can feel it.

Do you smell anything?

You'd know if I did. And no.

Jeez, Lexa. No need to be snappy.

. . .

Too much blood, I get it.

Cause you don't smell anything either.

We should have at least washed our face before we collapsed.

Funny, I didn't hear you mention it when we hobbled around.

Oh, shut up. Your making me the nice one. I'm sorry, okay.

Me too. Anyway. Who do you think moved us?

Um, didn't X-23 kill everyone.

Well, yeah. That's why she let go.

Then who's moving us?!

Calm down. We'll find out once the body wakes up.

Control?

You had it before, before, . . .

Before we left our bedroom to find Sarah dead and bleeding while some crap bag stood over her.

No need to be graphic.

Nowhere near graphic baby.

Oh shut up Laura. All I was saying was that, I don't think we need . . .

Shh, shut up shut up. Feel that?

The body's waking up.

So who?

Um, you do it. I'm worse with people.

You are, we always confused Sarah.

Shh, too soon.

Don't cry.

Right back at you, bub.

I'll try.


They opened their eyes to a strange place they'd never been before. They were staring at the ceiling, it was white, with a huge white fan.

Laura sat up, ignoring the faint feeling the blood rushing down gave her. Around her was all white, but not the clinical hospital white the lab had been. This was white like the person living here wasn't settled in. Or like they couldn't pick a colour.

"Hey, your up." A voice she knew said. Laura turned to see Garret. "Well, cat's outta the bag now huh? I know what you are and you know I had to guard you. Simply really." He said with fake cheer.

"You washed my face." Laura says, cause she noticed that she can smell things.

"A little, it can't be pleasant to smell blood continuously." He said.

"It's not." Laura said. Somehow, she was perfectly calm. She even felt like she could be a little bubbly. Maybe it was the sight of him. She was so used to being bubbly around him, it was actually a little hard not to bounce and twirl.

"You want to get cleaned up?" he asks. Laura just nods. "Bathroom's that way. First door on the left. Oh, and here's your bag." He hands her a backpack Sarah had bought her. "I filled it with some of your clean clothes." He answered before she could ask. Laura just nods, takes the bag, and heads off to the bathroom.

"Weird." She whispers under her breath. Still, she can't help but be happy. A minute ago she was heartbroken, now she was giddy. Maybe they were more messed up than they'd thought. It was actually a scary thought.