Hope Returns

Chapter Thirteen

By: Lily Handle

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Author's Note: I'll start off with a language and violence warning for this chapter. If that bothers you please, don't read. If it doesn't, man, are you going to love this chapter. Please read and review.

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Hope woke sore, stiff and cold in what looked like the middle of the night. Her stomach rolled in protest when she opened her eyes, and the room spun. She closed her eyes again before pushing herself up on her arms, and leaning back against the nearest wall. She took deep breaths while listening to the howling winds and the groan of the shed. What had happened? Hope thought, her mind blank for a bit, but then it came back. Trask. She opened her eyes, the room didn't spin this time and she saw Trask. He was lying in front of the door; there was frozen blood around his mouth, his eyes, ears and nose. Hope crawled forward, ignoring the pain from moving and pressed two fingers against Trask's neck. His skin was cold under her fingers, there was no pulse there either. Dead, Hope realized, while she looked down at him. Stone, cold, dead and by the look of him for a while now. She scrambled back from the body, horrified because she had killed him. She had to be the one, her last memories of Trask were him crying out in pain while she lost control of her powers. What had she done to him? How could she have done such a thing? For a few minutes Hope could think of nothing else but the fact that she had killed someone, then she crawled to the nearest corner and tried to vomit, but with her stomach empty nothing came up. Horrified Hope looked back at the body, the blood and those wide sightless eyes.

"Oh god," She said to the storm outside and the dead man, "I'm so sorry." What now, she wondered and survival kicked in. She had to run, get out of here and fast. She pushed herself to her knees, then used the wall and pulled herself to her feet. Her legs were cramped, standing was painful, but she walked unsteadily along the wall, watching the body the whole time. She had the irrational fear that Trask would get up, that he wasn't really dead and he'd come after her. When she reached the door, Hope slid her hand through a large crack and pushed against it. She put her full weight into it, but she was all skin and bones now, and it wouldn't move against the bank of snow outside. She pulled, pulled hard, the iced hinges gave way and Hope fell backwards. The fall to the floor and the cold wind from the open door took Hope's breath away, which left her with almost no breath for a scream. She had landed right on top of Trask. In a panic she scrambled away from the body and the door. She could feel the cold blood on her hands, and gave in to the urge and sobbed once. Run, run, run, run her mind chanted, Hope got back to her feet and ran. She stepped over the body, blindly running into the snow. Her feet screamed in shock from the cold, and the wind whipped the snow around her, making it hard for her to see, but she went blindly on. There had to be a cabin somewhere, some place for Trask to stay. There was only one door to the shed, Trask had to come directly from the cabin, had to. Hope was breathing hard, the icy wind made it harder and harder with every step, but she could see it, the outline of a cabin through the snow and the wind. She stumbled towards it, towards sanctuary. There might be a phone inside, Hope thought, she could call the Institute, get help. Oh god, what if there were more people inside? More people like Trask? Hope stopped, standing in the middle of the snowstorm, wondering which way she could go. God she was so lost, and if she went to the cabin there'd be a chance she'd just end up back in the shed. But she had no other option that she could see, running towards the woods, she'd end up in a worse situation. Her only option was to continue forward, towards the cabin and maybe a phone. When she came to the front door she waited, straining her ears to hear past the wind in case someone was inside. She couldn't hear anything over the roar, decided to risk it and pulled on the door. It opened easily and Hope almost cried when a wave of heat washed over her. Forgetting her fear of someone else being inside Hope rushed in, closed the door and collapsed against it. Oh god, her toes, fingers, nose, and chin, ears and lips started to pound and the pounding became pain. She looked at her hands, the tips of her fingers were yellowish, but mostly white, almost completely frostbit. She had to tend to them, or else risk losing them. Hope looked around her, it was a very small cabin, a bed was right against the far wall, the kitchen was behind a table, but Hope was looking for a bathroom. Her best chance of finding a first aid kit was there. She pushed herself up by the door again, started at a stumbling walk for the kitchen, hoping a bathroom was somewhere between her and it. There was one, small and cramped, but when Hope pulled open the single cabinet there was a first aid kit. She pulled it out, her fingers stinging along with everything else while she pulled out cotton swabs and cotton bandages. She turned on the sink, using lukewarm water; she ran her fingers under the stream while waiting for the sink to fill. Once it was filled, Hope plunged her fingers in, it hurt like hell, but the treatment called for. She couldn't use water that was too hot, she could do permanent damage that way, and too cold and she'd do nothing but make it worse. Once her fingers were red again, and warm, she ran a few cotton balls under the water and held them to other places that she suspected she had frostbite at. Her fingers were bleeding; the blisters from the frostbite had cracked when she had used her fingers. Normally you didn't want to break any of the blisters, it increased the chances of infection, but Hope decided to take it as a good sign. There was blood flow to the area, when she got herself to a hospital, and if she didn't get an infection, she'd be able to keep her fingers. Hope glanced down at her feet, her toes were bleeding too from the walk over and standing. She wrapped her feet first in cotton balls and then bandages. On her hands she used the few gauze pads the first aid kit had draping them all around her hands before wrapping them. The worst part of the whole thing was the hydrogen peroxide she had to slather over the cracked skin, it burned but Hope blinked through the tears and kept applying it. When she was finished wrapping Hope was exhausted, whatever energy she had was gone, and she slid weakly to the floor. She had to look for a phone, she had to call for help, drawing on what little reserves she had Hope pulled herself to her feet and used the walls for support to make her way out of the bathroom. There wasn't a phone in the kitchen though; there wasn't one by the bed, or anywhere else in the cabin. The cabin didn't have a phone, Hope realized, clinging desperately to wall. Oh god, she was in the middle of nowhere Canada without a clue where to go and she couldn't call for help. She stumbled away from the wall, aiming for the bed, she'd sleep to get some energy back then she'd be able to think. She stopped by the small table, the keys to the truck were shining up at her. Maybe she should take them, run to the truck and just drive until she found a town.

