Nine
Chase

When she woke, she found herself on a back of a covered truck. Vega was still out cold, and she seemed to vaguely remember waking to him causing another commotion before that sweet feeling entered her lungs again. She didn't know if that had been a dream or not. The sky was still somewhat dim and overcast with fat clouds that threatened to open up at any moment, early morning.

She shivered a little against the cool air. Funny, she hadn't felt the physical effects of the weather on her body since she lost her powers for that brief moment in time. Her connection to weather went beyond the physical. She felt the weather changes, just like any other person, but her body adjusted to the weather, rather than fighting against it. She shivered again. Her heart quickened. Had she lost her powers again? Had the collar finally sapped her of everything she held sacred?

Across from her she saw Victor Creed sitting as still as a statue, his eerie eyes narrowing in her direction, and she shifted just a little further away from him. You never could tell what was on his mind, and if there was ever anyone that Ororo though had more of a violent streak than Vega, it was Sabretooth. Vega stirred at her side, finally coming to, and she ripped her eyes away from Creed to inspect the chains that bound her hands and feet.

One of the greatest thieves in the world had trained her—and trained her well—in the art of thievery and finding ways to escape when there seemed to be none. Yet, she still found herself in dire situations, such as these. She could have easily picked the locks on the chains a long time ago, if she had her lock picks. But what would she have done then?

She could have possibly gotten around all the soldiers at the fortress, but not likely without her powers. She would've only ended back up in the same situation she started in or maybe dead if Sagat truly tired of her. Maybe, she would've had a better chance of escape in a situation such as this. Victor rode in the truck ahead of them. Aside from Creed and the driver, there was only one other man in their truck.

Maybe, she could created some kind of diversion and bolted through the thick foliage of the surrounding jungles. Then again, it would be stupid to run around in unknown territory. She did not know these lands well. Even if she did try to run through the jungle, Creed still had the ability to track her. A million different case scenarios ran through her mind, and she struck each of them down as impossible, irrational, or just plain stupid. Captivity sure did bring out her negative side.

Her thoughts stopped abruptly when she felt searching fingers find her own. She tried to look Vega in the eyes, but he turned his face from hers, veiling his thoughts from her. Whether it was for her comfort or his own didn't matter. It was such a humane action coming from him, but then, she'd seen sides of him that she didn't think he had. He was capable of caring for something other than himself, whether he wanted to accept it or not.

He hadn't meant to do it—grab her hand. But when the realization really set in, it was his first reaction, cling to the nearest safe thing. Sagat was taking them to Bison, and nothing good could come of that. He envied her ignorance of the situation. She hadn't had the displeasure of meeting Bison before, but after she met him, she'd never be able to forget him.

Just because he worked—or rather, had worked—for him didn't mean that he idolized the man. He respected Bison, had been willing to do whatever he wanted, but that was more for his own safety than true admiration. Truth was, he was a little scared of Bison, though he would never admit that aloud. You never knew what Bison might do. His moods were capricious, causing him to be as unpredictable as a storm.

It didn't matter how much you tried to stay out of his way. You could never avoid being subjected to some sadistic whim he had. They called Vega twisted, but his own sickness paled when it came to Bison. Who knew what Bison would do to them? He might disregard them, look over them as if they blended in with the background, or he might decide to make their stay miserable. When he really thought about it, it didn't actually seem so unbelievable that Bison betrayed him.

Across from them, Creed snorted their way with a roll of his eyes. Vega curled his lip up at him, eyeing him with apparent distaste. Disgusting beast, Vega said to himself. "Got somethin' ya wanna say, angel face?" Creed said mockingly. Vega held his tongue, not wanting to try his luck. Creed was three times his size, seeming to take up the little space they occupied.

He might've been impetuous, but he wasn't stupid. There was no way he could defend himself from that man—no, that animal—in the back of the truck, especially not bound as he was. So, he only stared at him with revulsion while his hatred smoldered. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone more vile than this man, except maybe Blanka. Creed stared back at him, his dark, depthless eyes betraying nothing but malice.

"You gotta a goddamn problem?" Creed said, provoking Vega. He'd heard that Vega had a nasty little temper, one that didn't take much to incite, and he was always looking for a good fight.

