Until the End: Dreams & visions of an undeniable future lead two women on the adventure of a lifetime. Together, they hope to somehow prevent the upcoming tragedy that could leave the entire world in disarray. OC Alert!

XoXoX

"Take me as you found me, Take me as you found me. Or leave me to die. Leave me wanting, leave me wanting The rest of your life." - Anberlin

Until the End

Chapter Twenty-Six

-Alexa-

"You know, I'm not one to preach about proper conduct, but throwing this shit 'round like it's goin' outta style probably ain't the most acceptable thing to do."

I snorted, tipping the longneck back for another quick swig of the beer. My eyes, involuntarily, were drawn to his form as he sauntered into the room, two of his own beers, both unopened, held loosely in his grasp. "Go away, Logan. I'm really not in the mood for company."

Seemingly ignoring me, he hoisted a hip up on the table, his knee brushing mine. "Well, that's all well an' good an' all, but I don't rightly give a shit." He twisted the top off of his beer and tossed it onto the table next to him, taking a quick swig before he let his eyes rest on me. "Ain't no expert, but I'm thinkin' trashin' this room ain't a sure sign that yer okay. Fury's gonna have your hide for this shit."

Blinking, I looked around the small and sparsely furnished room. During my short stay aboard the Helicarrier, Robyn and I had discovered it after a day of brutal training. It boasted a number of comfortable couches, a television that actually had access to more than C-Span, and even a vending machine. "He'll recover," I muttered, feeling at least a bit better inside at the sight of the destroyed room. Between brutal force and telekinesis, the room looked like a trailer park after the storm had rolled through. "I was going to head down to the gym, you know, maybe work off some of this steam."

"What the hell stopped ya?" he asked, chuckling as he took another swig from his beer.

I clasped the beer in my hands in front of me, vaguely remembering stopping in one of the large kitchens and scaring the daylights out of an agent or two as I'd grabbed half of a six pack and somehow found my way through the twisting and winding corridors of the Helicarrier. I'd managed to avoid everyone and anyone. Of course, apparently Logan had been the one lucky enough to track me down.

"Maybe I should go back, wait for the doctors to get done with the procedure," I whispered, well aware of the fact that his acute hearing could decipher the soft-spoken words. "The least I can do is sit by her bedside, hold her hand, and wait for her to come out of it. Right?"

"Don't," he muttered, reaching over and pushing my beer away from my lips as I lifted it to take another long drink. "Don't go blamin' yerself for this. It damn sure ain't yer fault. If anything," he cleared his throat as he took a swig of his beer, "If anything it's my fault."

Liar, I thought to myself, wrenching away from him so that I could take a sip of my beer. It occurred to me as I lowered the beer that I didn't even know what time it was. There were no windows in the room, and my internal clock had gone all haywire. Was it just a few hours ago that I was at the cabin with Victor? Really? "I'm the one that dragged her into this whole mess, Logan, so don't even start with me. I'm the one that talked her into leaving, talked her into going on this big adventure. What in the hell was I thinking?"

"You were prolly thinkin' the same thing that she was, darling," his voice was calming, soothing. "Y' should've seen her face, should've seen the way Rob got all lit up when they told 'er she was goin' in with me. They tell ya how it went down?" he asked, frowning at me when I shook my head slowly. "Me an' her, we went in as a nice little pair. She was one of 'em reporters an' I got stuck luggin' a camera 'round. Didn't bug me much."

"Why?" I found myself asking, shaking my head. "From what Xavier told me during the plane ride..." I trailed off, remembering how it had all seemed like an out of body experience. "Why her?"

I felt him shrug, and winced at the sound of his neck cracking as he stretched. "The bastards had every exit covered. There was no damned way anyone was gettin' in without causin' a stir, so we went in. Fury figured Rob'd wave her hands 'round and freeze 'em up nice and tight, an' she did. Shit kinda went south when one of 'em fucked up machines got t' workin'." My chest tightened at the word machine, and I recalled Xavier bringing up a machine not unlike the one that I'd come across during my Canadian adventure. "She was brave."