"No, no," Hope told herself, shaking her head drunkenly, "I'd drive into a tree and kill myself." She took the keys though, holding them tight in her bandaged hand as she stumbled to the bed. Can't sleep on top though, Hope thought, sliding to her knees and the floor. She'd sleep underneath it, just in case Trask came back. "He's dead, Hope, dead," She told herself as she crawled under the bed. She curled up, the keys clutched to her chest, and fell into a terrified sleep.

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When Hope woke, the storm was still going full steam ahead outside, but she wasn't listening for the wind, she was listening to footsteps. Paranoid and terrified, Hope stayed as still as a mouse that was staring down a cat, waiting to hear Trask's footsteps, or his laughing way of saying her name. She kept her eyes squeezed tight, begging for no one to be inside, but herself. She lay there, under the bed for maybe fifteen minutes before she dared to slide out from underneath it. The cabin was still empty, and Hope laughed a little in relief. She quickly had to clamp her mouth shut though, the laughter was turning into hysterical sobbing. Keep it together girl, Hope told herself, you can't lose it just yet. Hope winced, her empty stomach cramping tightly, distracting her from her fear. She should eat something, maybe pack something to take with her when she ran, Hope thought, getting to her feet. Hope didn't bother with the fridge or any of the cabinets, the first thing she saw was a bowl of apples and she went straight for them. She took a huge bite from one, chewed it twice and swallowed. It hit her stomach and Hope groaned against a wave of nausea. She had to eat slowly, and only small portions. Her stomach had been empty for so long, a lot of food eaten very quickly would make her sick. Hope forced herself to control the gnawing hunger, taking only small bites from the apple and waiting at least two minutes before taking another bite. To her eating the apple seemed to take forever, but her patience paid off, by the second apple she could eat at a normal rate again. While she ate, Hope started planning. She'd head south, towards the States and when she came to a town she'd call for help. No, Hope thought, she'd get straight into police protection and the first police car or Mounty she saw, Hope was going to get help. She'd have to deal with talking about what happened to her, but she'd get out of the damn cabin if it killed her. At the sound of tires crunching through snow Hope froze like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. Someone was here. Someone most likely a friend of Trask, or maybe Trask himself. No, no, Hope told herself, you have the keys, Trask is dead in the shed, it's not him. Still it could be a friend of Trask's, Hope reasoned, she needed to protect herself. She looked around the kitchen, her eyes searching for any sort of weapon and when they landed on a block of knives, she went for them. She grabbed the biggest handle, pulling out a six-inch knife, then she curled into the smallest ball she could make and waited.