Vega clenched his teeth tightly together and tried to ignore the man in front of him, but he just kept goading him, making it harder and harder for him to keep his cool. He glanced at Ororo, who was eyeing Creed with cool disdain, as if she wanted to just kick him in the face one good time. He had seen her express contempt for their captors, for their situation, but he hadn't seen her express much malevolence toward anyone until now.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to ya," Creed continued, kicking Vega's leg, roughly, as if he were some kind of animal. Disgusting, uncouth, miserable swine, Vega thought to himself. He was ready to lash out, stupid decision or not. He would not tolerate this creature speaking to him in such an ill manner.

"Why don't you leave him alone?" Ororo said, before Vega could say a word. Creed turned his sights on her, smirking.

"Why don't you get fucked, you cold bitch?" he shot back at her. She breathed in sharply at his words, clenching her fingers tightly. Vega could see her face darkening in her anger, as he watched the exchange between them. Apparently, they knew each other well. Creed leaned in closer to Ororo, stroking the side of her face with one clawed finger. "Wanna fry my ass, don'tcha? But ain't nothin' you can do t'me without yer powers."

"Do not touch me," she hissed at him, jerking away from him violently. There was nothing that made Creed's day brighter than pissing off one of the X-Jokes. It was already starting to look like a good day.

"Like you gotta choice in the matter," he said with a cruel laugh. And Vega heard something in it that sounded familiar, something maniacal that reminded him of… himself. No, he didn't want to see himself in this monster. He was nothing like that foul beast.

"She said she does not wish to be touched." Vega said in a low, controlled voice.

"An' what do ya plan to do about it, angel face?" Creed said, using his free hand to grip Vega's throat. Vega's chained hands went to Creed's hand, but he couldn't pry the man's hand from his throat. His grip was strong, firm. Vega could feel the claws sinking into his flesh, and in his mind, he could see the pearls of blood welling around Creed's fingertips, just the way they'd welled around his fingers many times before. "I could rip yer throat out before ya could blink."

"Please, Victor, do not hurt him." Ororo said in a cajoling voice.

"Yo, Creed," a man called from the front of the truck. "Give it a break, will ya? Wait 'til after we get paid to have your fun. Then, I don't give a shit who you kill." Creed let Vega go unceremoniously, jumping at him, before taking his place. Vega brought his hand hands to neck and felt the finger shaped depressions left in his neck from Creed's hand, a faint trace of blood stained his fingers. When he looked at it, he felt nothing.

———

Logan and Elena arrived at Sagat's village. Elena inquired about Ororo around the village. She said people would be willing to talk to her because she was less intimidating than he was. He thought a little intimidation might get them more answers. He thought they could use his brand of intimidation, the tight-lipped assholes. It was just like the first time he came here with the X-Men. He couldn't wait to Ororo and get back to the mansion.

No one knew anything, or at least, they pretended to know nothing. Logan knew better. When they asked about Sagat, their eyes would shadow over with darkness. Their answers became monosyllabic snaps from their lips. They would quickly find an excuse, something they needed to do, before they walked away from Logan, quickly. They were afraid of that bastard. There were worse things to be afraid of, and he was one of them.

Logan was tired of playing Mr. Nice Guy, and he was three seconds away from gutting the man in front of him. He was hot, tired, and feeling very cranky. Taking his frustrations out on someone—anyone—was just the answer he needed to solve his problems. The next person who played blind, dumb, and stupid was a likely candidate.

Fortunately for someone, they met a girl who said she worked in Sagat's fortress. She'd seen the white-haired woman. The girl explained as much as she could to Logan and Elena. She told them that she had spoken with Ororo briefly, asking her if she was a witch as the rumors claimed she was. The girl didn't know where Ororo was now, but she was sure that guards knew something.

She said she would get them into them into Sagat's fortress, but that was the most she could do for them. The fortress was her only home, and even sneaking them inside was already too much. Once inside, they cornered one of the guards as he was rounding a corner. Logan slammed him so hard into the wall that Elena thought he'd killed the man.

At first, the guard was stunned into silence, looking at Logan with wide-eyes. Logan set his mouth in a determined line. If this man didn't talk, he'd might as well get ready to meet his maker. Elena walked along the corridors peering around the corners, acting as a look out. Maybe, she was half-good for something.

"What are you—" the guard started speaking.

