Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Marvel and/or 20th Century Fox. Any others vie for control in my head.
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Arioch 4: Healing
One second Toad was unconscious; the next, awake.
He was prone on his back, his vision was blurred. His head turned quickly, back and forth, to take in his surroundings. He was rewarded with sharp, excruciating pain thudding behind his eyes. He did his best to ignore it, but a thin moan wormed its way from between his lips.
"Hey! Stop it!" A woman's voice startled him.
Instantly he was up, backing away, flight reflex in overdrive, scanning for an escape route. His first instinct was to leap; leap high, head to the ceiling—the ceiling, go—go, escape!
Toad vaulted. But his legs, his spine—so strong, so limber, and so faithful—foundered. His equilibrium was gone, his body betrayed him. He only managed to stumble forward, like a fool, and collapse. The agony in his head intensified. Another moan passed his lips, this time louder and tortured; as much from the failure of his limbs as from pain.
As much as he impotently protested, he could not stop someone's hands from turning him upright.
His last defense. His tongue burst from his mouth, aiming approximately where a neck should be, to coil around it and strangle.
A warm hand snatched it from the air before it reached its target.
No one had ever been able to do that.
"Knock it off, Toad!" the woman's voice commanded. "I'm trying to help you!"
With a gentle squeeze to warn him against doing it again, his tongue was released. It returned to its place obediently.
"Holy shit," the woman panted. "What the hell do you think you were doing? Where do you think you were going, anyway?"
Her questions were obviously rhetorical. Toad ignored her and concentrated on attempting to lessen the throbbing in his head. He was vaguely aware of her gently shifting his body into a more comfortable position, adding pillows beneath his knees and others on either side of his body so he could not rock.
Still focused on his inner turmoil, it came as a jolt for him to eventually realize his head rested in her lap.
The ache was fading, just faintly. Now he could feel her fingers, cautious and light, slipping through his hair. She was humming.
What is going on? he thought dumbly.
"Toad?" the woman murmured, as soft as her croon. "Do you know who I am?"
Death, he replied in thought. I never thought of you as a woman, and I never believed you'd be gentle with me . . ..
"You were hit hard—can you tell me who I am?"
Death shouldn't question herself.
"Please, Toad. Can you open your eyes? Just a little?"
. . .
"Please?"
Pleading with me. Being polite. Death treating me as if she cares. No one ever does that. What is going on?
She didn't ask again. Her fingers never stopped delicately massaging his spinning head. Humming filled his ears again.
Marked only by easy caresses and wordless tunes, an uncertain amount of time passed. The aching that dominated his world receded. He finally had the strength and willpower to open his eyes again. They felt—now that he could feel—swollen and hot.
A face swum into view.
"Arioch?" Toad croaked with a burning throat.
A quick smile, gone before it formed completely, flitted across her face.
"Arioch . . . I thought you were Death . . .."
"No," she replied, her voice quiet, as if she knew speaking loudly would damage him again. Even so, there was amusement in her tone. "I'm not Death, Toad. I'm just a minor demon."
He had no clue what she meant.
He tried to swallow; his mouth was too dry. His voice was still a rasp. "Where am I?"
"I brought you to my room."
Toad's watery eyes widened slightly.
"You were hit really hard," she continued. "I think it was Rogue. You lost your hold on the ceiling and fell—you landed on your head. Everyone else bolted, but I . . . I couldn't leave you there.
"I was going to get you back to your ledge. But you were bleeding from your ears, from your nose . . . and I . . ." Arioch paused, and dropped her eyes from his. "I didn't think you should be left alone. I brought you here so I could watch you and make sure you'd be okay."
Toad forced his hand to touch his nostrils and an ear. Unsteadily he brought it before his eyes. No blood. The scent of lavender soap wafted from his fingers.
Seeing the motion, Arioch explained hurriedly, "I cleaned you up."
With a start, she realized her fingers were still brushing through his spiky hair. Her hands jumped away from him.
"I—I'm sorry, Toad."
He cocked his head carefully, a suggestion of his normal gesture. Searching her face, he couldn't help but notice she avoided his eyes. He also noticed that although her fingers had stopped, a ghost touch lingered.
Swallowing was still a difficulty.
"May I have some water?"
Arioch started again, just a bit, at his request, then nodded. Gingerly she lifted his head from her lap and slid a cushion into her place. She stood. He heard her knees and back crack as she hurried to fulfill his request.
Toad closed his eyes to watch the flashes of color behind his lids.
In only a few seconds she returned. She said his name and waited for him to reopen his eyes before carefully lifting his head and holding the glass to his lips.
He took a long sip, almost choked, and labored to swallow. The liquid soothed the rawness. Arioch watched anxiously.
Swallowing more was too difficult. Toad nodded, jarring loose the ache again. She took the glass away and placed his head down again. The pain was less with his eyes shut.
He could sense she hadn't left his side. Her nervousness was apparent.
The tip of his tongue touched his lips. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.
Her clothing rustled slightly as she shrugged. "I . . . don't . . .." Arioch didn't complete her reply. Toad felt her give herself a shake. When she spoke again, it wasn't with the hesitancy she'd displayed since he recognized her. "You need rest, Toad. Don't try to move. If you need anything, call for me."
She moved slightly away from him. In seconds he felt her cover him with a blanket.
"Call for me," she repeated, and she was gone.
~~~~~
Arioch chided herself silently for dozing off again. How long had it been this time? She had wanted to stay awake, to make sure Toad didn't hurt himself again, and had fallen asleep. She had gone to change clothes, and then found herself waking in a heap on the bed. At least last time she dropped off on the couch; she'd been able to calm Toad down almost immediately. But this time . . ..
She passed out of her small bedroom, into the living area where she had left Toad propped with pillows on the floor.
He was gone.
"Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed. "Quinn, you stupid, stupid bitch!"
She pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the stinging tears. Continuing to curse herself ("how could you be so fucking stupid!") half under her breath, she toppled to the couch and stared at the empty space on the floor.
Arioch took a breath and willfully forced her tears to stop. Not having a tissue, she turned her head and wiped the snot off her nose with her sleeve. She gave a shaky sigh and glanced around the room, wondering where her half finished bottle of whiskey had been dropped last time.
Under the couch? Arioch twisted herself to look under it. There it was! She grasped the bottle neck and hauled it out. The cork popped out of her fingers and flew to the floor again. Ignoring it for a moment, she took a long gulp from the bottle to steady herself.
Now. The cork. She stood up, setting the bottle on the floor, kicking the pillows and blanket away to find where it had fallen. She finally located it beside the couch, near the wall.
Toad was there. Hidden between the couch and wall, crouched. His back rested against the wall, and he watched her impassively through bruised eyes. He seemed dazed.
Arioch gasped. "Toad!"
She reached for him, and he cringed at both her voice and hand. Arioch paused.
"You shouldn't be sitting up. Your face is so bruised . . . will you . . . let me help you?"
He continued to sit hunched. His eyes—what little showed through the swollen lids—remained emotionless. But Arioch thought his stance relaxed a minute amount. When she put her hand on his shoulder, he didn't flinch or tremble.
She helped him out of his crevice, and eased him onto the couch. Telling him she'd only be a few minutes, and asking him to stay where he was, Arioch rushed to the bathroom, grabbing washcloths and holding them under the faucet. Wringing out most of the water into the basin, she hurried back to the living room.
Toad had remained on the couch. Arioch knelt beside him, carefully placing the wet cloths on his head and face. Their cool touch seemed to soothe him more.
Arioch sat back on her heels. She reached for the alcohol beside her, and took another drink.
~~~~~
The more Toad healed, the more he insisted on staying hidden, choosing the small area beside the couch as a safe haven. He never slept that she was aware of, and always seemed wary. Arioch brought him water and food, which he barely touched, whether he bid her to or not. She grew accustomed to his almost silent presence, watching her as she went through her daily routine.
He attempted to act as if he had no pain, but she knew it was a lie.
She had been cleaning a gun on the couch, acutely aware he saw her every movement. Occasionally she would cast a glance in his direction. If he lifted his large eyes to hers, they caught the light and glimmered.
Most of his bruising had faded, she noted, when a thunderous knock shook the room. Toad, reclining against the wall, felt the reverberation through the structure and cradled his head with an involuntary cry as he sunk to the floor.
Arioch glanced to determine he would be all right, then dropped the dismantled weapon and cloth. She hurdled to the door, scooping up a sawed off shotgun as she went. The majority of her guns were loaded, and she clicked the safety off as she threw open the door.
Sabretooth stood there, his immense form filling the doorway. He didn't seem upset a double barrel shotgun was fixed at his face. Arioch backed him out of her entrance and pulled the door shut behind her.
"Where is that fuckin' runt?" the huge man demanded.
"Back off, Sabretooth," Arioch replied, her voice low.
"Is he a cripple now? Messed up in the head? Paralyzed? What? That why you hidin' him out in your room? If he's a cripple, he can't do his job. An' that means he'd be better off dead." Sabretooth smiled, showing too many sharpened teeth. "I'm just the man to take care of that."
"You back off, Sabretooth," she repeated, louder, gritting her teeth.
Sabretooth leaned closer to her face. "Or what, little girl? You can't protect that fuckin' stunted—"
The rest of his sentence was choked off as she jammed the barrel of the gun into his throat. With a practiced movement, she cocked the firearm.
"You wanna bet?"
They watched each other, hatred passing between them tangibly. The pressure on Sabretooth's neck never wavered. A silent snarl twisted his face, and he spit,
"Fine, Arioch. You can't hide him forever. I can wait. An' you better be watchin' your back too, little girl."
With that he backed away, and continued down the hallway without a backward glance.
Arioch didn't drop the bead off his back. She finally lowered the gun once he turned a corner.
She let her breath out in a rush.
Around the corner, unseen, Sabretooth grinned at the sound.
~~~~~
Once back in the room, Arioch bolted the door securely. She disengaged the gun but set it in the corner by the door, ready again.
She found Toad still curled on the floor. His nose was bleeding again.
Immediately she knelt beside him in the cramped space confined by the couch, and gathered him to her. There was no reluctance in her touch, and no shrinking back from him. He allowed her to shift his position to one similar to the first day: he on his back, head in her lap, her hands stroking away the thunderbolts of pain rocking him as her fingers slid through his hair.
He realized she was humming again, and that helped too.
~~~~~
Later, with the lights dimmed for his comfort and the blood cleaned from his face, Toad crouched in his corner and scrutinized Arioch. She had, to his surprise, brought him tea instead of water tonight. He hadn't had hot tea since . . . almost since he'd been back in England. He didn't like to eat or drink (or sleep, for that matter) with other people around, but the tea had astonished him and he drained most of the cup.
She, of course, drank whiskey. Emptied a glass, poured herself two fingers more. He had observed her doing this for the last days, and the motion was monotonous.
Toad shifted on his heels, almost imperceptibly. "You drink a lot," he stated. His voice seemed too loud in the still room.
Arioch paused in lifting the glass to her lips. Staring at the amber fluid at the bottom for a second, she replied, "Yeah."
The glass continued its journey, and she emptied it.
"You don't seem much affected by it."
Arioch turned to him. Even in the dim light, his eyes shone. "Most of my liver and brain is already pickled."
"But . . . you don't stagger or slur your words."
"Must be a facet of my mutation." This struck her as funny, and she covered her mouth to giggle.
Toad cocked his head. He knew her mutation; Magneto had briefed the Brotherhood on her abilities before she joined. He didn't comprehend her joke.
"Are your reflexes dulled?"
She shot him a sharp look. "You think you can hit me?"
