I've always been good at goodbyes. That's just the sort of person I am. As an assassin, it's better to not get close to people. It messes the relationship up when they find out you were sent to kill them. So I keep my distance. It's nothing personal. It's easier having a thousand friendly acquaintances then a few friends. Friends take effort, effort I'm not the best at giving. I guess it's the reason I don't have family. But being alone makes things easier. For instance, if I had a family when I got my memories stolen, how complicated would that have been? Too complicated. I'm a simple kind of guy. I like to eat, travel, get laid every once in a while and maybe kill some folks in between. It makes goodbyes easy.
Which is why I had no problem when Logan and Gambit split. Logan and I come from similar schools of thought, or at least, we've been burned enough to learn life is better when you go it alone. Lonelier, but simpler. So when he took off, I had no problem shaking his hand, wishing him luck and watching him tear off into the sunset. Gambit was a little more complicated. I guess he's one of those "social butterfly" types because he lingers. If you're leaving, then leave. I can't miss someone if they don't leave. I wasn't going to miss him, but he insisted he would miss Kioni, and told me to drop in anytime I needed a thief or a wingman. I told him I would. I hope I don't need any of those things. Ever.
When he finally left, I was relieved. Took the Cajun long enough. He and Logan had both given Kioni something before they left. Gambit gave her a kiss (and in return, got a punch from me) and Logan gave her a small vial of blood. Now, Kioni's not Angelina Jolie. The blood wasn't for a future fashion statement, but for her father. We figured his might be safer than mine. Seeing as he was the source of the original healing power, his would be the first choice. If it didn't work, I'd try to give Joshua some.
The blood was sitting in the trunk of the Mustang in a Styrofoam container with dry ice. Xavier had let us keep the car, perhaps not wishing to foot the bill of getting the interior steam cleaned. He had given Kioni a manila folder with research on how to theoretically cure her father. Of course, we already knew how. But she took it with a thanks anyway. Lensher and his bff extended their invitation for me to join their little group of mutants. I rain checked. Kioni had an uneasy feeling about Erick, one she passed on to me. He seemed way too interested in Victor Creed when we told them what had gone down. It didn't sit right with me. One day I might join Xavier, but for now, he was just another goodbye. I had one more goodbye to face.
It was the first parting I can remember being upset about. In truth, Kioni was the only person I can ever remember being close to. Her presence had become a staple of the only life I remembered, and I wasn't quite ready to part from it. Not to mention the connection we shared. I noticed I'd been sleeping better at night, free from the nightmares that tortured me. I also noticed that my mind seemed more organized, and that Deadpool had stopped making such frequent appearances. All of these things were appealing to me. Leaving her was not.
It was agreed that I would take her back to Africa, then we would part. Even though Xavier had let us know that Stryker was in a military prison for the next five years ( I wonder which of his sins they got him for?) the man was well connected. Until he was gone, I shouldn't hang around and draw him to innocent people. Which brought us to the goodbye.
It wasn't like Gambit and Logan. I was determined to make this one count. Which is why I insisted we spend the night in Nairobi and return to her town the following morning. I had a plan. I'm sure Kioni knew what it was, but she went with it anyway. Apparently, love is a powerful persuader.
I'm not going to lie and tell you I loved her at that point in my life. I'm a cold-blooded killing bastard. It takes a while to melt the ice around my heart. Just admitting to liking someone was a big step for me. Kioni got that. So when we fell into bed that night, she took it for what it was. It wasn't a quick lay, it wasn't a one-night stand, it wasn't one of those romance-novel type things; it was a step (But I'm pretty sure the earth did move, or at least the bed jumped a couple of feet and I nearly cracked the headboard in half). What did happen was that, like an idiot, I made the connection deeper. Remember what I said it felt like when we kissed? Well, when you go beyond kissing, as in sleeping with someone, more specifically sleeping with someone who loves you and it's their first time, that connection goes above and beyond the normal. And so the one man act thing that I had going on permanently ended. Because after that, after feeling someone care about you that damn much, having someone give themselves to you, you can't go back. She had me, hook, line and sinker. Now she just had to reel me in.
The reeling in was a slow process. But we had time. I took her back the next morning, mind and body still buzzing over what had happened the night before. Kioni shifted awkwardly next to me. She was in just as weird of a space as me, except she didn't know what I was going to do. It was no secret that she had the stronger feelings. What she didn't know what that I already needed her. I didn't know it either, but there it was. We departed with a certain level of sorrow that we couldn't quite hide. She didn't cry, but her mood was dark as I shook hands with her father and brother-in-law and gave her sister a hug. Then I made our status as a sort-of-couple public when I grabbed her and laid a hard kiss on her lips in front of the whole town. People gasped and Akina laughed. Her dad looked like he was contemplating getting his gun, but he let is slide. I pulled back, shifted my bag on my shoulder and made her a promise.
