Chapter Eleven
It was a rather beautiful day. The air was crisp and warm, a beckoning call to the summer that was slowly coming around the corner. Travis was lounging out on the balcony of the Music Room with a book in one hand and her feet propped up on a cushion in front of her. Her crutches lay within reach just in case she felt like she needed it. Though her injuries were coming along just fine, there were times when the soreness overwhelmed her. She pulled the blanket she had around her closer to her to keep the cold air out. Though the sun was out, it was still pretty chilly when a stray breeze chanced to blow past. In the courtyard it overlooked, a group of students were running around laughing playing some sort of game that looked like a variation of dodgeball but with superpowers.
Travis had to smile when she spotted Bobby trying to protect Marie when a ball rocketed towards her. The young adult merely side stepped the ball before she burst into fits of giggles when it bounced off Bobby's head, tagging him out. It seemed like the two of them had patched things up rather quickly after the whole Liberty Island incident. She hadn't really spoken to any of them since her return but that was for the lack of effort on their part.
She just… wasn't in the mood to talk… about anything. And often quickly excused herself to return to her room quickly. Though she'd argue that she was getting better at the whole not being anti-social thing. Instead of hiding in her room, she often escaped to the lab and sat with Hank as he worked. Though they rarely spoke when he was working, she shared in his joy of every little discovery or progress he made.
She didn't want to admit to herself that it was also largely because the blue mutant reminded her vaguely of Mort when he was working.
Minus all the anti-human tendencies.
And though there were several disparities like Hank's work was mostly in the medical and biological field whereas Mort worked in the field of mechanics and physics, the look and twinkle in their eyes when they discovered something important or figured out a puzzle was exactly the same.
But that was not something to dwell on. As much as it hurts a little bit to think about it, Mort was in the past now.
She hummed as she turned the page in the book. She was by herself today though. Hank was away on Mutant Affairs business, Scott and Jean were supervising downstairs, Ororo was in the kitchen, Logan was… off doing what Logan does. Probably in the Danger room in the basement. As for Wade… she didn't know what he did in the afternoons. He could be in the Danger Room getting throttled by the Wolverine for all she knew. He had that effect on people.
He always seemed to disappear during the day but she didn't mind. He didn't seem like the type that liked being cooped up in one place.
She was expecting that one day she would wake up and he would be gone.
And though she didn't want to admit that the thought of him leaving gave her a strange wrenching feeling in her gut, she often reasoned with herself that he was, after all, a mercenary. He wasn't wont to stay in one place for ages at a time. It would drive him crazy.
At least… crazier than he was now.
She slid the bookmark in place before setting her book down. Watching the others running around outside made her feel restless. She stretched and sat up. With a wince, she grabbed her crutches and pulled herself up with them. The cold air always made her quite a bit stiffer and she hobbled inside awkwardly. She made sure to leave one of the balcony doors open to air out the room.
It seemed as if the students had put the room to good use despite her absence. Instruments hung up around the room clean and pristine while sheet music littered in random corners. There was a well-thumbed music book that sat on one of the chairs accompanied by several of its companions on the floor, all equally well-thumbed and dog-eared. Pencils used to mark the pages and sheets of musical scores were left in random places.
She leaned the crutches against one of the chairs before she slid across the piano bench and sat in front of the grand piano. Gingerly, she pressed down on a few keys, testing the strength of her fingers. Though sore, the tune came out shakily and then stronger as she worked the stiffness out of her fingers.
A large grin grew across her face before she positioned her left hand as well. Slowly, she coaxed those fingers to push against the black and white keys. And equally slowly, her fingers managed to coax a small melody from the instrument.
It was a sweet and happy tune and she didn't know why it was stuck in her head but the chords flowed out of her. Then, she began humming the melody as the hands traced the chords of the tune.
Feeling bolder, she began to sing the lyrics to the song softly.
"And you play it coy. And it's kinda cute. When you smile at it me, you know exactly what you do. Baby don't pretend, that you don't know it's true. Cause you can see it when I look at you."
Her fingers felt stronger and feeling the shyness slip away since there was nobody else in the room with her, she began to sing in earnest.
"And in this craaaazy life. And through these crazy times. It's you, it's you. You make me sing. You're every line, you're every word, you're everything."