He assessed her. She hadn't changed position on the couch, still holding the empty whiskey glass, her feet curled under her. She looked a little tired. He made his decision.
"Yes," Toad answered, and without pause his tongue exploded from his mouth.
Again, automatically, he aimed for her neck. He only wanted to tap it, to prove she was intoxicated and wipe the smugness from her face.
Arioch snatched the tip from the air, six inches from her body.
Toad sat, open-mouthed, his tongue in her hand, in shock. It wasn't him. It had nothing to do with his injury; his attack was still lightening swift. It was her.
She gave the same gentle pinch he remembered from before, and opened her fist.
He was speechless. She poured herself another drink.
~~~~~
Eventually she saw his tea was mostly gone. Standing up and cracking her back, she scooped up his cup unceremoniously and headed for the kitchen. In a matter of minutes, she came back with a fresh cup.
Instead of setting it beside him on the floor, like normal, she waited for him to take it from her. He did, with slightly trembling fingers.
She returned to the couch.
Toad shifted again, again minutely, again uncomfortably. He struggled with the question that had eaten his mind with confusion and worry and a little fear. The question he had formed before; the question she would not—or could not—answer earlier. It finally blurted from his mouth, less powerful than his tongue but just as abrupt.
"Arioch, why are you doing this?"
Now she shifted in her spot, uneasy. Her movement was much more exaggerated than his. She refused to meet his gaze. She didn't answer.
"I heard what Sabretooth said. I heard you back him down," he continued in her silence. "No one's ever fought for me. No one's ever cleaned my blood. No one's ever held me. No one's ever . . . cared." He looked at her sharply.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"
Arioch did look to him at his last question. "I don't want anything," she whispered. "I don't know anything, Toad. Even if nobody's cared for you before, you need it now. I've never had anyone to look out for, except myself. But you were unconscious . . . and I just couldn't leave you there. I never meant anything by holding you—it was something you needed, and I wanted to help you.
"I didn't do this because I wanted something from you. I didn't do it because I had some ulterior motive. I just did it. Because I wanted to."
She paused and wiped an arm across her face. Toad saw it was slick with tears.
"I'm sorry, Toad. I'm sorry it made you think you owed me. I know it's every man for himself here. I don't want you to think you have to stay here any longer than you have to . . ..
"I know you don't trust me. Why should you? I'm a merc, only following the money. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so involved. But I wanted to help you . . ..
"I'm just so sorry."
Toad sat mute, absorbing her words. As the silence stretched, Arioch wiped her eyes angrily several more times. Finally her tears quit.
With another shaky sigh, she told him again, "You don't have to stay any longer than you want," and disappeared behind the sheet dividing the room from her bed without looking him in the face again. She dropped the sheet behind her.
~~~~~
In the night Toad crept into her bedroom. He was noiseless, and she did not stir on the bed as he approached.
She was quiet, covered with a blanket, her hair tumbled on the pillow. One hand rested, curled and relaxed, near the profile of her face.
Toad marveled at the hand, so feminine, so seemingly delicate. The hand that was inhumanly quick on a trigger, not timid about taking the life of another. The hand with the reflex to grasp his tongue—something so rapid some people couldn't see it.
The same hand that had traveled through his hair, soothed him tenderly, held his hideous body without uncertainty.
Observing her, he suddenly understood that she trusted him. She knew the law of the Brotherhood—had spoken it just an hour ago!—and yet had faith in him enough to sleep in his presence.
Toad knew that lack of trust in his fellow mutants was the reason he slept lightly, jumping alert at the faintest sound. It was the reason he preferred to eat alone, be alone, in the shadows so he could watch and prepare if a move was made toward him. He had learned the lesson of survival young, and knew it to be the most important knowledge in his mind.
He expected no less from anyone else here.
But Arioch . . . Arioch slept undisturbed, even knowing he was locked in with her.
An odd feeling twisted his stomach.
Toad moved away, and silently made his way back to his corner, his mind whirling with strange thoughts. For the first night since he awoke in this room, he slept soundly.
~~~~~
The next morning Arioch shifted, stretched lightly, and opened her eyes. She knew Toad had to be gone. Funny, it felt a little peculiar to know that she was the only person in her room again. Peculiar enough to give her the stinging sensation of built up tears again.
Damnit, Quinn! she reprimanded herself. Knock it off!
But she had grown used to his almost silent, attentive company.
Shit.
From behind the dividing sheet she could just barely make out a faint shuffling and clicking sound, almost as if someone was rummaging through the living room.
What the--? she thought, forcing herself to be more alert. It didn't help; the noises were too muffled to be identified accurately.
She silently groped for the dagger she stored under the thin mattress, and slid from under the blanket. Willing her feet to make no sound, mindless that she was still wearing only a thin t-shirt and boxer shorts, she carefully drew back the sheet.
The thin vibration the fabric made as it moved alerted her intruder. In a flurry of movement, before she could pinpoint a target, the person had disappeared.
"What the fuck?" she spit, still holding the knife steady, and groping for a nearby automatic pistol with her other hand. Aiming at her bookshelves, where she thought she'd last heard the person, she smoothly sheathed the knife against her forearm and reached for the light switch.
The sudden light blinded her momentarily. She blinked rapidly to force her eyes to recover.
Her aim was true; right at the shelves. In the next second, she had pivoted her mark to Toad, clinging to the ceiling.
"I was only looking," he mumbled quietly.
The gun dropped to Arioch's side, and she sat down heavily on the floor.
~~~~~
Arioch made no mention of the fact he was still in her room, and knew better than to tell him she was glad of it. She again continued her daily routines as before. Something about him had changed, she noted. He seemed a bit more relaxed, now not completely content to stay as small as possible behind the couch. He was more willing to take things directly from her; his hands no longer shook. Once she caught him in a cat nap, and pretended not to notice when he snapped awake. Another time, as she stepped out of the shower, the door swung shut, as if by a draft. She knew she had closed it completely, and had the certain feeling it wasn't the first time Toad had watched her bathe.
