Disclaimer: Marvel owns these characters, not me.
Rating: Rated M for strong language, sex and violence.
Summary for this chapter: Anna and Remy finally reunite, but will they escape?
Author notes: ***Just a small trigger warning that there is a small amount of blood-letting at the beginning of this chapter, so if that bothers you, please read with caution***
Since I took an age to post this I'll just dispense with the notes and let you get on with reading it. Good news though - I completed the corrections to my thesis and they were accepted, so I have been officially been awarded my doctorate. Now I have lots of Romy fics to catch up on! Looking forward to it! :)
Please read, review and enjoy!
-Ludi x
- 52 PICKUP -
Chapter 37
Her meals became a measure of a different kind, no longer a device through which to measure time, but her own strength.
She ate and drank whatever they gave her, and slowly she began to recover herself. There was purpose in her now, a sense of imminent escape, of blessed resolution. She was Weapon Zero, but she was also Anna Marie Raven, a woman on a mission for herself and no other. She was resolved to follow it through to the bitter end.
At last the day came when she felt strong enough to put her plan into action. She sat on her cot and waited for the right time. When it arrived she slipped Raven's pen from out of her sleeve and pressed the button on the side. The spike snapped out the end.
Anna paused and took a measured breath.
There were ways to slit one's wrists to maximise the chances and speed of death – she knew that, intimately. These were methods she was careful to avoid now. She scored the blade carefully across her wrist. Blood began to flow almost immediately, bringing with it an oddly familiar sense of catharsis. She ignored it with an effort. When she was done she retracted the blade, screwed the cap back on the pen, and secreted it back in her clothing. She squeezed the blood out of her wrist and onto her fingers, smeared it across the wall and the bedsheets. Then she lay flat on her stomach and prayed someone would come soon.
Drip, drip, drip.
She could feel the blood trickling down her hand and onto the floor, all the precious strength she'd conserved the past few days slowly ebbing away.
Please someone come. Please.
Dinner was soon, she knew it. Someone would deliver. Someone had to.
The next five minutes passed like an agonising lifetime, and then suddenly there were footsteps – she held her breath and waited. She heard the window panel in the door clunk open, then shut. She knew her ruse had worked when, instead of the usual porthole opening up and her next meal being pushed through, she heard the sounds of the door unlocking, and – finally – opening up.
She didn't dare move, hardly dared breathe.
"Shit," a female voice muttered. "Shit, shit shit."
The footfalls approached, closer and closer, right up to the bed and—
Anna sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, tackling the woman to the bed and finding the pressure points in her neck with ease. A mere few seconds had passed before the woman was unconscious, lying slack and unmoving on the bed.
Anna got to her feet and panted.
There was a time she would have taken this woman's life without a second thought, but now… …
No time to second guess it.
The first thing she did was rip a strip of bedsheet up and bandage the wound on her wrist. Then she got to work undressing her quarry and switching up their clothing. Three minutes later and the guard was safely under the covers of the cot, looking for all the world as if she was asleep.
Anna stood back and observed the little tableau she'd created. She regarded the blood smears on the wall and the sheets with dissatisfaction – these would alert the next guard who came along, and cut short her ruse pretty quick. But – desperate times and all that. She twisted her hair up on her head and slipped the guard's cap on, pulled it as low over her face as practicable. Then she slipped out the cell, shutting the door quietly behind her. Her dinner tray was on the floor out in the hallway, and she slipped it innocuously through the porthole. Better not to leave it outside and raise anymore alarm bells than necessary.
She paused and closed her eyes briefly, effortlessly recalling Raven's hidden code. LB025 96552 106 B088.
Right, she thought. LB25.
First thing was first. She had to find an elevator.
-oOo-
It wasn't long before she was one level down on the lower basement floor, and as soon as she had exited the elevator the communicator pinned to her breast kicked in.
"Harper," a male voice on the other spoke. "Report."
Anna touched the device at her chest.
"Harper here," she replied neutrally. "All normal. Over."
