Chapter XVI: Bone-aching and Bone-breaking (Max/Chloe/Max) - Monday
AN:
Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
Sorry for the delay on last week's update. Being sick isn't exactly conducive to getting the creative juices flowing. Updated a couple extra things this week though, as an apology for missing last week. Also to try actually get these things moving a little more quickly.
Also, does anyone know a place where I can find out some more about agender/genderfluid people, or is anyone agender/genderfluid and willing to answer a couple questions? I have a couple of character ideas for my fics and, since I was just making them cis-het types with an agender nametag, which is pointless, I think actually learning more about the demographic might help get their backstories and experiences and such down.
Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.
shane:
MORE CHAPTERS COMING RIGHT UP!
Momijifan Low-Ki:
Oh, don't worry. Max is gonna go through a few more terrible and life-changing things before she gets off the Island. :)
All jokes aside though, yeah, it totally sucks. But hey, that's life. Sometimes training and hard work just aren't enough. You can be as prepared and as ready for something as possible and still lose. But that just means you gotta keep on going and find new ways to win. Dream the Impossible Dream and all that. :)
goddragonking:
Aww, thanks goddragonking. Glad to hear you like it. Updates for this should hopefully come a little more often over the next couple months. I've got a lot of the rest of this planned out now, so I've a pretty good idea of where I'm taking this story and what's coming up and all that stuff that (again, hopefully) will make it easier to write in the future.
Aaron Leach:
Thanks Aaron. Always glad to hear you like it. If I ever lose your consistent approval, that's when I know I'll have screwed up massively. :)
Ugh.
Dog, I hate Mondays now.
Rachel and Chloe had dragged me out to the Junkyard on Saturday afternoon, after I'd been out in Portland since class let out on Friday, and we'd stayed out until about thirty minutes ago when Rachel realised we had class. She strolled in, casual and graceful as ever, took her usual seat next to Kate and proceeded to scandalise the girl with all the 'hottest' gossip.
I stumbled in a few minutes later, vending machine energy bar and energy drink clutched in my shaking hands, slumped down in the seat next to them and tried my best to stay awake. I could live with less sleep than them, but I still needed some. My weird mutant abilities ran pretty hot, and I needed a lot of energy to keep them all up. Hence the energy food I'd scavenged from a vending machine. The drink claimed it would regenerate some of the Neurotransmitters I needed to speed up my reaction times, for example. Right now, I was slightly weaker than the average human.
When I'd sat down, Rachel had chuckled, and elbowed Kate for support in mocking my exhaustion. Kate, the sweetheart, had just given me a concerned look and asked if I was feeling unwell.
I concentrated for a second, pulling together the energy to answer, but all I could manage was an irritated glare in Rachel's direction. When Kate's concern only intensified, Rachel just leaned in conspiratorially. I thought she was going to be reassuring. I really should've known better. With a wink to Kate and a leer to me, she quips. "She's more than fine, Katie Kat. Me and Chloe just, uh, kept her up way past her bedtime, the poor thing." Cue eyebrow waggle. "Not that she was complaining last night."
I groan, and let my head flop down. Rachel gives a wicked little chuckle, and a bright red blush immediately spreads across Kate's cheeks, and her eyes flick down to the table as she stammers. "O-oh, I... um."
Rachel cackles, and I get another burst of exhaustion. Or possibly frustration. She does take mercy on Kate, though, and explains the innuendo. "We just hung out too long over the weekend, Kate. Didn't get much sleep. Max just can't say no to me, right Max?"
I give another irritated glare, and give an eyeroll any middle sibling would be proud of. Rachel just smiles. "See?"
Kate is not convinced. "Rachel! Max clearly needs to sleep! You've got to let her do that!"
I raise a halfhearted hand in total fucking agreement. Dog, I needed to sleep.
Rachel just bats it off, and rattles off another quip too quickly for my tired brain to pick up on. Even Kate's answer just passes me by, but not because I'm tired.
"Wow." I look up to see Rachel peering at something over by the door. Following her eye, I see a thoroughly beaten-up looking Nathan Prescott glaring down anyone looking in his direction. When he spots me looking, he gives me an annoyingly appraising once-over, then proceeds to ignore me and shove his way past everyone to his seat. "He certainly had a wild weekend, hmm? He looks terrible, even for him."