Some times at night, after she was in bed, she heard him moving cautiously about the room. Surprisingly, it didn't bother her.
Again, she understood not to directly ask him about his attitude change.
Because he had brought up her drinking habit earlier, Arioch cut a majority of it out. It made her evenings seem longer, with nothing to do with her hands. Bored one night, she went to her shelves, piled haphazardly with various books and CDs. She knew Toad had gone through them several times—she had heard him—but nothing was out of place. Presumably at random, she selected a thin book and carried it back to the couch.
Toad watched her.
Arioch flipped through the book, pausing at some pages longer than others. The couch creaked, and with a start, she saw Toad had crept onto the cushions with her.
His wariness was back, evident in his eyes.
"You can sit closer," she said quietly. She wondered if he would bolt back to his corner.
But he didn't: tentatively he made his way nearer to her, and before she could object, he slid his head into her lap. Habitually her fingers brushed through his hair. He visibly relaxed at her touch.
Arioch was speechless.
Toad broke the silence. "What are you reading?"
"I . . . ah . . .." Suddenly remembering the book in her other hand, Arioch stared at it, dull-witted. She shook her head. "I, um . . . well, I don't read . . . very well."
He cocked his head, looking at her curiously.
"Um . . . I didn't like school much, and was kicked out a lot for disrupting the classes. And after I ran away, I never went back to any school. I was . . . eleven . . . and I never really learned how to . . . read well."
She glanced at the spot in the book she held open. "But—this book has some pictures . . . and I like to look at them."
From the smudges and creases in the pages, it was obvious she liked to look at them frequently.
"You ran away? From home?"
She shook her head violently. "Foster homes. I never had a real home."
Again his expression was curious. "You were an orphan?"
Bitterly she nodded.
"Did you know your parents? Do you remember them?"
"Not much."
"Your parents gave you up. And you look human," Toad said, more to himself than her. "You don't look different."
Arioch shrugged, and continued to run her fingers through his hair. "Maybe they could tell I was different on the inside." She paused, then changed the subject. "So that's why I can't read much. I have lots of books, I like to have them. But I can't read most of them."
"I couldn't read either," he confided. "Not when Magnus found me. He took me in, and made me learn. He said it was important, but never explained why."
She smiled sadly at him. "I know why."
The book was cumbersome to hold with one hand, so she let it drop to the floor. Then she didn't know what to do with her empty hand. Finally it came to rest on Toad's chest, because that was most comfortable. She hoped he wouldn't be able to feel the cold sweat on her palm.
He read her mind. "This is awkward for you."
"No, no," Arioch protested immediately. She licked her lips, a gesture he watched with interest. "But you know, I could use a drink."
Toad raised his eyebrows, and gave her a sly smile. With her fingers still entwined in his hair, he turned his head. His tongue shot out, wrapped itself around the bottle by the door, and returned to the couch.
In spite of herself, Arioch laughed. "That's handy," she chuckled, taking the bottle from him. The grip was a bit sticky, but she popped the cork with her thumb and took a long swig.
He grinned.
"You want some?" she offered.
He shrugged. "Okay." He made no move to sit up.
"You just want me to pour it in your mouth?" Arioch asked jokingly.
"Yeah!"
Stifling another laugh, she shook her head. "Okay—just don't get upset if it just splashes all over the damn place."
"With your reflexes? I'd expect not a drop out of place."
"Hmm. We'll see . . .."
Toad opened his mouth obligingly, and she poured. It all went well until she burst into laughter again and accidentally spilled the liquid over his face and into her lap. He snorted the liquid from his nose, which made her roar harder and spill more. She finally managed to set the bottle upright.
"Look at this mess!" she exclaimed, not seeming to mind at all. "Quinn, you're a numskull! I'm so sorry you're covered in this stuff. But it's your fault, you know. You're the one who insisted I just dump it down your throat!
"Here, hold this," she demanded, depositing the now-mostly-empty bottle on his chest. He took hold of it.
She wiped his face dry of the alcohol, flinging droplets off her fingers to the carpet.
"Quinn," Toad muttered, grinning widely for a second. Then his smile faded, and he told her seriously, "You know, you shouldn't say that sort of thing so much."
"What?" she asked, still distracted.
"You know. Always putting yourself down. You do that quite a bit. I've heard you."
Arioch gave a half shrug. "Oh, that. I'm just used to being by myself, so I talk out loud all the time. I don't always mean it when I say stuff like that. Some times I do, but not too much."
He nodded, half-convinced.
She took the bottle from his hand and shook it. Only a swallow or two of liquid splashed against the sides. Tipping her head back, she drained it. The bottle followed the book to her floor.
She sighed and smiled at him. Resuming running her fingers through his hair, she asked,
"How's your head?"
"Better."
"Good! Now—if you're up for making it ache in a different way—" he gave her a confused expression, she winked, "—grab another bottle of rot gut."
Toad smiled, shook his head slightly, and his tongue complied.
Drinking semi-steadily they passed the bottle back and forth. The binge was interrupted with unexplained bouts of laughter. His mind made fuzzy with the alcohol, Toad was suddenly restless.
He sat up abruptly, knocking her hand and spilling the bottle again.
"Hey! Careful now—this is precious, precious stuff!"
Toad turned back to her quickly, and Arioch found herself face to face with him. Flustered, she licked her lips. He glanced at her mouth to watch the nervous gesture again, then returned his strangely watery gaze to hers. She couldn't look away.
Pause.
Toad blinked. He backed away.
In his restlessness he paced the room.
Arioch followed him with her eyes. "This room isn't that big, Toad!" she giggled. "You're making me dizzy!"
He stopped suddenly in front of her shelves. "You have a lot of CDs," he informed her, running a fingernail along the spines of the cases.