"I'll stop by every once in a while," I told her in English.
"You'd better," her voice wavered ever so slightly. And with one more slower kiss and a hug, I was off.
I kept my promise. I stopped in a few times those first few years and spent time with her and her family, enjoying some semblance of normality. Then Stryker got out. My last visit to Africa to see her took place in the dead of the night five years after our little road trip. I was going to tell her that I'd be around less now that I had a colonel to kill. Instead, I noticed something peculiar. While the world spun and people aged around her, Kioni looked the same at 30 as she had at 25. She and her sister looked like twins. I didn't say anything then, but I knew the truth. She wasn't aging. My blood and our connection had her locked eternally at age 25. She and I were sharing the same fate. She had cried that night, sensing that it would be many, many years before I made a reappearance. It was then, while I held her in post-orgasmic bliss, that I realized I loved her. I have the worst timing ever.
While I traveled around working as a mercenary and looking for an opening to kill Stryker, the connection was strong. I felt her every day, in everything I did. It was unbearable. I knew that Stryker, tightly protected by the US government, (even I can't overthrow that) was watching her closely, so I couldn't risk going back. But I felt her anguish at my departure. Feeling the same, I tried to screw it away by letting Deadpool take over a few nights with nameless women. It didn't work. All it did was make me feel like crap when I realized Kioni had felt it all, and was hurting for it. She tried to move on herself. It was like torture. I felt it as she grew to have feelings for a man I didn't know, for a man who wasn't me.
Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I risked a secret trip to her town. I wanted to see the guy, just to know. Deadpool wanted to kill him. When I saw her with him, some tall, dark man I would later learn was Mhina's brother, I had more than half a mind to let Deadpool win this one. But she was happy. Soon, very soon, she would discover what I had known for a while. For now, I let her have a little bit of joy.
I walked around moping, immersing myself in my work to help ease the pain. I died a few more times, lost parts of myself, but was always drawn back by our connection. My memories faded in and out, my sanity faded in and out, but the thought of her kept me grounded. At night, when I laid alone in a jungle somewhere or in a foreign country, ghosts of nights spent together, of sore and sweaty limbs, broken headboards, twisted sheets and scratched backs replaced the nightmares. It was like constant torture. And then, one night, I felt it. She had finally realized she wasn't getting any older. People around her knew it too, and they were starting to freak out. She was either a mutant or a witch, neither a good thing to be where she was. So she fled, leaving her second choice of a man heartbroken at home with her family. She went the only other place she knew: Xavier's school.
I watched her there. Stryker kept constant tabs on my comings and goings, so I couldn't approach her. But I'm sure she felt me. I observed her cry herself to sleep at night, missing her family, her home and me. I saw her find solace by making friends with the young snow-haired mutant who shared her heritage and her redheaded friend. I watched her train in combat, noting that she had adopted a fighting style I knew well as my own. I noticed that her moods mirrored mine, that we had adopted some of each other's mannerisms. She had become a fierce adversary in a fight and I had experienced a mellowing our of sorts. Her sarcasm became refined, another byproduct of bonding with me. I kept her safe without her knowing it, hacking into government files to keep Xavier's school flying under government radar. Charles Xavier knew what I was doing, I was sure, but he refrained from commenting to either of us. I watched her from afar, keeping my desire to kick the door of that school down and take her right there, in check. I watched Erick and Xavier have a parting of ways. I watched as Logan stumbled to the school, a young girl in tow and immediately started slobbering all over the redhead, who was very much taken by the one-eyed boy scout. He always was an idiot. It couldn't have been clearer that the very available white-haired black woman liked him, and she had filled out a lot since I last saw her. But whatever. It's my story, not the story of how much of a retard the Wolverine is when it comes to women.
I watched Creed, now completely feral without his memories, make an appearance on Lensher's team only to be taken out by the X-men. And then, 14 years after Kioni and I met, what I had been waiting for finally happened. Stryker finally found a good reason to invade the school. He took some kids hostage and the little band of leather-wearing vigilantes went to get their students back. I aided in whatever small ways I could, posing as a soldier in Stryker's band. They succeeded, but managed to break the dam to Alkali Lake along the way, putting them in a pickle. If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself. Friggin' idiots.
They all mysteriously seemed to forget that they all possessed formidable powers; all except the redhead, who realized she was like, the shit, as far as telepaths go. Through Kioni, I sensed her desire to play hero and sacrifice herself. I urged Kioni to remind the other's that they were mutants for God's sake. And so, the little popsicle boy created an ice wall around their jet that kept them all from becoming aquarium decorations. Then the other resident hottie, the white-haired chick, used her freaky ability to make tornadoes with her mind to pull the jet into the air. And they flew off into the sunset, the only casualty of the flood being Stryker.