"Roger," the voice replied without pause, and the line cut out.
She walked casually down the hallway, observing the door numbers as she went, stopping when she finally reached her target.
Room 25.
She ignored the closed-circuit cameras she knew were watching, and punched the code into the control panel. 96552.
The door whipped open.
Anna breathed and stepped inside, wondering, fleetingly, whether she was just walking into another trap.
It was a locker room.
Rows of white closets lined the walls, and she walked alongside them, remembering the next part of Raven's code.
106.
She located it easily, and when she tried the door she found, unsurprisingly, that it was unlocked. The first thing she saw inside was a small, white keycard; and beside this, neatly packed and folded, was all the gear she'd come here with. There was a black Empharma backpack in there too, and she looked inside it. Remy's gear was there.
She exhaled noisily.
It was clear, at this point, that Raven was helping her, or appeared to be helping her, and feelings of mistrust and betrayal swam to the forefront of her consciousness. There was every chance that this was another deception – but what did she have left to lose? Either she escaped here or she died here – everything else in-between was academic.
Remy's situation was a little less so, but she was trying her darndest not to let that get the better of her right now.
It was at that very moment that her communicator kicked in.
"All operatives on levels LB and 1 to level B, immediately. Subject escape from cell B5, presumed armed and dangerous, in operative uniform. Repeat – all operatives on levels LB and 1 to level B."
Anna swore silently to herself. From here on in the heat was on and then some.
She pocketed the keycard, shoved her stuff into the backpack and slipped it on quickly. Then she slammed the locker door shut and marched out without once looking back.
-oOo-
She did what everyone else was doing – headed to the basement.
Of course everyone knew to look out for someone dressed as a guard, but as long as she swam with the shoal and didn't do anything out of place, she figured she'd be pretty safe – for now. She joined up with a unit that seemed to be patrolling sectors 7 and 8 of the basement level. The last part of Raven's code was pretty clear – B088.
She allowed herself to fall behind the group by degrees, and as she neared room 88 she lagged sufficiently behind that they didn't even notice when she failed to turn the corner with them. She stopped outside the room, looked down both ends of the corridor to check the coast was clear, and took out the keycard.
As soon as she lifted it to the control panel, the door swept open.
Anna took a step inside and stopped.
It was a med room, made up for a single occupant. It'd obviously been in use until very recently – the bed covers were still rumpled, the heart monitor still running, the wires from the drip and sensor pads lying haphazard on the mattress. Exactly as if someone had just upped and left – without permission.
All her senses told her this was a trap, and she was just about to turn and leave when the door snapped shut behind her… and before she even had time to react someone had locked her in a choke hold and was squeezing the breath out of her.
In a microsecond all her training came welling to the surface – she didn't even have to think. She took a swift, left step back behind her aggressor, changing up the centre of gravity between them, and pushed back against his chest with her left elbow, knocking him off balance and onto his back. Just as she was about to put him down for good with a swift kick to the head, he'd already pre-empted her, rolling aside and leaping nimbly to his feet, dancing on his toes like he was ready for a fight.
It was Remy.
His name had barely risen to her lips and he was already charging at her, her astonishment a temporary advantage that he was using to full effect. Only a fist to the jaw brought her to her senses, and she took the hit, spinning chest-first into the wall, the cutting edge of her reflexes bringing her hand to her holster, whipping out the guard's gun faster than thought.
She aimed the gun right at his chest and he came to an abrupt halt, surprised at her dexterity.
"Remy," she said between dragged-out breaths, "it's me. Anna."
Her voice alone was enough.
He blinked, his eyes widening with recognition, his stance slowly relaxing.
"Anna?"
She nodded wordlessly, breathing hard, suddenly unable to speak.