"Uh-huh," she replied through a mouthful of liquid.
"Why don't you play them?"
"'Cause the music I like isn't easy on the ears, and I like to play it loud. Haven't you ever heard it?"
Vaguely, he could recall pulsing rhythms and muffled lyrics coming from behind her closed door occasionally as he made his way through the hallway. Mystique had complained about it, but Mystique didn't like Arioch. His muddled mind wondered if he should tell her that.
Ignoring the fact he didn't answer her, Arioch continued. "Anyway, I didn't know how much earsplitting noise you could handle, with your injury and all. So I haven't played it."
"I'm better now."
She cocked an amused eyebrow. "You know, I might make you dance with me."
Toad flashed her a grin.
"All right, you've been warned! Pick something out."
A majority of the bands he'd never heard of, so at random his fingers settled on one and he pulled it out. He carefully slipped it into her stereo.
"Good choice," Arioch told him from across the room. She dug through the cushions on the couch and eventually discovered a remote control. She punched a few buttons, and immediately 'No Brakes' by the Offspring screamed from the speakers.
Toad jumped back, and Arioch laughed. "I told you!" she shouted over the noise.
As the music blasted, he continued his trip around the room. A hand on the wall steadied him. Making another pass, his sensitive fingers encountered little nicks and pock marks in the drywall. Standing closer and examining them, they looked like slices had been taken from its surface.
Turning back to Arioch, he noticed he was directly across the room from her spot on the couch.
"What're these?" he shouted to her.
"Come here and I'll show you!"
He rejoined her on the couch. She handed him the bottle again, and again he took a swig from it. From no where, she unexpectedly had a knife in her hand.
"You keep them in the couch?!" he exclaimed.
She shrugged. "Don't you?"
Taking the tip of the weapon, she flexed her wrist, drew her arm back, and pitched the knife. The blade tumbled through the air, flashing intermittently, and buried itself in the wall.
"See?" she smiled. "Target practice!"
~~~~~
Later:
They made their way through that bottle of whiskey and started another. Kid Rock replaced the Offspring and screeched obscenities from the woofers.
~~~~~
Later:
"Hey," he remembered suddenly, "what did you mean when you said you were a demon?"
Blank stare. The alcohol affected her more than she thought.
"You know. I thought you were Death, and you said—"
"No, I'm just a minor demon," she interrupted. "Yeah. I'm an assassin. A hit man. Arioch is one of the demons of vengeance. Get it?"
"Yeah . . . that's pretty clever. Pretty clever."
~~~~~
Later:
"Now I feel like dancing."
"I thought that was an idle threat!"
"Not on your life, buster."
Arioch changed the CD to the Tank Girl soundtrack, flipping through the tracks till she got to Aurora by Veruca Salt. The soft slow ballad made a stark comparison to the earlier music, even if it was as loud as the others.
She returned to the couch and took Toad's hand, pulling him into a standing position.
Pressed against her, with his arms clumsily around her, Toad was somehow able to force, "I don't dance, Arioch," out of his dry mouth.
She shrugged. "I'm too drunk to notice," she replied, and settled her head into his shoulder, forehead against his neck. She gave a small sigh, and hummed along with the melody.
They rocked slowly to the ballad: Toad tense—he had trouble catching his breath after her hands slipped under his shirt to rest in the small of his back—and Arioch oblivious. He had just managed to relax when the song ended. Arioch (still unaware or possibly ignoring his nervousness) looked up, smiled quickly at him, and gave him a squeeze.
"Thanks," she whispered, then skipped away to the stereo. She replaced the CD with Kid Rock again. She explained over her shoulder, "I don't want to listen to the rest of this one right now."
He remained standing, awkwardly. Arioch returned to his side.
She leaned in close to his ear to tell him confidentially, "Your mouth is open."
It snapped shut with an audible sound, and he finally sank back onto the couch.
~~~~~
Later:
Arioch turned to Toad, who was staring at the wall.
"I'm hungry!" she stated. "You wanna go out for Chinese?"
He slowly returned his amphibious gaze to her. He opened his hands and gave a slight jerk with his head as if to say, 'look at me!'
She understood his gesture immediately. "Oh, knock it off! They don't care what you look like in China—they're really desperate for money."
"China?" he repeated.
"Where else would we get Chinese food?" she remarked in surprise, as if he were slow.
"Go to China?" He felt slow.
Arioch waved her hand in his direction. "Oh, you're probably right. I'd have to call Russ, and he'd have to get the jet fueled up and everything. It'd take hours. Well, we'll keep it in mind. Tomorrow, maybe?"
Completely bewildered, Toad nodded.
~~~~~
Later:
Toad insisted she teach him how to throw knives like she did. By this time her aim had deteriorated. She managed to stick it in the wall a few more times, but usually the flat of the blade would strike heavily and it would fall with a thump to the floor.
He didn't have much better luck. It didn't help that he graciously offered to retrieve the knife (with his tongue, of course). The thin saliva left on the handle was slightly tacky; it tended to throw their pitch off.
~~~~~
Later:
The knife throwing finally abandoned, they sat leaning into one another on the couch. They were silent for a moment. Kid Rock, on continuous, belted out 'American Badass' again. Toad hiccuped.
Arioch inspected Toad carefully. "You don't look good," she concluded. "You look a little green."
He turned to her slowly. They both burst into laughter.
It ended when he retched.
"Oh my god!" Arioch shrieked. "Not on my pants! Do you know how much it costs to get puke out of leather?!"
She unceremoniously shoved him over, and he proceeded to vomit on the rug.
Whiskey, a little tea, and green slime. Arioch draped a sympathetic arm over Toad's shoulders as he sat with his head between his knees, a string of spit hanging from his lip to the floor.
"How many tickets is that ride?" she questioned playfully, before the smell hit her.
The next second she pushed away from the couch and scrambled for the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet.