Logan grabbed the man by his collar and slammed him against the wall again. The guard's head connected with the wall, eliciting a groan from him, and Elena winced in response, walking quickly past the two to the other end of the hallway. At the rate he was going, the man would be dead before he could get him to say anything.

Logan put a forearm across the man's throat, cutting off his air supply. The man struggled futilely, and before the man could lose consciousness, Logan loosened the forearm grip on him just a bit. The man coughed when the sudden rush of air entered his lungs. "I'm lookin' for a lady. She's got white-hair, brown skin, and blue eyes."

He knew who Logan was talking about, the weather witch that Sagat so coveted. The man's eyes flickered to Elena as she walked by again. "She's right behind you," the man said.

Logan tightened his arm against the man's windpipe again, watching emotionlessly as he gasped for the air that wouldn't come. Tears from lack of oxygen filled the man's eyes. "Don't be a smart ass. I'll ask ya again. Where's the lady?" He loosened his grip again, and the man pulled in a deep, gulping breath.

"I don't know," the man said quietly.

Snikt. Logan unsheathed his claws and the man gave a low yelp of surprise, trembling a little. He hadn't signed up for this job to be slapped around by freaks. "Who do I gotta kill around here to get answers?" Logan asked.

"Please, they are no longer here," the man cried, staring only at the blades that had emerged from Logan's hand.

"Where did they go?" Logan growled at the man.

The man swallowed hard. "I don't know," he whispered, his eyes still glued to Logan's hand.

Logan positioned the claws at the side of the man's face, letting the graze the man's skin. "Maybe, I can help ya remember," he said. The guard remained silent for a moment. He had two seconds before Logan did something he wouldn't regret.

"He took them to Bison. He's somewhere in Shadowloo, but you won't find anyone to take you there now. Nightfall, the villagers are superstitious as hell. You'd never make it without a guide, anyway. It's too dangerous," the man said quickly. God, if anyone heard him, he'd be shot for treason. But he'd rather be shot that mutilated by the man standing before him. But maybe if he found a way to warn Sagat…

Logan released the man, and he immediately went cowering into a corner. It looked as if they were stuck in that shithole until the morning. He would contact the X-Men and let them know where he was.

———

Nightfall. They stopped and set up camp in the first available clearing when the terrain became rough. No one wanted to brave the treacherous dips and dives the cliffs had to offer. The headlights barely cut the darkness of the area. Concealed by darkness, many people had accidentally driven over a cliff and lost their lives to a rocky death.

Campfires crackled lightly, and the men laughed together while roasting their food. She settled against a tree that Creed had roughly pushed her toward after he dragged her from the truck, but she was glad to at least be outside that stifling truck. It wasn't quite the freedom she had in mind, but she savored the feel of being one with nature for a short while, anyway.

As usual, two of the guards were forcibly pulling Vega along. He never learned, and neither did they. Didn't he know things would be a lot easier on him if he just learned to stop fighting them so much? She wasn't saying that he had to give up the fight, but he had to learn to strike when the time was right. She was biding her time because she knew it would come.

Vega managed to jerk his arm away from one of the guards. His head snapped backward catching the other guard in the face. The man let him go, holding his face and yowling. The guard he jerked away from made a desperate grab for his arm, but was rewarded with stiff shoulder to the chest. Instead of continuing with his show, he stopped. He looked quite pleased with himself. Sometimes, Ororo believed his moments of rebellion were more about the attention than the actual act.

He allowed the guard to lead him where Ororo was. "Sit the fuck down," the man said pushing Vega. Vega lost his balanced and fell backward, his back scraping down the rough bark of the three. Ororo winced just thinking about how painful it had to be, especially with his recent wounds, but Vega didn't make a sound. "I don't get paid enough to do this job," the man muttered before walking away. Vega yelled after the man in Spanish.

"Why give them the satisfaction of a fight you know you cannot win?" she asked him.

Angry, blue eyes turned her way. "To let them know that they have not taken it from me. No matter what they do to me I will always fight them," he replied.

She only nodded solemnly in response. She didn't want to exchange philosophies with him right now. She just wanted to enjoy being out, listening to the sounds of the earth, smelling nature in all its essence. The rainy weather had made the Thai foliage lush and vibrant, and she could smell exotic plants and flowers all around her. Ever so often, she would hear the soft sounds of something moving in the underbrush. It was perfect.