Her fingers danced expertly through the keys. Though unbeknownst to her, like in every clichéd movie, play, or trashy novel when the protagonist thought she was alone, she was starting to gather an audience.
"You're a carousel, you're a wishing well. And you light me up, when you ring my bell. You're a mystery. You're from outerspace. You're every minute of my every day. And I can't believe… that I'm your man! And that I get to kiss you baby just because I can-"
"You're many things, frail, but I didn't know you were a man," came a purr from beside her and with a yelp, she jumped up, fell over onto her crutches and blinked blearily up at the intruder.
Heart in her mouth, she looked up unbelievingly at the two men who now stood in front of her. One of them was recognisable from just about anywhere. Towering at over six feet, all rippling muscle and a look on his face like a cat who had found the cream was Victor Creed himself. Standing just behind him was his smaller, greener, slimier companion with a look of utter amazement from having caught her singing.
"Cor, I didn't know you could play the piano," he murmured as he ran a finger down the side of the grand piano.
"Wh-wh-… what…?" she stammered, trying to get over the shock of the two of them being in the fucking Xavier mansion. Then she frantically tried to scramble up but was unable to do so. With a huffed sigh, Mort hopped over and heaved her up with very little decorum by the back of her shirt. Too shocked at their presence, she could only gape at them.
"No hellos or how are yous eh?" the shorter of the two asked sarcastically as he grabbed her crutches from the floor and handed it to her. She could only stare at them before she shook herself. Then, quickly, she half stumbled and half limped towards the main door and made sure it was locked before she turned to face the two intruders.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "Do you know how insane what you're doing is?! What if they found out you were here?!" she exclaimed, her arms flailed about as if it would demonstrate to them just how dire the circumstances were.
"Didn't know you cared," Victor purred as he gingerly touched the piano with a finger. Just before a clawed finger could run scratches down the side of the grand piano, Travis irritably slapped at his hand.
"Don't ruin that," she snapped. The larger mutant looked up at her with surprised amusement etched across his face.
"What happened to yer?" Mort finally asked as he gestured at the state of her injuries. She stared back at him, dull eyes not quite focused as she fought to remain in control of her emotions. He must have noticed the change in her demeanor because his face grew dark at the unspoken answer.
"Why don't you ask the employers who hired Victor," she finally managed to scrape out before she collapsed onto one of the chairs.
Victor strode towards her, a scowl on his face, "Don't insult me, frail. You were a means to an end. And if Deadpool hadn't interfered, I would have both you and the information I sought. I don't work for any two-bit operation."
Her head spun at the thought. Victor wouldn't have given her up? Was that what he was telling her? She felt bile starting to bubble up at the bottom of her gut. Did that mean that all this was her fault? If she had stayed… then this wouldn't have happened… If she stayed… she wouldn't have…
With one hand, he grasped her chin and tilted her head from one side to the other as he examined the state of her healing injuries. Then, he leaned forward and inhaled deeply. Travis stiffened and only relaxed when he finally pulled away.
"You smell different," he murmured before his face twisted, "Did the bastards touch you?"
She looked away to avoid looking into his piercing eyes. Quietly, she responded, "You already know the answer to that."
"I'll teach them not to play with my things," he replied darkly.
"Already taken care of kittycat," quipped a familiar voice. Travis jerked up to see Wade standing by the balcony, a large grin on his face. Then, he glanced over at her with a smirk, "Hey sugartits, leave you alone for a few minutes and this is what happens eh?"
Mort had stood up to stand between her and the other two mutants, almost as if he was protecting her. It would have been sweet if Mort's betrayal wasn't still so fresh in her mind. That night when she ran away, he hadn't even had the courtesy to watch, much less help. Though, when he glanced over to her, she was surprised to find a fierce determination radiating from his face.
"Don't you dare talk to her," he snarled protectively back at the mercenary. Travis could only stare dumbly at the three mutants in the room. Then, as Wade drew out one of his katanas, she pinched the bridge of her nose.
This was unacceptable. This was… insane. Crazy.
And she was not going to deal with any of it.
"Alright guys, look-" she started before the main door to the music room opened with a bang! and a snarling Logan jumped into the room, claws out.
"I knew I smelled something rotten," he replied as he began to circle Victor. Victor's mouth turned up into a sneer, showing off his impressive canines, "I was wondering when ye were gonna come and play runt."
