"Ya need me alive, huh, why?" he angrily asked her as he bared his teeth to her. Of course, it didn't work as her glare didn't waver.
"Ta have moonlight walks on the beach and talk about poetry," she rolled her eyes, "why is it so important ta ya anyways, aren't ya always used one way or another," her blunt sarcasm just fueled his rage.
"That ain't the point kid," he stared at her as he started to foam at the mouth, "I'm askin' -- no demandin' -- why do ya need me alive" he tried to not show his frustration, but she could probably tell by his heavy breathing and clenched teeth.
"I don't have ta tell ya anything 'Tooth," she glared him down, "How does it feel ta not get somethin' ya want?" she berated him without raising her tone.
He had to think of another way to get her to talk, "So why do ya owe me," the first words that came out of his mouth. She gave him a puzzled look.
"Persistant are we?" she questioned, but gave out a sight, "Cause ya didn't kill Wolvie," she was lying -- he knew it.
"Bein' a ghost affects yer memory kid, cause that was before," he pointed out his fault. He heard her mumble a curse. He felt like he was getting closer.
"Aren't ya goin' ta move -- the X-men could be right behind us," she spoke quickly to change the subject, but he wouldn't let up.
"Nah, I like this little talk we're goin' through kid," he kicked up his boots onto the dash and leaned back, "besides it's been a while since I've been behind bars -- it could be fun."
His unpredictable reply even shocked himself, but he wouldn't show it. She'd break soon; she had to weigh her options -- which one would she choose.
She gave another big sigh as she gave him the finger, "alright I'll tell ya if ya move, move, move," that's all he needed to hear as he got up and went zero to sixty in three seconds.
He waited for a couple minutes. If he found out what she owed him, then there could be a way to go back to his old life. Killing, murdering, blackmailing, and being alone: those were all the things that made him who he is. He was better off the way -- he was -- wasn't he?
"Now that those X-jerks aren't comin' after us, mind explainin' what ya owe me kid," he couldn't wait and probably it wasn't important anyways -- like how he saved her from the Phalanx or leaving her alone when he was in L.A.
"What ya want and explanation now -- couldn't it wait till mornin'," she gave out a sheepish grin. She was toying with him, pure and simple. He pushed the pedal harder, going beyond the one hundred miles per hour on a two-lane street -- a sign came up quickly, it meant cliffs ahead.
"What are you doin' 'Tooth," she asked hurriedly as he didn't care anymore as he went to one hundred and twelve miles per hour.
"Ya can control my body kid, but I'm the only one who knows how to get out of this -- tell me what ya owe me -- now," he yelled the last part at the top of his lungs. He kept it at one hundred and ten miles per hour, easier to control.
She was dead silent, her eyes darting left and right. He waited as he pushed the gas a little more. She made it a point to not look at him.
"You helped me kill myself," with those words he pushed the brakes as hard as he could. The popping of tires could be heard in front of him and behind him.
Suddenly he flew out of the car, breaking the windshield. He couldn't open his eyes but he felt a whole lot of pain. He was rolling, jagged rocks becoming imbedded into his loose skin. He kept rolling on a downward spiral.
When he finally stopped he opened his eyes. The night sky bloomed with small stars. The pain overwhelming as the stars disappeared one by one. He breathed deep, and he felt his lungs rejecting the oxygen. His heart pounded and broke at the same time. Those words she said with a tone he never heard her have before -- purity mixed in with truth. She wanted to die; the thought kept crossing his mind over and over again as the darkness consumed him.