"Bravery isn't everything. It's a nice asset, sure, but it's not everything," I retorted, fighting the urge to throw my nearly empty beer bottle at the far wall.

"Dunno what the fuck that thing was, that machine, but it did a number on me, on everyone. Them kids," he sucked in a deep breath as he took another sip of his beer. "Made me think o' the time some secret government fucks busted into the School. Rob ended up gettin' a bunch o' 'em to the roof, and Gambit an' Beast managed to help me take out some more of them bastards. But, that's when things went a little downhill."

"A little?" I snorted, hands shaking as I slammed the bottle down onto the table next to me, hardly aware of the fact that it shattered in my grasp. "You call her getting shot and nearly killed a little downhill? Well, holy fuck, Logan! I would hate to imagine what you consider to be completely FUBAR!"

"Settle the fuck down!" he growled, sliding off of the table and swinging his arm out, knocking this discarded and forgotten beer bottles across the room. He stood in front of me, my legs the only thing between us as he glared at me, his dark hazel eyes filled with rage. "Don't fuckin' presume that you know anything 'bout me, darlin'." His jaw was clenched tightly and I could almost hear his teeth grating together impatiently. "Don't you think if I could, I'd've taken the fuckin' bullet for her? Huh? Who in the hell are you gettin' off talkin' to me like that? I feel guilty enough without yer shit!"

Don't look at him, I urged myself, clenching my eyes closed for a split second to ensure that I wouldn't cry. "I'm sorry if it sounded like I was blaming you, Logan," I managed in a hoarse whisper through tightly clenched teeth. "You'll have to forgive my lack of manners as my best friend is-"

"So what if she's yer best friend? Y' think ain't nobody else feelin' like complete and utter shit 'bout this? Do you?" His hands were on my shoulders slightly and he shook me once, forcing me to glare at him with my hands clenched angrily in my lap. "I watched like a fuckin' deer caught in the headlights. I watched like it was in Goddamned slow motion. Do y' know what that's like? Do y' know what it's like to feel yerself movin' forward, but yer too motherfuckin' slow and it's like swimmin' through rotten ass molasses? Do you?" he bellowed.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, emotion lacing my voice as I realized that I actually meant the two words. "I'm sorry."

He was quiet for a long moment, his chest heaving and his breaths raspy as he reined his anger in. "Didn't sense him, didn't even fuckin' know he was there til it was too late. So, am I guilty? Maybe. Maybe it is my fault that she's laid out in there, fightin' for her life while they do God knows what t' her." He paused for a moment and his tight grasp on my shoulders loosened remarkably before he took a slight step back, his hands leaving my shoulders completely. "She was laid out on the ground before I could even fully react. But I went after 'im, not that it makes any Goddamned difference to you, darlin'."

"Could you throw a bit of cheese in with that whine, Logan?" I demanded, sliding off of the table and shoving him backwards with the palms of my hands. "I heard you went after him, all right. But they failed to mention that you caught him. Oh, that's right!" I sneered, glaring up at him as his eyes narrowed into darkened slits. "I heard you took a couple in the head before going down, literally, as you fell over the side of the roof and into a fucking dumpster. So, maybe I should applaud you! Maybe I should-"

"Fine! Y' wanna find someone t' blame so that you can take out yer anger? Fine!" he cut me off, grabbing me by the wrists as he backed me against the table. His nostrils flared as he snorted loudly, his breath pushing my hair out of my face. "Let it out. Blame me, I can shoulder it. Fuck, give me somethin' to do. Waitin' 'round here is driving me fucking nuts. So blame me! Come on! Take it out on me!" he bellowed, his voice nearly a roar.

I wrenched my hands out of his grasp immediately, drawing back my right hand and balling my fingers into a fist. Anger coursed through my veins, anger that was mixed with a heavy dose of confusion, as I swung forward. I drew back at the last second, my eyes locked on his penetrating gaze as my fist stopped a mere inch or so from his jaw. "Why are you such an ornery son of a bitch?"