His only answer was to reach for the gun, working it slowly out of her grasp. She let him, and he threw it aside with a clatter, took a step forward, inching into her space like he couldn't quite believe his own eyes. She turned away from the wall, facing him, her breath catching in her throat to see that he was alive, he was fighting, he was okay. His fingers touched the visor of her cap and gently lifted it aside, letting her hair uncoil round her shoulders; he dropped the cap to the floor and suddenly his palms were on her face, cupping her cheeks, touching her as if he'd never hoped to see her again… And she closed her eyes, surprised to find tears of relief welling inside her.
"Remy," she whispered. "Remy, you're okay."
She threw her arms round him and buried her face in his neck, never realising before how good it was to feel his skin on her lips and his warmth on her cheek, to smell the scent of his body. The fear of loss had emboldened her – she held him tighter than she would ever have dared before this moment.
"God, after what happened back there I thought I wasn't ever gonna see you again… …" she found herself admitting, more to herself than to him. There was so much more that she felt the need to say, but he didn't wait to hear it, simply pulling her into an impatient kiss that communicated just as clearly what his own fears had been.
For a few moments they held one another close, only breaking apart when the precariousness of their situation began to sink back in. He grasped her by the upper arms and pushed her slightly away from him, running his eyes over her as though to make sure he really wasn't dreaming. His gaze caught the bandage on her wrist, and almost immediately his expression turned dark.
"You're bleeding," he said.
She took in a breath, then another, momentarily confused, until she looked down and saw her blood staining the bandage.
"I'm okay," she told him in a low voice. "It was… necessary."
His mouth went flat.
"You managed to escape," he stated rather than asked. "Is dat what all the excitement outside is?"
She nodded.
"Yeah… …"
He stifled an oath and let go of her, striding over to the door and making sure the blind over the window was drawn.
"Dis room ain't safe," he muttered to himself. "We're sittin' ducks in here – any number of Empharma employees could have a keycard to the door. Not to mention Essex hisself." He paused and looked over his shoulder at her curiously. "How th' hell did you find me?"
She hesitated, not entirely sure she could explain the entire story.
"Raven," she answered. His eyes narrowed and he sniffed incredulously.
"Raven? Dat bitch is dead next time I see her."
His voice was flat with unrepentant loathing, prompting her to shake her head slowly.
"She pretty much helped me to escape, Remy. I'm pretty sure she's on our side."
He turned away from the door to face her.
"If she's on our side," he began coldly, "then why th' hell did she betray us in the first place?"
Anna made no reply for a few moments. Since her last encounter with Raven she'd barely had a chance to evaluate any of this, but now, all things considered, she felt she might have an idea of what her former mentor's motivations might have been. She hoped, at least, that her hunch was correct, and that this all wasn't just another grand betrayal.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," she admitted at last. "But trusting her has brought me this far, and I don't have much else to work with. We don't have much else to work with. If you trust me, you're gonna haveta trust her, Rem."
She'd expected some push back on this point, and so she was surprised when all he did was cock her a slow, wide smile.
"What?" she asked, nonplussed.
"Rem," he replied after a moment. "You called me Rem." He laughed and she must've looked offended because he hastened to add: "Don't worry. I like it."
He turned aside and began to pace the room thoughtfully.
"Fine. Raven got you this far. She give you any clue 'bout what t'do next?"
She shrugged.
"I guess she reckoned the two of us could figure that out between ourselves…"
He stopped short and laughed.
"Ha! Woulda been nice if she could'a given us a hint." His eyes roamed the room ruefully. "Spent the last few days tryin' to figure out how t'escape this place. Once I got outta those fuckin' bindings, gettin' out woulda been a piece o' cake. What t'do once I was on the other side o' that door was gonna be the real problem." He gave her a penetrating stare, and she gave him a lop-sided smile.
"Lemme guess – you thought I was a guard, and that I was gonna be your ticket outta here."
He grinned, appreciative of the fact that she could keep up with him.
"Ha. Yeah. The guards visit every couple o' hours – it's the only time this damn door opens – 'part from Essex's evenin' visits, o' course. Figured I could steal a uniform and sneak out, get m'self a headstart. Never figured you'd come waltzin' in. Shoulda known somethin' was up when you showed up completely off schedule." He laughed lightly. "Don't get me wrong, chere. It's good to have you here instead. Hope I didn't hurt you too much."