He was dead, and I couldn't wait any longer. While the rest of her teammates were licking their wounds, I snuck into the mansion and into her room on the third floor teacher's wing. I know Xavier sensed me, I know Logan smelled me, but they wisely stayed out of my way. I knew she felt me coming. In fact, when I got to her door, I found it unlocked. I knew for a fact that she locked it every night. I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. It smelled like her. Traces of her decorated the walls, from the curtains of her floor length windows, to the trinkets from her hometown littering the shelves. Pictures of her family, including the sister she never saw but maintained close contact with, lined the walls, mixed in with newer photos of her life in America. I shut the door quietly, pulling my red and black hood off as I walked slowly into her room. She was sitting upright on her bed, staring at me.
Without so much as a hello, she lifted herself up, crossed the carpeted floor to me, and punched me as hard as she could in the face.
"It's about damn time you came to see me," she growled in Swahili. My face stung, but I'll admit, I deserved it. "I thought you were going to spend the rest of eternity watching me from afar."
I smiled at her. "I knew you knew. But I had to wait."
"I know," she mumbled. She was already fussing over the red mark on my cheek. She pressed her lips to it, soothing the sting and igniting a fire I wouldn't be able to extinguish no matter how hard I tried. "But it's been hard." I could smell saline and hear the way her throat tightened.
"You miss your family," I stated.
"And you." She said, the tears falling freely now. "I missed you too. My family at least visits." she sounded accusatory and I couldn't blame her. Her family did indeed come to visit at least once a year during the holidays. Her nephews were nearing the age she was suspended in, and her baby sister looked many years her senior, but they still came. Her father had come too, until he had passed away a few years ago. She had to go through it all alone. I felt bad. But I was determined to make up for it.
"I was here. You just didn't see me." I told her. It was lame, but I projected how I was feeling on the inside to her. I may be a man of many words, but I'm not the best at getting emotions across.
"I felt you." she said quietly. "Everyday. It helped. It's nice to know you're not the only person on the planet not dying." her voice had the hint of a smile when she said this.
"I'm not sorry I made you into what I am." I said boldly. She looked like she might hit me again. "I'm selfish that way," I plowed on. "You see, somewhere, a decade or so back, I realized that I was in love with you. And I wasn't going to let that go. Not for anything." Kioni's face softened, her eyes lit up, and she threw herself into my arms. We kissed, undressed, and then proceeded to demolish her four-post bed.
So Wade Wilson, former soldier, assassin and amnesiac, became a member of the X-men. And together, Kioni and I watched students grow up, watched Wolverine get his head out of his ass and finally ask Storm out, watched our friends around us date, marry, get pregnant and get old. I watched in amazement as Kioni's stomach grew round one, two, three, four times and as I went from being the world's most talkative mercenary to the world's most sarcastic dad.
We watched together as our kids grew up and had kids of their own, as the people we cared about aged and succumbed to nature, watched the world steadily go to hell, until only Logan, she and I were left. Then, hundreds of years later, we learned that even the Wolverine could die. But we couldn't. I can't say I recommend immortality (all you Twilightfans take notes); it's not all it's chalked up to be. Kioni and I went through some serious shit. Watching wars, death and poverty and the world just generally going to hell around you isn't fun. It takes it's toll. But Kioni was right there, holding my hand and keeping me mostly sane.
Our time finally came, when everyone else was gone and the world ready to begin again. I still don't understand how it happened. We just went to bed one night, under the stars in Africa where we first met, and woke up somewhere else completely. And thanks to Kioni, I woke up somewhere pleasant and wonderful instead of the fiery depths I was certainly damned to without her. I told the Big Guy thanks for looking out for me, said hello to all of our old friends and our kids. And generally lived happily ever after. Heaven's pretty damn cool.
So there you have it folks, a fairy-tell ending to a story that started out pretty bleak. If you're the type of person who generally enjoys more angsty versions of my life, no worries. There are plenty of stories--through Marvel and other authors-- where I don't find Kioni. I bet they're way more depressing. So you can read those.
Until then, this is the Merc with the mouth, plus one, signing off.
Oh, and do review this story. I'd say the author deserves it for giving me such a nice ending. What do you think?
A/N: I finished! Thanks for hanging in there with me. I know I changed the plot of X men a little bit, but I really thought some of the plot was stupid. Especially how they're frigging superheroes but seem to forget about their powers when things get rough in the movies. I hope you all don't mind. But if you do, feel free to tell me about it. And if everyone who hasn't reviewed, but had read, would just send me a little blurb on what they thought, I would love it. To those of you, especially Captain Deadpool, thanks for always letting me know what you thought! Have a Happy Holidays folks!