Lucky Me

Chapter 067


My throat was raw and on fire, like I'd swallowed gasoline (which would be a blessing compared to the claws raking and digging into my brain, pulling it apart fiber by fiber) and when I started to cough, it didn't help my abused throat. The tears made my already pained eyes sting even more. My ears were screaming and hot.

But then the voice of an angel whispered.

"Kerry? What's wrong? Where are you?" Okay, so it wasn't a whisper but Scott, at that point, was an angel.

I wanted to scream with joy, he found me! They were going to come and help!

"D-d-die," I stuttered out hoarsely across the link. I heard him give the command to get a lock on my signal and hunt me down. Tears of joy were now coming from my eyes (though it was still like crying Tabasco sauce).

How long it took them, I was not sure. I think my body and mind finally had mercy on me and let me pass out from the constant heartbeat of white-hot pain in my brain. What the heck had she done to me?

When they found me, they were none too quiet about it! Bobby-Jerk slammed open the door, followed by Mr. Bishop (I only knew this because of voices in the blackness) and Jean. Heh, Mom came to-never mind.

She's notmy mother.

"Kerry! Kerry, can you hear me?" Yes, now shut-up and stop asking me dumb questions! I winced as I felt them start to pick me up. I moaned and whimpered in pain.

"Good heavens, what happened?"

Bobby-Jerk then added to Jean's comment, "What's that smell?"

I felt someone stab my temples.

"Her shields are too tight, and I can't go in without hurting her more." I guessed it was Jean's nails that felt like needles puncturing my skin.

My voice was pretty much shot, my thoughts would require more pain, which I didn't see how I could be hurt any more.

Daisy-Daisy had to be stopped. Her logic, in a twisted way, might make sense in her head, but it was still wrong!

Adrian and Chris came screaming up to us, they both took one look at me and started another run of questions. I reached out; ignoring the shooting pain grabbed the first person within reach. With my disgusting breath, I opened my eyes that felt like coals, and pulled the person close, "Shut-up." I rasped out in a deep voice.

Chris, who I had grabbed, and the others got the picture as I released him and moaned as my head lulled back in Mr. Bishop's arms.

I wasn't aware of how much time passed since D-M hit me to the time when I re-awoke in the med. lab.

"W-Where?" I croaked. They must have pumped me up on some meds.

He was there.

"The med. hold, how're you feeling?" I felt his hand on my forehead, and the other one cover one of my hands.

My mouth opened, but then I choked on something in my throat and ended up coughing instead. Whatever this guy was supposed to be, right now it was evident he was concerned as the grip on my hand tightened.

Moaning, I closed my eyes and motioned with my hands that I wanted something to write with. He complied quickly and brought me a notebook and a pen.

'Daisy is going to hurt someone. Have to stop her.' I scrawled out, and not in a straight line because I had a hard time focusing. They needed to up my dosage of whatever they were giving me.

He took it, read it, and then headed out of the room. When he came back, he had Scott, Miss Ororo and Jean in tow. Scott crossed his arms, clearly discomforted, and asked me what I meant. I would have rolled my eyes if I wasn't so sure they'd pop out of my head and run away.

I took the notebook again and wrote: 'Need to go to the convention. She's going to die.'

I wasn't being clear on purpose. I didn't want them to pump me for information then take off without me. No matter what, D-M was my responsibility.

"Who will?" Storm asked.

"She's probably delusional," Jean commented slowly. "She was pretty sick when we found her in Daisy's room about half an hour ago."

Tears of frustration took over my eyes, Scott, surprisingly, came to my rescue.

"I don't think so. What would she have been doing in Kia's room? And when she called, she said 'die' as well. Blyt knows something."

Nodding my head slowly, making it seem like I was wrapping a car (my brain) around a tree each time I did so.

"Write it down, tell us," Scott demanded coldly. "If this is some ploy-"

"Hey!" hebarked up, "Trust her, okay? Why would she go through all this if it was just a 'ploy'?"