She found herself rocking while she listened to footsteps and then a voice, "Trask! Trask! Where the hell are you?" Hope could barely breathe she was so afraid, the yelling voice was one she recognized, but in her panic state she couldn't figure out where from.

"Damn it Trask!" The back door to the cabin opened, and Hope tensed. She stopped rocking, stopped breathing and froze, watching the door to see who entered.

"Agent Akelm!" Hope threw the knife away and jumped to her feet when she saw who it was.

"Dr. Chandler?" Akelm looked confused, but Hope rushed him and hugged him tight.

"Oh god, I thought no one would ever find me," She sobbed, but Akelm pushed her away.

"Where's Trask?" He asked, and Hope blinked up at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Where's Trask?" Akelm asked again, shaking Hope a bit as if to focus her.

"In the shed," Hope pointed towards the other door, "Through there. He's dead."

"Oh shit," Akelm ran a hand through his hair, "Look, stay here. I'm going to go check on Trask, then get you out of here."

"All right, all right," Hope muttered, letting Akelm push her into a chair, then watched him while he went out the door. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a huge sense of relief at being found, alive. Akelm had found her, she was going to go home, she was going to be safe. Oh, god, Hope felt like breaking down, but jumped instead because the door of the cabin slammed open again. Akelm looked mad, raging mad, and strode over to her with fire in his eyes. Hope felt herself backing away, but Akelm grabbed her by the front of her shirt and lifted her into the air.

"What did you do to him?" Akelm yelled, shaking her hard, "What the hell did you do to him?" Hope wrapped her hands around Akelm's wrist trying to steady herself, but he just kept shaking her.

"Stop it!" Hope yelled, trying to break free, wondering what had gotten into Akelm. "Please!"

"You killed him you stupid bitch," Akelm growled, "You're going to pay for that."

"What?" Hope asked, but Akelm tossed her down to the floor, right into the legs of the table.

"Shut up." Akelm ordered, then walked away. While Hope struggled to get back on her feet, she watched Akelm walked over to a closet and pull out a shotgun. She watched in confused horror as he loaded two shells into the gun, then dump a bunch into his jacket pockets.

"Let's go," He ordered, pointing the gun at her. Hope realized something was wrong, she didn't know what, but she had to fight back. She flung her hands out, calling on her powers, but nothing flew towards Akelm, "Stupid. You're powers can't go through cloth." Akelm crossed the floor to Hope, ramming the butt of the shotgun into her stomach, "Stupid bitch mutant." Hope gasped, grabbing her stomach and blinking away tears. Akelm shoved the butt of the shotgun into her stomach again, "Move." He pushed her towards the door, and Hope stumbled towards it, unable to rationalize what was going on. What was Akelm doing? Could be really be that mad that she'd killed Trask? Why would he be mad that she killed him anyway? Hope stumbled into the storm, shivering as soon as the wind hit her. When she stopped, trying to back up to the shelter of the cabin, Akelm struck her across the back of her head and pushed her forward.

"Keep going," Akelm ordered, "To the black truck." Hope stumbled into the snow, giving in to more crushing fear. She was going to die, there was no way out of it this time. She could try and unwrap her hands, but the bandages were tight and Akelm would notice if she tried anything. If she ran, or turned to fight back, he'd shoot her in a heartbeat. She wasn't rescued, she was damned.