"Holy Mary Mother of God," she muttered as she finished heaving. She had no control as her body fell sideways to the linoleum. She stared at the plumbing under the sink. "I haven't puked in forever."
Her arms clasped over her stomach, she continued to lay immobile until Toad crawled in beside her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern cut into his voice.
"I think I'm okay as you are."
He nodded, and collapsed in front of her. Now, instead of plumbing, she stared at his chin.
"I can't take any more," confessed Arioch, in a whisper. "Me, who used to do this sort of thing all night! Toad, you're quite a man—you wore me out."
He tilted his head to look her more squarely in the face. She wasn't looking at his eyes.
"Let me see your tongue again."
Agreeably, he opened his mouth. His tongue slid out a leisurely four inches.
"Oh baby," Arioch murmured, and despite the awkward position, kissed him soundly on the mouth.
It dumbfounded him, having her tongue in his mouth. She explored its interior carefully while he stayed frozen. In only a few seconds, it was over. He was torn between feeling stunned and feeling aroused.
Arioch paused lip to lip with him, for a moment, breathing into his mouth. Then she pulled away.
She caught his eyes. "Hey," she began.
Here it comes, he thought blackly. The shove off. I can't believe she gave me a smack! And now it's, 'sorry Morty, made a huge mistake, get-the-fuck-out-you-freak.'
"Listen—" she continued.
He closed his eyes, to seal the kiss in his memory, and to block out the fancied look of disgust on her face.
"—I'm really sorry—"
Bitch.
"—but I can't—"
Cocktease.
"—do much more than that right now—"
Huh?
"—I still feel pretty shitty. Can you—"
Huh?
"—take a raincheck?"
Toad's eyes popped open. She regarded him sincerely.
She was serious!
He thought he was able to nod his head; later, if questioned, he wouldn't be certain he actually did. They helped each other off the floor and stumbled out of the bathroom. Arioch grabbed the remote and amazingly, after the first several tries, was able to shut the stereo down.
The silence was instantaneous, but Kid Rock still rung in their ears.
She pulled him along to her bed behind the sheet, he protesting half-heartedly he hadn't slept in a bed for ages and he would probably steal the blankets and she would regret losing the space and he was comfortable in his corner—
Arioch sat down on the bed, removed her shirt, and told him he was free to do as he pleased.
Toad clambered into the bed.
~~~~~
The next morning, too too early, the room was shaken by booming strikes against the door.
"Arioch! Toad! Get your fuckin' asses out here now! Magneto wants ta talk to you!" roared Sabretooth.
The pounding continued.
Groaning, Toad attempted to sit up; he found himself too tangled in the blankets to complete the motion. But the swaddling kept him pressed against Arioch, which was preferable to getting out of bed anyway. Arioch covered her head with the pillow.
"Toad, if what's going on in my head right now is anywhere close to the agony you went through, I'm terribly, terribly sorry," he barely heard her mumble through the cushion.
He groaned in reply.
The pounding continued.
"Git up! He ain't gonna be happy you're keepin' him waitin'!"
Arioch sat up suddenly. "I am going to go blow his jaw off," she said in a strangely flat voice. She stood up shakily and unsteadily reached for a gun. She tottered toward the door.
"Arioch—wait!" Toad cried. To his dismay, his own voice rocked his head. "Your clothes!"
It made her pause for a second. She glanced at herself, slowly registering she was wearing only a t-shirt and shorts.
The pounding continued.
She started for the door again. Once there, she screamed, "KNOCK OFF THAT FUCKING NOISE—WE'RE COMING!" It made her clutch her own head, but she stifled her own cry of distress.
The pounding stopped.
"Goddamn asshole," she whispered. Out loud she said, "Give us a few minutes! We'll be there!"
"Hurry it up!" he shouted back.
Arioch flipped off the door and turned back to Toad. "Come on, Magnus wants to see us."
"So I've heard," he replied dryly. "You got any coffee?"
She snorted. "Never touch the stuff. Your choices are hot tea or hair of the dog that bit you."
"Wonderful selection."
She shot him a look and managed to find a different pair of pants to wear that were not the same as the previous evening. Toad wanted to watch her dress, since she didn't seem shy about it, but scrambled to locate his own shirt after she hissed an order to find it quickly.
She disappeared into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and smooth down her hair. Tying it back in a low ponytail with a strip of rawhide, she returned to the living room to find Toad waiting.
"You decide what you want?" she asked. "Anything?"
He almost shook his head and realized the motion hurt too much. Arioch grabbed the tipped bottle of whiskey she had left on the floor. Most of the alcohol had leaked out, but a few swallows remained.
Examining the liquid critically, she wondered aloud, "Jim Beam, why do you have to be so tasty?" and took a slug.
It brought color back to her cheeks. She sighed contentedly. Wordlessly she handed the bottle to him. With trepidation he followed her lead, and drank a mouthful. The effect was immediate: he felt human again.
"You look like Death warmed over," Arioch told him.
He smirked, and his reply surprised him. "You still find me sexy?"
She stepped closer and tilted her head to his, near enough to brush his lips if she desired. "Yeah," she whispered. "Now let's go see the old man so we can get back here."
A different sort of torment arced through him; not brought on by the alcohol. Toad wanted—did he dare?—to kiss her, take her, right then. But Arioch moved away, toward the door. He followed obediently.
He watched her slide an automatic pistol into the back of her pants. Just as she reached the door, she paused.
"One more thing," she muttered to herself, and began digging through a box set behind the door. She pulled out an unusual weapon—a dark colored knife. There was no discerning between blade and handle. She didn't explain it to him, simply slipped the weapon into a narrow pocket set on her thigh. "Okay," she said brightly, "let's go!"
And she flung open the door.
Sabretooth stood impatiently in front of them. "You two look like shit," he said immediately, wrinkling his nose. "Magneto ain't gonna like that."
"And you're ready for a black tie dinner," Arioch grumbled under her breath. "Let's go, bitch."