Without thought, she sighed and laid her head on Vega's shoulder, and in response, he moved closer to her.

———

Elena complained that she was hungry, so they stopped in a nearby restaurant. Restaurant was putting it nicely for that place. It was little more than a shack with windows. But the food was okay, and they actually served beer. Granted, it was so weak that it was almost like drinking water, but hell, it was beer. And that was good enough for Logan.

He'd actually flirted with the idea of trying to find Shadowloo that night, anyway. But what if that wasn't where they really went? The guard could've just been trying to give his boss a little more time to get where he was going. The guard could've lied to him, even with the threat of metal claws going through his neck, but he doubted it.

He wasn't familiar with the land in that area, anyway. It was mountainous, dangerous. What good would he be to Ro if he fell off a cliff and had to wait to heal? That would sort of defeat the purpose of trying to beat time. His best bet was to play it safe. He didn't like when things turned on him like this.

"So spill, what do ya know about this Shadowloo, princess?" Logan asked Elena. She seemed to know everything about everybody, and she loved sharing her expanse knowledge on everything.

Elena sighed, but she didn't correct him about her name. It wouldn't matter anyway. "Not much," she said with a shrug.

"What's 'not much'?" he asked.

"Well, I don't think the town itself is actually called Shadowloo. It's actually the name of an organization run by a warlord named Bison, but since he pretty much runs the whole place…" She trailed with another shrug, picking at her food.

"How in the hell do you know that?" Logan asked. Where do you go to in a place like this to learn about warlords? These people were so tight-lipped about everything. He bet if he asked what day it was that they would clam up on him.

"People talk and I listen," she said simply.

"Yeah right," he snorted. Like she could really shut up long enough to listen to anybody. She didn't even listen to him when he told her to shut up.

"Compared to Bison, Sagat is just small time. When you talk about your megalomaniacs of the world, Bison should be in the top ten, at least. This guy is really twisted." Elena said. "With him, it's all about trying to conquer the world, amassing more power, the usual stuff that crazies like him want."

"Great, just great," Logan grumbled. Well, this was going to be interesting, he said to himself.

———

Ororo was more relaxed than he'd seen her since they'd been captured. When he asked her why, she tried to explain the connection she had with nature. She was grateful to be outdoors, even if it wasn't going to last. While she talked about nature, he contemplated Ororo and her kindness. She cried for him. She pleaded for his life. She cared for him. She didn't have to do any of those things for him.

He didn't understand any of it. He never had anyone who really "cared" in life his life. She made him feel like he was close to her, as if he could tell her anything. She wasn't supposed to be someone he felt he could count on. She was supposed to despise him. Instead of crying for him, she should've laughed at because didn't he deserve it?

And where was his hatred for her? Shouldn't he despise her and all her ethical values? But no, he found himself actually listening to her, even when he argued with her. There had been moments when he thought he could've hurt her, but they were few and far between. The thought of stealing her life didn't appeal to him, which made no sense to him. Sometimes, all he fantasized about was the kill—how it would happen, the emotions he would feel, if the victim would fight him or not—but not with her.

He knew he might like her as a person, but it wasn't just that. He didn't know what it was because he'd never felt that way before. What he did know was that he didn't like it. It felt vile to him, an emotion he should never have about anyone, least of all her. He felt protective of her as if he was the one who had to get her out that, even though he hadn't been the one who got her into that predicament.

No, he would not allow this to happen. When they escaped, they would go their separate ways and he would forget. He was only responding to her acts of kindness because they were all he had, right now. Captivity had made him weak, vulnerable, and these feelings would all disperse once this experience was over. He was sure of it.

Vega's thoughts were interrupted by the two guards nearest to them. "You think he's hungry?" one of them said, looking over at Vega. Vega could already feel himself bristling in response.

"Don't care," the other one said.

The guard who posed the question stood from his seat. He walked toward Vega, but maintained a safe distance away from him. He swung his plate in Vega's face. "Want some?" the man asked. Vega's stomach twisted in a tight knot. He'd been ignoring the pangs in his stomach, but they intensified now as the guard taunted him relentlessly with food.

When Vega didn't react to the guard's taunts, he took his seat back by the fire. He threw scraps Vega way, and Vega seethed. "If he's really hungry, he'll eat from the ground like a dog," the guard said. The other guard laughed, adding his scraps to the pile.