"Put the gun down, bub." Akelm shoved Hope into the side of the black truck when he turned to look, but Hope knew that voice.

"Logan!" She cried in relief, turning to look, but there was no one there. Had she just imagined his voice? Hope wondered, looking around, but from the worried look on Akelm's face, he had heard it too. Where was Logan then? Hope wondered, and then she saw the outline. Through the storm she could make out his shoulders, and the glint of his claws.

"Stay where you are," Akelm turned the shotgun on Logan, but Logan just kept coming. "Fine." Akelm turned the gun towards Hope, using the butt he caught her under the chin. Hope fell backwards from the blow, landing hard in the snow, then found herself staring down the two barrels of the shotgun. "You take another step and I'll shoot her." Logan instantly stopped and when Hope tried to scramble back, the barrel just got closer to her nose.

"You're going to let me get into the truck, you hear?" Akelm sneered. Hope looked towards Logan, who wasn't watching her, but Akelm. If he kept Akelm distracted Hope had a chance, she could roll underneath the truck, out of harm's way. Logan glanced once at her, quickly, and nodded, Hope almost didn't notice it was so slight, but she understood. He was going to keep Akelm distracted, giving her a chance to get away. He could get shot, Hope reminded herself, with how quickly he healed, he'd be okay.

"What do you want with her, Stryker?" Logan asked. Stryker? Who was Stryker? Hope wondered, looking up at Akelm.

"So you figured it out, huh? Well, a little late for that anyway," Akelm, no Hope though, Logan had called him Stryker, said, "I'm just going to go for a little ride with Dr. Chandler here."

"You know you're not got make it out of here alive," Logan challenged, "I'm gonna come after you."

"No you're not." But the barrel of the shotgun was pulling back from Hope's face, a few more inches and she'd be able to roll under the truck. "You're not going to risk her life."

"The Doc's pretty resilient, Stryker, you'd be surprised what she could take," Logan smiled, "I wonder how resilient you are?"

"I could turn this gun on you and test your resilience," Stryker boasted, and Hope actually prayed he would. Hope wanted the shotgun out of her face, it was almost as terrifying as Stryker himself.

"Bub, you want to test me, go ahead," Logan laughed, "I can take it." That was it, the barrel was far enough away and Hope rolled. The gun went off, burning into the snow where Hope used to have been. Now she was under the pickup, on her side. She could see Stryker's feet, and Logan's. Logan charged Stryker, Hope covered her ears when another shot went off and she could see blood falling into the snow.

"Damn it, it's you!" Stryker yelled, but Hope watched Logan's feet as they kept charging. The truck rocked onto two wheels when Logan connected with Stryker, and then the sounds of a fistfight began. Hope managed to roll onto her back under the truck, and while listening to the fight she started to pull at the bandages of one hand. If she got one hand uncovered, she could use her power and knock Stryker out. The bandages were tight around her hand though, and Hope cursed herself for wrapping them that way. What had she been thinking, her powers were her only way to defend herself, she shouldn't have wrapped her hands. But, Hope thought, you didn't know that your power couldn't go through cloth, how had Stryker known? She covered her head when she heard a thud from above, the weight pushed the bottom of the truck closer to her face. Hope tried to curl up when another thud came from above, but there was no room her it. She froze instantly as the sound of tearing metal, and Logan's claws came ripping through the truck inches away from Hope's head. Before she could think twice Hope raked the back of one hand across the claws, cutting the bandages and her hand. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, the claws had gone deeper than she'd thought they would, and god it hurt.

The claws vanished seconds later, "Forget she was down there?" Hope heard Stryker mock while she pulled at the few stubborn bandages. She heard a feral roar, and the truck bounced back to its normal height again. Hope now had enough room to move out from under the truck again, and rolled back into the storm.

She could see Logan, holding a beaten and bleeding Stryker over his head, "What did you mean by "it's you"?"