"Y' think I'm ornery?" he ground out, reaching forward and forcing my uplifted fist to my side. "Y' should get a look at ol' Remy if y' think I'm bad, sweet cheeks. Not only is he up to his neck in that shit called love, but thanks t' some fuckin' bracelet Rob was wearin', ol' remarkably sober Stark learned that the reason she was in th' line of fire at all was because of him."

The silence in the room was so thick that I imagined that I could slice it open with a knife. Images, painful images that were a mixture of dreams and visions that I'd had what felt like ages ago, flashed before my eyes as my legs began to quiver. Sadness crept over my suddenly fatigued body as I pictured the man that had promptly stolen Robyn's heart away, the man that I knew was supposed to play an important role in her life.

Poor Remy, I thought to myself, blinking to keep the tears from falling. "I- I didn't think about him," I finally managed, shame coloring my cheeks.

"That's right," he muttered, self-righteously. "Y' didn't think 'bout anythin' or anyone but yerself. My, aren't we a little selfish?" He paused, clearly waiting for a comment or a kick to the groin, but I remained quiet, thoughtful. A sigh shook through his body as he let go of me completely, taking a step back to run a hand through his already tousled hair. "Ain't seen hide or tail of 'im, but I know he gets in to sit with her somehow. Catch his scent all th' time, that sneaky bastard. You think yer hurtin'? Just how the fuck do y' think he feels?"

He was right. The man in front of me that had driven me insane during my short stay at the Mansion, was right. "I should- I should go find him. Right? I mean, maybe I can..." I trailed off, at a loss for words. Having a pity party together didn't seem like the brightest idea in the world.

"Stark had this bracelet on 'er, this machine thing that he was usin' to test out 'er powers before it all went down," he continued, quietly. His eyes had lost some of their primitive anger, but he still looked ready rip me a new one. "That Robyn's one remarkable woman, y' know. Stark, wit' the help of the bracelet and Chuck's input, learned that she'd done more than freeze time. Somehow, I ain't no mathema-whatever, but somehow she undid it. She went back in time, and took the shot for Remy. Not sure if she meant to but-"

"She went back in time?" I asked, jaw dropped as I held my shaking hands at my sides. "You're serious?" The mere thought, the concept alone, was completely ludicrous. Stopping time? Traveling through time?

He nodded slowly, stepping away to widen the gap between us to a more comfortable length. "'parently Remy was shot, and she went back, made it so that he wasn't shot. But- But somehow it was her instead. It was her. She-"

The sound of the door opening, and rather loudly, drew both of our gazes to the far wall where a large and imposing figure stood, face emotionless. I sensed rather than saw Logan tense as the figure walked into the room, bushy brows narrowed slightly. "She," Victor seemingly picked up where Logan had left off, suddenly reminding me just how strong his senses were. "She wasn't meant t' be the target. Tracked the sonnuvabitch," he snarled at Logan as he stopped in his tracks, his tawny hair pulled back in a band and his face so fierce that it made me shudder. "Fury was th' intended target. Shooter just wasn't that good at his job."

All of the pieces of the puzzle seemed to clink into place, albeit slowly. The bottom line was that it was nobody's fault, not really. Robyn was, ironically enough, in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least, Remy had been. Robyn was merely guilty of that sickly sweet emotion known commonly as love.

Snorting, I let a few of the tears fall free, well aware of the way that Victor's eyes zeroed in on me, no doubt disgusted by such a display of emotion. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and forced myself to fight back anymore tears, unwilling to show anymore weakness in front of either of the men that seemed to fight for the right to fill up the entire room. "Did you catch up with him?"

"'Course," he replied gruffly, as though the question was annoying, like a pesky mosquito. "Got some info. A name."

I sucked in a deep breath as I took a hesitant step forward, the implications of his words churning through my mind slowly. "So you know who's behind it? Who tried to take out Fury?" I questioned, blood boiling at the thought of meeting the perpetrator face to face. It was so out of character, so unlike me. And yet, the boiling rage felt so bloody natural.