She tried a grin and touched her jaw.
"No. Nothin' busted. You sure pack a punch though."
"Heh." His smile grew wider. "You better believe it." He paused, the smile slowly fading from his face. "You've kinda thrown my plans off though, chere. In that uniform you can walk around this place pretty easy, but me… …"
"So we wait for the next security guard t' check on you."
He pursed his lips and shook his head.
"Next scheduled visit is Essex. If we're gonna get outta here, we're gon' haveta do it now. Was still plannin' to blow up that frikkin' Machine too, but I ain't got none of my gear no more… …"
He faltered off when she suddenly began to march towards the bed with purpose, slipping the backpack off her shoulders as she did so. When she got there she up-ended the bag and spilled all its contents onto the mattress. It was almost worth it just to see the look of amazement cross his face.
"Yah trust Raven now?" she asked.
It took him about a split second to recover himself.
"My phone in there?"
She rummaged through the items and found it under his clothes.
"Yup."
She tossed it to him.
"Thank God," he murmured after giving it a cursory check. "It still has juice in it."
"Why? You need to make a call?"
He gave her a look.
"This," and he lifted up the phone, "is a detonator, chere. It's synced to the explosives I rigged the Machine with. I hit the button, the whole thing is blown t'hell. The perfect distraction for us to get the fuck outta here."
Anna made no reply, treating his words with such uncharacteristic silence that his gaze immediately rose to hers. There was no mistaking the flat line of her mouth, the hard glint in her eyes. It brought him to a screeching halt.
"You still wanna restore the backup," he stated quietly.
She dropped her eyes and he knew it was the truth.
"Why?" he asked her. She said nothing and he threw the phone back onto the bed, pressed his hands into the mattress and leaned towards her, trying to catch her eyes. "Anna. We can't do this. We can't start up the Machine again. We don't have Essex's part of the code."
Right then – that was the moment she chose to raise her eyes to his and meet his gaze head on. The stubborn wildcat was back and he knew exactly what it meant.
"Unless we wait for Essex to make his rounds," he murmured, syncing with her thoughts effortlessly, "and get the code straight from the horse's mouth."
She didn't even waver.
"Exactly."
He let out a long exhalation.
"You still wanna do this, Anna? Despite what it could do to your mind? Despite what it probably will do?"
She passed him a look that was half sad, half determined.
"I stand more of a chance of this working now than I ever did," she answered softly. "Essex knew that with the state my mind was in I wouldn't survive the Machine long. So he gave me the gene therapy, Remy – the same therapy he used to cure you. I don't have any of the symptoms of mem-intoxication anymore – no more tremors, stutters, random flashbacks… they're all gone."
His expression closed off, went blank – exactly the way it had when she'd laid out his past before him, all the secrets he'd thought Essex had scrubbed, that night at La Princesse.
"Look, Remy," she continued seriously, "I'm not gonna hold you to any of this. This is my thing. You've risked enough for me. Let me handle this from here. I'll take care of the Machine, after I've 'faced with it. You leave. We'll meet back up on the outside."
The blankness of his expression broke, but not in the way she thought it would. Where she'd expected anger, indignation, instead he laughed, soft and rueful.
"Y'think I can just leave you here? By yourself?" he asked her.
"And you think I can stand by and watch Essex hurt you all over again?"
Her voice was fierce, shot with emotion – a signal for him to back down, one that had never failed to work in the past. It didn't work now. The look he gave her was so penetrating, so intense, that it almost took her breath away.
"You know I can't leave you here, Anna," he said quietly. "Not with the way I am about you right now."
There were so many things he had left unspoken in those words – and yet she knew exactly what he meant. She sucked in an inaudible breath and drew her arms about herself tight.
"I know," she murmured.