"Logan!" Hope yelled, pulling herself to her feet with her uninjured hand, "Let him go!" She held out her arm, the scraps of a few bandages hanging from her bleeding hand. She didn't know if her power would travel through to Logan when she hit Stryker, but she wasn't going to take the risk.

"I've got a few questions for this guy, Doc." Logan looked past Stryker to her, and Hope could see something feral in his eyes. Logan wasn't completely there, Hope realized, something was taking him over.

"Logan, let him go, I don't want to hurt you," Hope pleaded, watching him through the fingers of her hand.

"Doc…" Hope could see he was going to try and convince her, but she couldn't take anymore.

"I want this over with! Please, let him go." Hope begged, and Logan let go of Stryker. Hope let loose her power, letting it attack Stryker while he fell. He landed in the snow crying out, and remembering what had happened to Trask, she stopped. The only noise was the storm, it over whelmed Hope and she dropped to her knees. Logan ran over to her, also dropping to his knees in the snow in front of her.

"He might be dead," Hope mumbled, looking past him, watching Stryker, "I could have killed him like I killed Trask."

"Are you all right?" Logan asked, "Hope are you all right?" Hope looked away from where Stryker lay, up at Logan. His hands were on her shoulders, holding tight, and Hope was overwhelmed again. Hope threw herself at him, pressed her face into his neck and broke down crying. His arms came around her, holding on to her while she cried. She clutched at him until the flow of tears subsided, and then she was just drained. She felt Logan shift her, then stand, carrying her. The wind was getting more intense around them, and Hope turned her face into Logan's shoulder trying to keep the snow that was whipping around from striking her face.

"Is she all right!" Hope heard a voice yell from above, and looked up at the most beautiful sight she would ever see in her life. The X-jet was hovering overhead, Ororo was standing at the side hatch, apparently holding back the snowstorm and Kitty was yelling down to them.

"She's okay for now!" Logan yelled up to the jet, "Get Jean to take her up, I can wait for you to land!" Hope watched through half closed eyes as Jean appeared at the hatch, she placed a hand to her head and began to lift her from Logan's arms. What about Stryker, Hope thought, I want to be back in Logan's arms. She felt hands, helping to guide her into the jet from the outside, and pull her to a chair.

Kitty appeared in front of her, "Can you tell us what's wrong, Doc Hope?" Hope blinked, what was wrong with her? Hope remembered, her hand, she needed fluids and medical attention.

"You have the bag of supplies?" She asked, trying to push herself into sitting upright in the chair she'd been placed in, but had to have Kitty help her. Her mind was slow, but she could spout medical information and treatments in her sleep, even if it took her awhile to get it out.

"Yeah," Kitty looked over her shoulder where Jean stood with a large orange bag over her shoulder.

"Get a vitamin rich saline bag, start an IV, I'm malnourished and dehydrated," Hope managed, watching with a sense of pride when Kitty and Jean fetched what she needed without being told where to find them, "You both remember how to put in an IV, right?"

"Yeah," Kitty took the needle from Jean, "Hold out your wrist, Dr. Chandler." Hope held out her left hand, the uninjured one, to Kitty.

"Jean, get butterfly bandages, some iodine too," Hope turned her right hand over, looking at the scratches for the first time. She'd done some serious damage, the scratches started at her wrist, where they were fairly shallow, but where the scratches ended they were deep. The longest scratch was right to the second knuckle of her middle finger, and Hope wondered if she could see the bone once the blood was out of the way. "And a tourniquet, Jean," Hope added.

"What happened to your hand?" Jean asked, Kitty shifting to make room for her.

"I used Logan's claws like a pair of scissors. In hindsight, that wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Tourniquet first, I can't loose anymore blood." While Jean worked on her hand, and Kitty checked her pulse, blood pressure and oxygen levels, the jet touched down.

"Get in contact with S.H.I.E.L.D." Logan ordered, walking into the jet, Stryker tossed over his shoulder, "Tell them we have Trask, and Stryker." Logan tossed Stryker unceremoniously onto the floor of the jet.