Travis stared in horror. Now there were four of them, all snarling and waving weapons at each other.
In her precious Music room.
She started to hobble forwards in hopes of breaking up the throng of circling aggressive mutants.
Then the rest of the Xmen burst into the room.
And the room exploded into chaos.
Scott shouted at both Logan and Victor, Jean was trying to keep Mort from maiming Scott while he dealt with the other two mutants, Ororo was staring in surprise at Mort but her eyes immediately darkened and Travis could feel the beginnings of a hurricane starting up in the room.
Oh gods… the room.
Her Music Room… with all the instruments… and music…
"Stop!" she pleaded, trying to make herself heard over everything. They ignored her.
"I said stop!" she tried again. There was a painful throbbing in her head from all the noise. "SHUT UP."
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
The noise continued.
"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!" she finally screamed. The entire room froze and all eyes turned to look at her in shock at her outburst. With a shaking finger, she pointed to the main doors.
"Get. The. Fuck. Out," she hissed. Jean took a step forward as if to console her.
"Don't you fucking dare, Red. I said. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Music. Room," she snarled, "I don't care if you want to maim or kill each other. But do that the fuck outside."
There was another stunned silence. Wade was looking at her with what looked like morbid pride as he sheathed his katanas. The alpha males in the room shuffled their feet, unsure of what exactly they should be doing even though their bloodlust still sang in their heads. The severe tone coming out of the mouth of such an unassuming person like Travis was jarring, as if she voiced all disapproving mothers everywhere.
"If I find one scratch on that piano or one string broken on any of the instruments, I will personally deal with whoever's responsible."
Victor laughed at the threat though it sounded flat in the silence of the room, "You, frail? What are you gonna do huh?"' Travis scowled at the mocking laughter, "I can be very creative if I have to be, Victor. Remember, I know everything about you." She paused as she repeated the last word, "Everything. Now get out."
Surprisingly, the others started filing out with looks of wonderment on their faces. When Victor took a threatening step forward, he was stopped by Logan with a hand and a jerk of his head to indicate that they should go outside. Even Travis was surprised when Victor stared at the smaller feral mutant before taking his lead and leaving.
"…And don't even think about getting into my head baldie," came the echoed growl as the door closed behind them.
With the two class 5 mutants gone, Travis slumped onto the piano bench with a sigh of relief.
But as per her luck, her relief was short lived when she looked up and saw that Mort and Wade were still in the room. Both of them were sizing each other up with and though they looked relaxed in their stance, the way their muscles tensed when she got up showed that the opposite was true.
"What now?" groaned Travis as she rubbed at her temples.
"Just wondering what Slimey McLimey is doing here," Wade commented casually, "I can understand big ole' pussy cat being here but what about this reject?"
Mort scowled darkly at the mercenary, "I'm not the one wearing a latex fetish suit."
Wade's mouth twitched into a smirk, "You like what you see froggy? Too bad your girlfriend prefers me over you."
"She's not my… what do you mean prefers you over me?!" Mort demanded incredulously before shooting her a suspicious glare.
Travis pinched the bridge of her nose again. This whole situation was just getting better and better.
"Will the two of you just SHUT. UP?" she asked through gritted teeth. Travis ran a tired hand through her hair before she fixed both of them with a stare. The two of them shifted uncomfortably like children who had their hands caught in the cookie jar.
Then, she sighed. With one hand on her hip, she wagged a finger in Wade's direction, "You. Go check on Victor. Make sure things don't get too out of hand."
Wade scowled at the instruction, obviously displeased with what she said, "You want me to leave you alone with this slimeball? I might be crazy but I'm not that crazy." Mort growled back at him but before he could say anything, Travis stepped in.
More out of instinct than anything else, she reached out and gripped Wade's hands tightly. She smiled up at him in what she hoped was a comforting way, "I'll be fine. Really. I trust Mort with my life."
It was a blatant lie. But Wade didn't have to know that.
With narrowed suspicious eyes, the red and black mercenary nodded stiffly before he turned around and left the room. But not before he turned around and glared daggers at him, "I'm watching you McLimey."
Another sigh and hand through her hair before she turned to Mort who was looking at her equally suspiciously. She grabbed one of his hands and tugged him out of the room as well, "Come on. We need to speak privately."