"Then don't insult me by sending me away," he returned earnestly. "If you don't come outta that Machine alive and I'm not there for you, you think I could live wit' myself?"
She couldn't help it. Her anger flared.
"And you think I could bear to watch on if Essex or anyone else murdered you?!" she countered hotly. "You think I don't have feelings?! That this is easier for me than it is for you, because I'm Weapon Zero, because I'm only half human?! What Essex did to you—!"
She stopped, choking on the words, unable to say anymore, pressing her lips tight together and turning aside, pulling at her lips in a desperate attempt not to lose it.
"I don't think that, Anna," he spoke after a short silence. "You're good at pretendin' you're invulnerable – and hell, there was a time I woulda believed it. But you ain't, chere. I seen inside you. I seen the person you are. You wear Weapon Zero, you wear the Rogue like a smokescreen to hide what you really are. To fool even yourself into thinkin' you're somethin' you're not. You keep wantin' so hard t'be human, and you know what? You are human. More human than anyone else I've met. We bleed, we hurt, we die. We can't erase all that without takin' away our humanity. If I die, I die. If you die, you die. We shouldn't hide from that fact. If either of us dies, one of us has to be there for the other. I don't wanna die alone. I don't want you to die alone, Anna. I don't think I could take it."
She glanced over at him then, eyes shimmering moistly in the light.
"Do you have any idea," she spoke hoarsely, "what it's like to watch someone you care about die in your arms?"
He looked at her seriously.
"Do have any idea what it's like to know someone you cared about died alone, without you there to say goodbye?"
She looked away again quickly, fighting the horrible pressure behind her eyes.
"Anna," he said when she made no reply, crossing the bed to stand before her. "Lissen t'me. We're a team. We're a fuckin' amazin' team and you know it. Everythin' else aside, that's what we are. We made a deal. I'm gonna help you. You're gonna come to London wit' me."
Despite everything, his words brought a smile to her lips. She dropped her hand from her mouth and shook her head disbelievingly.
"Remy…"
"What?"
"Just… Why the hell London? Of all places?"
He grinned and let out a barely concealed sigh of relief that she was no longer fighting him.
"Was gonna go there," he explained, "when I was in Paris. Had kinda set my heart on it. Then Creed and Vertigo came along and put an end to those plans pretty sharpish." She still looked bemused, and he continued humorously, "Lissen. They speak English in London. And I wanna ride the Eye. Okay? Every time I went there before the queue was too damn long."
The ridiculousness of the statement finally got the tension to abate. Her laugh was soft and helpless as she reached up and clutched onto his shirt with a tentativeness that only thinly disguised her need for something more.
"I can't say no to you," she confessed. "Even if I tried."
He smiled and ran his fingers tenderly over the line of her cheekbone and behind her ear, into her hair.
"Then don't try," he answered simply.
She struggled, briefly, with the desire to push back, to regain control – this ingrained instinct, born from years of lonely self-sufficiency, to take the lead, to trust no one but herself. But it was useless now, and she knew it – all this time she'd opened herself up to him without even knowing it, extended her trust without even realising he'd earned it. She gave up trying before she'd even really begun.
"All right," she whispered. "I guess we did make a deal after all. And business is business."
His fingers were still in her hair, his palm cradling the nape of her neck.
"You can call it business if y'wanna pretend that's what it is, chere. Just as long as you don't forget it's pleasure as soon as we get on that plane to Heathrow."
"How could I forget?" she murmured back. "When you won't let me?"
He smiled at her with all the easy charm that came so naturally to him. Yet as he kissed her she sensed all the things he was holding back, all the things he couldn't or wouldn't say. A sadness he would never voice. She was selfish enough not to question it, not to pull away, not to change her mind. She had wanted too long, and through so much adversity. To have him here with her at all felt like a miracle, a gift. And so she allowed herself to savour this moment, caught as she still was by the fear that this time might be her last; and if it was, she was going to hold onto this moment for as long and as hard as she dared, before it had the chance to be torn from her grasp forever.
-oOo-