"You will pay." Vega threatened through clenched teeth. They couldn't treat him like this. Then, he closed his eyes and sighed to himself. Yes, they could. He was the one who was chained down like a filthy criminal, not them.

"You hear that? He's going to make us pay." One of the guards said, and they laughed heartily.

"Ignore them. They are not worth your anger." Ororo said at his side. So she said. She had enough calmness for the both of them. He only grunted at her advice.

They all quieted as a shadow extinguished the light of the fire. Sagat loomed over Ororo and Vega. Neither of them could help staring up at him. He barely regarded Vega, as he looked down at Ororo. He extended an "invitation" to Ororo to eat with him, and she had the distinct impression that he was trying to be charming. He was about as charming as a rattlesnake. Didn't he ever give up?

Her stomach did growl favorably at the prospect of food, but she would not watch Vega starve while Sagat tried to win her affections through such methods of enticement. "I will not eat unless you feed Vega, as well." Ororo said, looking Sagat in the eye.

"He already has a marvelous feast laid before him." Sagat said with a vicious laugh, waving his hands at the scraps that had been thrown at Vega.

"Then, that is what I will eat, as well," she said stubbornly. She didn't really intend to eat the scraps, just as she knew Vega would never touch it, but she would rather starve with him than be Sagat's pawn.

He didn't speak, but she knew Sagat was furious with her. His fury burned her skin like a flame. She had done nothing but defy him at every turn. She would continue to do so. Maybe what Vega said earlier about letting them know they couldn't take the fight from him actually made more sense than she gave him credit for.

"Get her out of my sight. Get both of them out of my sight," he growled.

They were taken back to the covered truck, left to think about their actions like a scolded child. Ororo hugged her knees to her chest, resting her head against her kneecaps, while Vega studied her intently.

"Why do you do these things for me?" Vega asked, his voice holding a hint of desperation in it. He wanted to know why. He knew she felt it was her job to protect him as much as she could. But why? No matter what he did to her, said to her, she stayed constant. He hadn't had too many constants in his life. He thought it was stupid how she went up against Sagat for his welfare when he wouldn't have done the same for her.

"Because we are in this together," she said with a half-smile, looking up at him. "Is that not the gist of what you were saying when you told me you had a better chance of getting out if I were alive?"

God, he couldn't wait until they were free. The first person he would make pay would be Sagat. He reminded himself of that constantly. Then, he'd go after each and everyone of his little toy soldiers until they all died a horrible, bloody death at his hands. He told Ororo as much, and as he expected, she shook her head at him like a disapproving master.

"The bitterness inside of you is growing like a seed, Vega. You have to let it go before it chokes you completely." She said. She understood his need to get his revenge, but in the end, he would never really be satisfied. She had already related as much to him a previous conversation, but he was determined. "It will do nothing but turn your soul black."

"My soul is already dark."

"I don't believe that." Not completely she didn't. She wouldn't argue that he did some things that were truly disturbing, but she believed there was a part of him that wanted to be decent.

She didn't know how infuriating she was when she told him that she didn't believe he was this or he was this. What did she really know about him? Nothing at all. She didn't understand at all. She wasn't the one who was made to crawl. She was not the one who had pieces of her pride stripped from her everyday. Sagat only wanted to get her into his bed, but he wanted Vega to suffer to his last breath.

"I know because you do not understand." They'd already established that. She didn't understand any of his dark machinations.

"So, make me understand," she said. She wanted to hear every dark, dirty detail. She wanted to know what made him tick, what made him value such things as pain, beauty, blood, hate above everything moral. Maybe, once she heard everything he had to say, she would be able to help him better, to make him understand her side of things.

"Hate is like healing for my broken soul," and that's how he started his story.

He started from the very beginning with his parents, a mother who only valued beautiful things and a father who despised him. His obsession with death and dying started when he saw his father strangle his mother. The bloodlust didn't come until much later. He told Ororo about his very first kill. It involved a classmate that he strangled just because he wanted to know how his father felt while he wrenched the life from his mother.

He saw Ororo's horrified expression and partly delighted in it, but another part of him felt a little ashamed. No, not possible. No regrets, he reminded himself silently. She didn't interrupt him, and he continued his story, weaving a dark tale revolving around his vanity, his awakening bloodlust, his love of inflicting—and occasionally receiving—pain.