"Where we goin'?" Mort asked as he allowed himself to be tugged along the corridor.
"My room."
He was silent as she dragged him along. When they finally arrived at the door to her small room, she twisted open the doorknob and pushed open the door. He slipped in quietly before she followed him inside. The door closed behind her with a click. When she turned around, Mort was standing in the middle of the room and looking around awkwardly.
She crossed her arms and fixed him with a stare, "What are you doing here? Why are you even here? How on earth did you even find me?"
He blinked in surprise at the venom in her voice. Then, stubbornly, he crossed his arms, willing himself not to be affected by the way Travis was glaring at him… or the way she limped and favoured her right leg… or the way she held her right hand gingerly.
He took a deep breath, "There's rumours that Mystique is back and building up the Brotherhood again to break Magneto out."
She raised a brow at him, "Yes? And?" He looked at her incredulously.
"And? So we're here to bring you back!"
"I'm not going back with you," she replied firmly. A frown was now etched on her face.
"What do you mean you're not going back with us?" Mort asked in confusion.
"Exactly what it is. I'm not going with you."
"So you're just going to stay here? With him?" he demanded, a scowl back on his face. Travis threw her hands up in frustration, "Yes! No! I don't know! I don't know what I'm doing! I don't fucking belong anywhere!"
At this point, Mort grabbed her gently by her left hand and pulled her towards him. An arm snaked protectively around her waist and he crushed her against him. Travis froze against him, her face buried in the crook of his neck as he buried his face in her hair. She felt him swallow thickly.
"You belong with… us," he said softly, "Ye said we were family once. That we were all the family you had."
Travis sighed. Then, slowly, she pushed the green mutant away. In reaction, he slid his hands down to her hips and they rested there. She frowned before she wiggled out gingerly out of his grasp. His arms fell to his side as he looked at her cautiously. There was something strange in his eyes that she couldn't quite place but it was quickly replaced with suspicion.
"Is it because of him?" he asked, eyes dark.
There was no need to ask who he was referring to. Travis ran a hand through her hair in thought before she shook her head, "No."
"You're lying."
"Mort, you know I've never lied to you."
"How can you even stand that guy?" he demanded with a scowl, "Have you even smelt him? Cor, he stinks somethin' awful."
Travis looked at him with a brow quirked in amusement, "I spent countless weeks living with you guys in a sewer. I think my sense of smell is basically gone after that stint."
Mort continued to scowl at her, not happy with her at all, "So ye really not comin' with us?"
Travis sighed and looked down at her hands.
He reached out for her hand and held it between his tightly. She looked up to see him looking at her with a strange look in his eyes. A thumb stroked her hand absently as he swallowed a lump in his throat. He searched for the words to say.
"I am… I mean… we are your family," he insisted.
"Really? Even a dirty normie like me? Friend and family to the brotherhood, the haters of all dirty normies?" she asked sarcastically. Then, she looked at him accusingly, "You left me to fend for myself."
"Ye shouldn't have ran."
Travis jerked her hand out of his in fury, "Excuse me?! Have you ever faced Victor in Sabretooth mode hell bent on capturing you?! You try that and see if you would've ran! I expected Victor to do something crazy being the psychopath that he is… but you!" She pointed an accusing finger at him, "You didn't do anything! You… you…"
Her face felt wet. Was she crying? She hadn't thought that his own inaction would affect her so much. Her hands shook as she struggled to get her throat to work. Then, with a fizzle, her fury left her in one breath and she slumped back against the wall, "You… You just watched… I thought… I thought after everything… …."
She looked down at the floor.
"I was stupid."
He took a step forward, a hand reaching for her in hopes of comforting her, "Travis…"
She recoiled from him.
"Don't touch me."
Her voice sounded cold, flat, and dead in his ears. His hand jerked back. The unseen look of hurt and heartbreak flashed on his face at her words. It was quickly replaced by fury.
"Fine," he spat, "Stay 'ere. Go off with the mercenary. But the Brotherhood are comin' back and ye remember today when yer on the wrong side. If yer not with us willingly, ye better be fucking sure that Sabretooth will come for you again. And don't say I didn't warn ye this time."
He stormed out of the room and the door slammed behind him. Slowly, she sank to the floor.