"Perp gave me a name before I ripped him apart," teeth gleamed as he smiled, ferally. "Been ordered to investigate. I head out in forty-eight hours, frail. Y' comin'?" he asked, surprising me with the fact that he made it sound like it was actually my choice.

"I- I don't know," I managed, looking between him and Logan. "I need to stay here with Robyn and-"

"First hurdle'll be over in about thirty-six hours. All's well after that," he gruffly muttered as he looked between Logan and me. "If she lives through that shit, she's in the clear."

Logan reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder, immediately eliciting a low warning growl from Victor. I jumped slightly, jerking away from Logan and staring at Victor with widened eyes, well aware of the way that Logan looked between the two of us curiously. I could almost hear him sniff the air loudly before he muttered something rather vulgar under his breath. "Well, Creed," he snarled, moving toward the door with long-legged, sure strides. "Least you ain't killed this one yet."

As the door slammed shut behind him, I found myself locked in a staring battle with the man that, just hours before, had been wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. So much had happened in the space of just a few hours, so much, in fact that it felt like it had been months rather than hours. And yet, as I walked slowly toward him, I could still distinctly remember how his hands felt tangled in my hair.

No going back to that now, though.

"Woman," he managed, his broad shoulders going back and his jaw tightening as I paused in front of him, the top of my head almost reaching his shoulder. "If the Runt puts his hands on ya again, I'll-"

"You'll what?" I prompted, arching a brow as I lifted my chin, daring him to say something completely chauvinistic. When he didn't reply, sucked in a deep breath, hoping that he thought I was sighing rather than realizing I was merely inhaling and swimming on his scent. "Forty-eight hours?"

He nodded, sliding his left hand out of the large pocket of his dark leather trench coat and lifting it toward my face slightly. Suddenly well aware of the fact that my eyes were probably red and puffy from crying, that my face was probably pale and dry, I felt frozen. When his palm cupped my cheek, I exhaled, surprised to learn that I had been holding my breath. "Always with the caterwauling."

Tears blurred my vision immediately at the unexpected softness in his gaze. Leaning into his touch, I found myself fighting the urge to bury my face against his chest and sob. "I'm starting to lean more toward the hopeful spectrum of this whole thing. After all, she's in SHIELD's capable hands, and this bitching and moaning hasn't really gotten me anywhere. I feel kinda numb but-"

"You talk too fuckin' much," he grunted, tightening his grasp as he cupped my cheek just a bit more tightly. His eyes were piercing, a dark rich amber as they stayed latched onto mine. "If y' don't wanna go, I understand. But, wouldn't y' rather explain t' her that you got the bastards back, that y' dug deep and took care o' it for her?"

"You're talking about revenge," I murmured, shifting my gaze away. "Do I really seem like the type to sink that low?"

The room was completely quiet, so quiet that I probably could have heard his heart beating if I'd leaned just a bit closer. Slowly, he shook his head before drawing me upwards, forcing me to stand on my tiptoes as I parted my lips, begging for him to kiss me. "Revenge is part of the circle o' life, frail, eye for an eye kinda bullshit. It's natural."

"Okay," I found myself whispering in response, eyes slightly glazed over. "You know, this- whatever happened in the cabin probably shouldn't be repeated. I mean, isn't there enough going on without adding this fucked up situation into it? Maybe we-" he cut me off suddenly, his lips finally meeting mine ruthlessly.

My fingers clung to the lapel of his leather jacket as his lips scorched me to the bone. The stress, the grief, and even the guilt seemed to slip away as he tangled his fingers in my hair and drew me upward, pressing me against his hardened chest. When he finally pulled away, I found myself dazed, still reaching upwards on my tiptoes, eyes glazed over.

His eyes narrowed into darkened slits as he released his hold on me and took a full step back, nearly causing me to topple forward. A mask fell over his features, hiding the desire that had filled his eyes just moments before. "We take care o' this shit and then," he let out a low warning growl, "Then we talk."

Suddenly, the thought of my best friend recovering from a terrible incident was tied to a chat I most certainly did not want to have.

Rob, we've got a lot to talk about when you wake up.