His chair sends a loud clatter through the room as he slumps into it, and Victoria gives him an arch look. "Jesus, Nate. You look like..." She scans him once, up and down, then rolls her eyes. "I don't even know what you look like, but it's fucking horrific. What the fuck happened to you?"
His glare suddenly turns on her. Something in her face must've gotten to him, because the glare immediately softens. Not to normal, affectionate levels, but he didn't look like he was planning her murder inside his head anymore, so that's some progress. "Some fucker thought he could take me. I thoroughly disabused him of the notion." He grins, running his tongue along his teeth. There's a line of blood running in the gaps near his canines.
Victoria turns up her nose, probably at the idea of fighting someone. I mean, she might chip a nail, dog forbid! Now that I think about it, it could also be the blood. After a quick murmur from her, Nathan wipes his hand across his mouth, and it comes away bloody. His teeth are clean now though.
Mostly.
He chuckles, and their conversation goes inaudible, even to my senses. I turn back in irritation to find both Rachel and Kate tilting their heads at me. "Uh, really focused there, huh, Max?"
I tilt my head right back. I have no idea what that means, and I say so.
"I don't know what that means."
"You just spent the last..." Kate glances down at her watch. "Three minutes staring at Nathan Prescott."
"And more importantly," Rachel interrupts. "He didn't eviscerate you for disrespecting his family name!" A quick feline grin. "I think he likes you."
I snort. "I'm new and unknown. I'm sure he'll work out how to bully me soon. Besides, aren't you curious? I mean, wowzers, just look at him. What the hell happened?"
Rachel and Kate both shake their heads. Very, very emphatically. "No thanks, Maxie. I like being able to sleep at night. Nathan can keep his crap to himself."
Kate quickly agrees. "Nathan Prescott does some very... strange things. I don't want to be a drama queen, but I'm way happier not knowing. You know?"
I shrug, and let it drop. With them, anyway. I needed answers.
I spend the rest of the lesson sitting quietly, mulling over the possibilities, letting my classmates jokes and laughter wash over me. I'd run into him on Saturday evening, maybe Sunday morning. Had he been going to wherever he got hurt then?
Eventually though, the lesson ends. Rachel and Kate get up from beside me, and the three of us start heading out to our next class. As I exit the classroom, I feel a gaze upon me. I turn, and meet the piercing blue eyes of Nathan Prescott. I shudder, and dash out as quickly as I can manage. I had no more classes today, maybe beating up some Prescott agents would help me forget that look. Hell, maybe I could even rescue some more people.
Helping was... nice.
Ugh. I stomp out of the coffeeshop, leaving the jeering laughter behind me. "I have seriously got to stop telling them shit."
Coffee of Doom. Pfft. More like... Coffee of... of... Fucking Nosy Bitches!
Yeah.
That told them.
I sigh.
Fuck.
Gotta get home now, I guess. I growl down the street, glaring at whatever fucking assholes had the gall to get in my damn way. This main road no-parking bullshit hella sucks. I'm gonna be walking for... uh...
I check my phone.
Twenty minutes! Seriously? Ugh. This is the last time I'm driving here. The bus hella sucks, but compared to walking? Cakewalk. I'll take the bus. Buses win every time. (AN1)
I tread along the sidewalk, hands in my pockets, beanie perched on my head, eyes on the ground. For a second, I think about lighting a cigarette, but fuck it. I can wait 'til I get to the truck. I stroll along, thinking about those bitches back in the coffeeshop, being hella stupid and ignoring everything around me.
Which, like every fuckin' bullshit after school special out there predicted, is when shit goes down.
A hand suddenly flashes out of nowhere and grabs me, then pulls me into an alleyway. The guy holding the knife is flanked by two others; all three of them are hella scruffy-looking, dressed in thick jackets and, oh yeah, one of them is pointing a knife at me. Wait, no, they all have knives.
Assholes.
I make hella sure not to make any sudden movements, and to keep my eyes on him instead of the knife. It's hard, and my eyes keep flicking back to the knife, but I keep eye contact. Mostly.
"Hey, dude. Calm down, okay? What do you want? My wallet?"
He grins. "Smart one, girlie. Hand it over."