"I am out of control. They think I'm too far lost in my own world to know that, but I am not. It's like I need to lose control in order to feel whole," he ended. He had his back pressed hard against the side of the covered truck. He was jerking the chains that bound his hands, rubbing the skin around his wrists raw. He wasn't looking at her, but down at nothing in particular.

She scooted closer to him and touched the side of his face gently, lifting his face toward hers. He didn't recoil from her touch, and he didn't see any revulsion in her blue eyes, as he expected. He covered her hand with his own, and there was that odd feeling again that he sometimes got from her. They found their faces only inches from each. Drawing together like opposite poles of a magnet, they nuzzled their faces together.

He couldn't remember a time when he was this close to a person he hadn't intended to harm, but she was so warm and inviting. Is this what things would be like if he were normal? He couldn't hold her; the chains wouldn't allow it, but he kissed her, lightly. And she didn't stop him, even as the kiss deepened, became more demanding. Her fingers trailed languidly from his jaw to his neck, her lips following the same path. She kissed the purplish finger shaped bruises that marked his neck, flickering a tongue over the bruises, nurturing them with her own brand of soothing.

Then, he jerked away from her suddenly, slapping her hard across the face.

———

Outside, Creed furrowed his eyebrows, taking a sniff of the air. Creed leaned against a nearby tree, chuckling to himself. Oh, this shit was just too good like one big fucking soap opera with real violence. Sagat approached him, and he groaned to himself. At least, he'd get to deliver the news to Sagat personally.

"Where is Ororo?" Sagat asked.

Creed looked at Sagat as if he'd just lost his fucking mind. What was the point of wanting someone out of your sight if you were just going to go looking for them five seconds later? Creed didn't know what the bitch had done to him, but it must've been damn good for him to sniff around her like he did. Well, what-the fuck-ever.

"Probably behind a tree ass-fuckin' that fag you insist on keepin' around." Creed said with a shrug, still chuckling. Sagat gave him a withering frown. Damn, couldn't he take a joke? Losing an eye must've made everything not funny. "They're in the back of the truck."

"What is so funny, Creed?" Sagat asked annoyed. He was really getting tired of the Creed altogether. He just had to tolerate him a few more hours before they got to their destination.

"Nothin', besides the fact that that Spanish bastard is gettin' yer girlfriend wet. The air's full of her smell." Creed said, laughing harder when he saw the mortified look on Sagat's face.

"You lie."

"I do, but my nose never does." He loved getting a reaction out of people, and the way Sagat's mouth was working like a dying fish made him laugh even more. "I bet, if ya were to unchain them, they'd be more interested in fuckin' than gettin' away from ya."

"Creed, must you—"

"But those chains ain't tight enough t'keep him from puttin' his hands down her pants an' vice versa. An' if they're really smart, they already know they ain't gotta do much to get each other's pants to their knees. Won't be a lot of fuckin' goin' on with those leg shackles, though.

"Creed—"

"But I bet yer girlfriend gives some pretty mean head. Probably sucks it up an' swallows it down like a real pro." Creed continued, adding insult to injury. Sagat was about to die of a heart attack. "I'm just sayin', though."

Heh, heh, heh, Creed laughed to himself, as Sagat hauled ass to the truck. His job here was done. That shit was ridiculous, but damn was it entertaining. Sagat was a fucking dumbass for letting a piece of ass rule his life like that. Hell, that meant more entertainment for him, though. He couldn't wait until the runt showed up. Then, things would really get good.

———

Author's Notes: Yeah, I know. I've just been so immersed in other projects that this one became secondary in the midst of it all. I'll never abandon this, though, because it's my baby. I'm trying to get on track with this, though. It just doesn't seem to want to cooperate with me at times. This chapter actually got so long that I had to break it into two parts. Thanks Nick for all your input, thanks to Sparkle for putting me in the sappiest mood I've been in for a while (blech!), and thanks for your review KamikazeTenshi. It got my butt into high gear. Oh! And a very special thanks to my friend, Spike, who answered all my asinine questions about chains and handcuffs and what could and couldn't be done while bound a certain way. Inspiration: Body Crumbles by Dry Cell