"Where's Trask?" Scott asked, standing in the aisle between the seats.

"Shed, near the edge of the woods, he's dead." Logan didn't even look towards Hope when he said it, but Hope could feel he wanted too. There were so many questions they were going to ask, Hope thought, and I don't want to answer them. I want to forget this ever happened and go home.

"How is she?" Logan asked, standing behind Jean and Kitty.

"Shock-y," Hope answered herself, already her limbs were feeling heavy again, and she could tell this was about as far as her drained energy was going to take her, "Because I've been starved for so long, even the small amount of blood I've lost is going to get me in trouble if I lose more. Need more fluids, some glucose now that I think about it. Jean, we have a few bottles of it in the bag, I'd start with a hundred CCs."

"Can you wait for S.H.I.E.L.D. to show up, or do you need a hospital now?" Hope looked up at Logan, he was looking at the back of her right hand, and the three long gouges. It's not your fault, Hope wanted to tell him, I did it myself.

"Hmm," Hope thought about his question instead of his guilt, "I think it would be best to get me to a hospital. I think I'm going to pass out soon, but I can't be sure."

"Scott, Kurt, and Rogue, stay with me here," Logan ordered, "We'll wait for S.H.I.E.L.D., 'Roro get the Doc to a hospital." Hope heard Ororo's answer slur, hmm, she was passing out sooner than she thought. Ah well, she was safe passing out here wouldn't be so bad.

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Hope was sitting up in a hospital bed, smiling at her family. They had all come, her mother, father, sister and bother, and she felt at home and safe. Her mother was sitting next to her, holding her left hand, while her father stood behind her mother, stroking the top of her hair. Thea was sitting with Michael on the end of the bed, each had a hand on one leg. She'd been here three days, undergoing treatment for her frostbite, dehydration and her hand. She'd accidentally cut the tendons to her pointer and middle finger. Surgeons had repaired them, but they were unsure on if she would get full movement back in those fingers. The doctor who was taking care of her had decided that she was well enough to have visitors and her family was the first visitors she had wanted to see.

"So, baby sister, how you feeling today?" Michael asked, being the first to break the comfortable silence.

"I'd like to have more than an hour for visitors," Hope answered, poking him with her foot, "I don't think I can stand an hour of your ugly mug."

"You'll come to the mansion once your released, won't you?" Her mother asked, squeezing her hand.

"I will," Hope said, squeezing her mother's hand back. Hope wouldn't tell her that she would go because she was afraid of cold and snow. Even the slightest chill made her relive the nights she had spent in the shed and she'd go into small panic attacks. The psychologist she was talking with said it was natural and that she shouldn't be ashamed, but Hope was.

"We'll talk with Mr. Xavier about getting your things to the house," Her father said, "You don't have to worry about a thing. You just get better."

"I will," Hope said again. They weren't going to ask her about it, Hope realized, no one was going to ask about what happened to her. She didn't want them to know, either, what had happened to her was a horrible experience and the only time she ever wanted to relive it was testifying in court against Stryker.

"We should let you see your students," Thea said, smoothing the blanket around Hope.

"No, don't go," Hope clung tighter to her mother's hand. "I want to be with family for awhile." Hope leaned forward so her mother could hug her, and Hope started crying again. She spent a lot of her time crying, late at night when the nightmares came, and when she talked with the psychologist, she was beginning to think she'd never run out of tears. Her whole family moved closer, until Hope was enveloped in their comfort and warmth.

"It's all over baby girl," Her father said, "All over."

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Author's Note: Well, it's not all over. There are a few loose ends to tie up in Chapter Fourteen and there's an epilogue to write. I know, Stryker doesn't seem to be exactly like Stryker, but he's not completely gone from the Hope Series, he'll be back in a later story, intriguing no? Look a whole chapter from Hope's point of view! And Trask is dead, surprising no? Anyway, please stay tuned for more. Also please read and review.

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