I immediately toss it to him. That was one thing I listened to step-douche about when he insisted on rambling bullshit at me after I got this job. If you get mugged, you hand your crap over immediately. Heroes are just people who get other people killed. And since I was the only other person around, heroism was hella low on my list.
Fortunately though, someone turned up who apparently disagreed with my definition, as a harsh and gravelly voice cuts through the silence in the dark alley.
"Get away from the girl."
All four of us look over to see a short figure standing deeper in the alley. A short, cowboy-outfit wearing figure. I'm hella certain they weren't wearing spurs, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were. They even have a poncho. Who wears a fucking poncho? The stetson was pretty cool though, I'll give 'em that.
The three dudes attacking me don't seem as impressed. They fan out down the alleyway, twisting their knives in front of them as they make hella lame threatening banter at each other. The cowboy person doesn't bat an eye at their threats. They don't even move.
The three dudes continue on, though, closing quickly on the cowboy person.
Oh. Cowboy Girl. No. Cowgirl? Either way, those're definitely tits.
The second they get close, the cowboy-girl-person-thing explodes into movement. She spins outward, sweeps one guys legs out from under him, somehow gets him over her shoulders, and throws him into the other two, all without stopping the spin. The three idiots end up in a groaning pile on the ground. When one manages to wiggle free and re-grab one of the knives, she serenely raises an arm, and something on her wrist (is that a crossbow?!) launches at him. It suddenly bursts and the guy gets wrapped in a pile of webbing. With hella alarming calmness, she does the same to the other two, leaving them in a pile of web on the ground, then hops over them and walks over to me.
She stops, just short of me, and there's a kinda awkward beat of silence where we just sorta look at each other for a while.
Honestly, I was kinda terrified. She just took out three knife-wielding assholes in about that many seconds. Even now, just standing there and facing me, she looked hella dangerous. Her stance had that kind of solid balance martial artists had, and she was scanning the alleyway constantly.
"Uh. Thanks, whoever you are. Those assholes would've hella fucked me up, uh, if you hadn't come along. So..." She just stands there, staring. "Uh... yeah. Thanks for that." I breathe out deeply. Still no reaction from her. She might as well be a fucking statue. "Yeah. How did you do that shit? And what did you do to the dudes on the ground, with, like, the webbing and shit? Are you Spiderman?"
She tilts her head at that, like a curious puppy. "Spiderman?" She asks, and I am honestly shocked. Who the hell hasn't heard of Spiderman? Even people marooned on desert islands have heard about Spiderman!
"I, uh..." There's more important stuff to deal with right now. "Nevermind. So, uh, do you have a name or something? You're wearing a mask, so I know better than to ask your name."
The head tilt becomes more amused than curious, and I swear I hear a chuckle. I guess she got the reference. Who knows V for Vendetta and not fucking Spiderman? Seriously. "I go by Stranger."
"Stranger?"
She nods. "Like the cowboy movies?" She waves a hand vaguely downward. "That's why I'm wearing this."
"Huh. On theme, I guess? I'm Chloe."
She nods again.
Huh.
Well.
Yes.
Now what?
"Call the police. Report the attack. Tell them about me, or not, if you want. And stay safe."
With that, she turns to leave. I rush forward, reaching out to grab her arm. She immediately slaps it away, and bolt of pain that shoots out from where she hit me is startlingly strong. I flinch back from my saviour, grimacing. "Okay, no touching then. Sorry, I just... why did you help me?"
She shrugs. "Sometimes, everyone needs a little help. You needed help. I was in a place where I could help you. That's all."
I watch her turn back away from me and fade away into the dark.
As soon as she's gone, I take a deep fucking breath, leaning against the wall with one hand. Woah. That could've gone way differently. Coming down from an adrenaline rush is not fun. It's also distracting as hell, so when one of the unconscious idiots lets out a groan, I jump about 3 fucking feet in the air.
Cops. Gotta call the Cops.
Wowzers.
I get as clear of the alley as I can as fast as I can, and find a discreet wall to lean against while I hyperventilate. Chloe was almost... She could've... That was... And now she saw... And I had to...
Fucking.
Wowzers.
AN1 - This does not reflect the opinion of the writer. I like walking. Walking infinitely beats out the travesty that is riding the bus. Just seems like it would be a thing Chloe complains about when she's gotta do it, but secretly really enjoys it with company (a la Max and the Lighthouse Tower).