"What?!" he bellowed.
Both she and Toad cringed at the sound.
"I told you to knock off that fucking yelling!" Arioch shouted back.
Her face set darkly, she pulled the strange knife. Before Toad could prevent what transpired, Arioch grabbed Sabretooth by his hair, spun him into an uncomfortable position bent backwards, shifted and tightened her grip on his forehead, and pressed the blade into his throat.
"Arioch!" Toad exclaimed.
"What the fuck—you whore—" he cried.
She ignored it. "You want me to make it so you don't make any noise, ever, you blue cunt?!"
With the sharpened edge drawing a line of blood on her throat, Sabretooth's form melted into Mystique's. She gasped for breath.
"Are you going to screech again?" Arioch demanded. "ARE YOU?!"
"No," she gulped.
Arioch released her with a slight shove. Her knife disappeared. Mystique stumbled before catching herself. The look she gave Arioch was poison.
"Are we allowed to go to Magneto's room ourselves, or do we need an escort?"
The yellow gaze was still death, but Mystique stomped down the hall without a word. Arioch and Toad had no choice but to follow her.
"How—how did you know . . .?" Toad whispered, so Mystique couldn't hear.
"She was a couple of inches too short."
"You could tell by a couple of inches?"
"It's my job to size people up," Arioch replied shortly. "Everyone's a potential target."
That statement made him uneasy. He wondered, as best as his aching head would allow, about her abrupt change in demeanor. They continued through the hallways in silence.
~~~~~
Reaching Magneto's private chambers, Mystique stopped and finally turned to face the other two mutants.
"You," she spit, pointing a finger harshly in Arioch's direction. "Erik requested to see you first."
Arioch gave herself a shake.
"Worried, slut?" Mystique asked, smiling cruelly.
Arioch met her gaze evenly. "No." She glanced to Toad, who looked sick again. She went to him, and took his shoulders. She dropped her voice—Mystique strained to eavesdrop. "You okay, Toad?" she asked.
He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.
She stepped even closer. "Is it because of last night, or because of this?"
He struggled to answer. "This," he managed to mouth painfully.
Arioch slid a hand to his cheek and forced his head up. His eyes were brimming with fear and distress. "Everything will be fine," she assured.
Toad only dropped his head again.
Arioch watched him a second more, but when it was obvious he was done, she stepped away from him. She turned to face the steel door of Magneto's quarters. Ignoring Mystique's look, she pushed the door opened.
Out of the corner of his eye, Toad saw her walk through the door, and saw it swing shut solidly behind her. He muzzled a moan of despair and sunk to a crouch near the wall.
~~~~~
Magneto sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, staring intently at Arioch as she came in. Everything in the room was metal, including the walls and floor, and the reflections from the overhead lights hurt her eyes.
"Quinn, my dear, you look dreadful," Magneto proclaimed. "Please, have a seat."
With a wave of his hand, a solid steel chair screeched across the solid steel floor to her. The noise cut through her head tortuously. In spite of her resolve, she pressed her palms to her temples as she dropped into the chair he offered.
It was several moments before she could remove her hands.
"It appears you had quite a time last night," he continued. "The sounds from your room were incredible. I believe Mystique attempted to quiet you by knocking on your door, but you never heard her. Did you?"
Arioch felt as though she'd been caught by a parent. "I never knew there was a curfew or noise ordinance."
Magneto smiled coolly, and changed the subject. "May I assume, with the racket from last night, and the obvious fact that you are completely hung over, that Toad is feeling better? Ready to return to his place in the Brotherhood?"
"What would you know about his injury?" she replied, more sharply than she intended.
He sat back.
She didn't back down. "Brotherhood, my ass! He was knocked out cold, and everyone was hell-bent-for-leather to bail out of there with no regard to the fact that he couldn't bolt. What kind of Brotherhood is that?"
A dangerous look had come to Magneto's eyes. "So you saved him? Is that the point you are trying to make, Arioch?"
She saw his glare and bit her tongue.
"So you save him," he repeated thoughtfully, "only to drag him down into your own private perdition. Crawl into a liquor bottle and block out the world."
His accusation struck her like a physical blow.
"I would never let him sink that low," she snarled. "My drinking is a punishment. It's too harsh."
Magneto raised his eyebrows. "You care for him." It wasn't a question; it had the bite of disapproval.
Angered, on the brink of forsaking rational thought, Arioch pushed herself out of her chair, propelling herself to his desk. As she slammed against it, a hand automatically extracted her gun from its place at the small of her back. She had almost brought it around to lock on her target, when she noticed Magneto's expression.
He was completely at ease, an amused smile curling his lips.
Arioch caught herself. With a short, unconvincing laugh, she voluntarily loosened her grip on the gun. It spun upside down on her forefinger before clattering to the surface of the metal desk.
"Whether or not I care for Toad," she said civilly, leaning on the desk as if nothing had just occurred, "is none of your business, Erik."
No response, only a calculated look.
"Has my service been satisfactory?"
"Absolutely," he replied honestly. "You have performed your duties excellently. I have no complaints, Arioch."
She nodded. "Thank you. I'm glad. Are you dismissing me?"
A startled expression crossed his face. Arioch didn't let her feeling of victory show.
"No," Magneto said. "I believe our monetary contract has been completed, but I'm not dismissing you. I had hoped you would consider staying and joining our cause.
"You and I are a bit different than the others," he continued. "Mutants, but not physically affected. We could have hidden our abilities and no one would have known. Yet we're both separate from society by choice, and have now made ourselves pariahs. Society would have no place for us even if we wished to rejoin."
Arioch nodded again, thoughtfully. He let her process his words.
Finally she spoke. "If you'd like me to stay, you'd have a better chance if you didn't forbid Toad to have a . . . friend."
He understood what she meant.
"My performances will continue to be above your expectations, Erik."