She felt numb all over. Feeling incredulous that her tear ducts had betrayed her, she scrubbed at her face. In the back of her mind, she wondered if Victor was even still on the grounds or if Logan had thrown the feral out.
Not that she cared.
No.
She didn't care.
Travis scrubbed at her face again. Then she stared out into nothingness as she sat on the floor. Had she broken all ties with them by not joining up with the Brotherhood? She wanted no part in this war… though it seemed like through her actions, she had chosen a side. Whether or not that side was with the Xmen or the Brotherhood, she wasn't able to tell. Her head pounded as she tried to contemplate the possible consequences of her actions… She rubbed at her face again.
She didn't want to think any more.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a bottle that was left over from the night that Wade had borrowed from Logan's stash. Crawling over to it, she picked it up and stared at it. Then, with her mouth set in a grim line, she got to her feet.
She didn't know how much time had passed before someone knocked on her door.
"Travis?" came the muffled question from outside her room.
"Go away."
"Travis? It's Jean. Open the door."
"Leave me alone."
"Open the door!" came a growl. Logan sounded pissed. She guessed that the fight with Victor didn't go very well.
"Go away."
"If you don't open the door, we'll break it down."
"We just want to talk, Travis," Jean implored, begging her through the door. With a sigh and another swig from the bottle, Travis hopped out of the bed and stumbled. She quickly regained her balance though noticed she was swaying quite a bit. She supposed she had drank more than she had thought. She shook the bottle and stared at it. She thought there was more left…
The incessant knocking again.
She managed to stumble towards the door though she ended up hitting the wall rather hard. Frowning, she stared at the lock as her alcohol addled brain tried to figure out how to open it.
"Travis," came Logan's warning growl.
"Logan. I am drunk," she declared. The other side of the wall fell silent. "I am drunk," she continued, "And I'd like to be left alone please. So go away."
"Where did you get alcohol?!" came the shrill cry of dismay from Jean though Logan ignored her.
"You can't run from this," he snarled, more out of frustration than with any anger directed towards her.
"I know," she relented, taking another swig from the bottle, "But I need some peace". "Tomorrow," she promised.
Then a frustrated sigh.
"Logan? Logan where are you going? We have to get her out of her room!" came Jean's demand from behind the door.
"Forget it Red, she's useless the way she is now. Like she said. Tomorrow."
She heard their footsteps fade away. Proud of herself for getting rid of them, she slid to the floor again, legs sprawled out as she stared into the darkness of her own room.
She was drinking alone.
She wondered if this meant she was an alcoholic.
Travis leaned her head back. This was all a bit pathetic, she thought. Was this self-pity? She was so confused… maybe her wanting to drink was the way she was trying to deal with it… Deal with what exactly? She started trying to analyse her situation. She was being pulled one way and the next. What loyalties did she hold? Who were her friends? Who cared? It seemed as though all her injuries and suffering were self-inflicted but was she still being manipulated? Why did the Brotherhood want her so badly? She really wasn't much use to them… especially if they didn't believe her origins or thought her to be crazy.
She took another swig of the bottle. Time was racing too fast for her liking. Her mind felt like breaking. She just needed it to slow down a bit more.
Another swig.
Then a knock.
"Travis?" The voice was soft, familiar.
"What do you want?"
"Travis, open the door."
"Go away."
"Open it or I'll open it myself."
"Fuck off."
There was a fumbling sound from behind the door then a click as the doorknob turned. A sliver of light burst in through the room and she turned away from it. Someone slipped in and the door clicked close again. Drained of emotion and energy, she sat where she was, staring uncomprehendingly into the darkness of the room.
There was peace in darkness.
Then someone scooped her up before setting her on the bed. Hands undressed her. Her shirt was pulled gently off her body and her jeans were tugged off. A large t-shirt was pulled over her head. Someone pulled the covers up over her. She shivered from the cold she felt inside her.
There was another shuffling in the room. Things were tossed on the floor.
Somebody slipped under the covers with her. Arms snaked around her body and held her. She pressed against a warm body, her hand feeling the familiar scars and pock mark scars that she knew were there.
A fuzzy comforting hum and a familiar breath on her face.
She felt like crying.
But the tears did not come.
A/N: Thanks for all the follows and reviews thus far! You guys rock!