She received another of his thin smiles. "Very good, Quinn. Although I have to confess it is not your performances I would worry about." He sighed. "Dare I say we have an amended contract?"
The smile was returned quickly. "Yeah. Now do you mind if I go find some aspirin?"
"Please!" Arioch took the gun from his desk and tucked it back into her waistband, turning as she did so. "Oh, Arioch?" She turned back. "Keep the music down."
She managed another wry grin, and he bid her leave through a side door.
~~~~~
Once the heavy steel doors shut behind Arioch, Mystique spun on her heel to face Toad. He huddled against the wall, balancing on his toes. His forehead rested on his crossed arms, and he stared despondently at the floor.
She stepped in front of him. "Toad—"
"Bugger off." His muffled reply startled her.
"Toad, I—"
"Leave me the hell alone."
Mystique pursed her lips. Toad had never acted this way toward her before. Her expression hardened. "Did you fuck her?" she asked maliciously.
That got his attention. He looked up at the statuesque woman standing before him and narrowed his eyes.
"You look like shit, Toad. You smell like puke. You're completely, totally wasted. You look like you're about to keel over and die. And you're going to continue to look like that the longer you hang around that bitch Arioch. I told you to stay away from her—"
"Exactly what part of bugger off and leave me the hell alone didn't you understand?" he interrupted.
"I'm only looking out for you—"
"The same way you looked out for me when I was out cold?!" Toad exploded. His head screamed in protest, but he ignored it. "Arioch told me, Mystique. She told me how everyone else just split, and how you were all going to leave me there! Arioch was the only one to do anything to help me. She was the only one to make sure I was okay! The only one!"
"She's using you, Toad!" Mystique hissed back. "Using you. That's the only reason she could have to care anything about a repulsive little thing like you."
Mystique had never dared call him anything like that before. She knew the pain of being a physical mutant, and knew her words would cut deep.
They did.
A dark, tortured cast crossed his red-rimmed eyes. He sunk to a lower crouch, and watched her carefully.
Expecting a sharp reply and getting none, Mystique was mute for a moment. She regained her composure quickly. "I'm only looking out for you, Mortimer," she told him softly. "I'm the only one who truly knows what it's like."
He didn't need to ask what 'it' was. He continued to study her.
"Arioch can't comprehend what it's like to be one of us. Even though she's a hired gun, she's had a normal life. A life where she doesn't have to hide herself. She's not like us. I'm the only one who understands what you've gone through."
An unblinking stare, like a wary animal sizing up another.
It finally disconcerted Mystique. "Why won't you answer me?" she demanded. "Why do you keep looking at me like you've never seen me before?"
"I'm not sure if I have," Toad replied clearly.
Mystique's expression hardened again and remained that way. "She's using you, Toad. She's utilizing a woman's best weapon—sex—to put you off your guard. Quit thinking with your dick and realize what's happening!"
A low sound, a warning growl, met her ears. It was so unlike him that she involuntarily stepped back.
"Magneto knows this too, Toad," she continued. "He will send her away. She'll drop you and slip back into the real world and you'll have to stay here. You've no place else to go. You'll have to stay with the rest of the monsters."
With that, Mystique sneered and walked away without another glance.
Toad watched her go, until she turned a corner. His headache was worse than before, and her words added another facet to his nausea. Another moan, similar to the last, forced itself from between his lips. He wished Death would visit him, right now.
A few seconds later, the doors to Magneto's chamber opened on their own. He waited hopefully, but Arioch did not come through them. Mystique was right. Magneto sent her away.
Toad wearily straightened himself, and slunk into Magneto's presence.
~~~~~
Toad would have preferred to use the walls and ceiling instead of the floor, but his head was still spinning too much to allow that. He made his way through the dim hallways quickly, and stopped in front of Arioch's doorway.
He had never paused at her door before. With a large amount of uncertainty, he rapped it tentatively.
Nothing.
Tapping it again lightly, thinking this was useless and he should go back to the ledge where he belonged, Toad strained to hear anything from the other side of the door.
Yes! A faint shambling, less faint cursing—and the door was pulled open.
Arioch stood in front of him, looking worse—if it was possible—than she had earlier in the morning. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was messed as if she'd been sleeping. She had shed the leather again, and was back into more comfortable apparel. The single nipple ring he discovered last night was evident through her thin shirt; his eyes drifted to it against his will. She looked pissed off.
Leaning against the door for support, her left hand remained out of sight behind her back. Toad knew, with a sinking feeling, what that meant.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice growly. She had been asleep.
The question startled him. He managed to whisper, "Toad," a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Prove it."
He was at a loss for words. He hadn't been sure what to expect when he came back to her door, but it definitely hadn't been this! Finally he replied, "I told you I thought you were Death."
She remained unmoved. "A lot of people call me Death. Try again."
Toad fumbled for an answer uncomfortably. "Ah . . . " he shifted from foot to foot.
He inadvertently took a step nearer to her. Arioch tensed, and narrowed her eyes.
"Quinn," he said swiftly, wilting before that look, "you made me dance with you, and you—you rested your head—" his fingers brushed his own neck lightly, as if he couldn't believe it himself, "—right here."
Arioch's stance relaxed. "Toad," she replied wearily. The hand hidden behind her back dropped to her side. He had been right; it held a gun. Holding the door more widely, she instructed, "Come on in."
He hurried passed her into the room, eager to tell her the amazing things Magneto had said, but she silenced him.
"I don't want to discuss it right now," she interrupted him. "I need sleep. You look like you do too."
Arioch took his hand and guided him to her bed, dropping the gun on the couch along the way. Behind her sheet, she stripped him nearly bare, kissed him affectionately on the cheek and collapsed onto the mattress.
Toad wanted to explain he wasn't tired—not right now—and wanted to insist that what Magneto had said was important. But Arioch tugged him down to the bed and under the blanket, and suddenly, he was asleep.