'Can't explain, just have to go,' I scribbled down.

"In your condition?" Storm asked in an incredulous tone.

"Perhaps Blyt is correct," Professor? "I have tried to scan for Daisy's psy-signature and have turned up with nothing. Even with the assistance of Cerebro. Doubtless she has a mechanism to prevent psychic attacks, if so, then this is serious."

My eyes shot wider. Adam! That intelligent idiot! He was the one who designed the mind blockers during Hell Week! D-M even asked if he could make a better version! He was working on something like that before Chris' graduation! Oh my-how could I have been so stupid?

"Get Kurt, Bishop, and anyone else in the mansion. Track Beast's signature and try to warn him about this, whatever this is. He might be in danger."

When we were on the plane, Professor and all, we headed toward New York City. The FMR or whatever's block party, black-tie whatever was being held at a fancy television studio. The one which Trish Tilby worked at for all its worth in the irony.

As we traveled (which sent me into near hemorrhages, only Jean's steadying me with her telekinesis helped) toward the place, I envisioned D-M with Tilby, luring her around. Probably, knowing people, D-M was hyping her ego, trying to convince the older lady that she was a huge fan of the newscaster and if she could ask her some questions and stuff.

Then D-M would cause Tilby to get conveniently sick. Probably a stomach flu or something and tell Tilby that she'd be happy to take her back to her car. Maybe she'd even attack the unsuspecting lady in the bathroom. Somewhere, some way, D-M was a lot smarter than I gave her credit for. She was amazing me even though she terrified me. The way she shot back at Money (Monet? Moonet?) that day should have clued me in to my teammate not being a moron.

"But who she tryin' to hurt?" Gambit asked for the millionth time.

Trish Tilby, the newscaster lady? Yeah, not much associated with the X-Men anymore (this information came from the gossip ring of the X-the reason there was a circle around the 'x' on the badges I figured) because of her bust up with Dr. Hank. Apparently the two had an off again, on again relationship for quite some time, but then she did something stupid. He confided in her about the Legacy Virus and Trish, in turn, made it public news and won an award for journalism! Chris clarified most of this when I was curious (and conscious) enough to ask him.

He said this all through gritted teeth.

I was thinking maybe that was a way for D-M to show she still cared about Chris-by killing the lady who helped make his life a nightmare. Well, his attitude was a major part of it, but I digress.

"We're coming in on the studio," Cyclops stated, and I felt my stomach stay in the air as we landed. I was going to be sick again. "Everyone split up and find Beast, Adam, or Kia. We need this cleared up before anything occurs."

I struggled to stand, but I felt someone start to push me back into my seat.

"Don't even think about it, kid. You'd end up causing more problems if you were out there." Wolverine stated in his 'I'll-tie-you-to-the-seat-by-your-wings' voice.

"He's right, stay here, Kerry, and we'll leave the comm. links open." Jean closed her eyes for dramatics and (I thought) was scanning for D-M or Dr. Hank yet again. "I've got Hank's attention." Her brow creased, "Daisy's not with him or with Adam."

Of course she wasn't! She didn't want witnesses!

"Adam's starting to panic; he says she took the psy-blocker." There was fear in her voice suddenly. I couldn't blame them; I would have butterflies of fear in my stomach if D-M hadn't made me throw them up all over her floor.

"Fine, Flex and Iceman stay here with Blyt; make sure she doesn't try anything stupid." Okay, that was it! Whenever I could open my eyes again he was sogetting a glare! "The rest of you, let's go!"

Then a lot of banging and hurting of my head later, I was stuck in the plane with the two guys who just loved to give me problems. Too bad Chris didn't stay here or I'd have thought I was in trouble.

The guys ignored me and huddled around the communication board to hear all the 'action'. Disobeying a guy who left about five minutes ago, I climbed to my feet, and made my way to the open hatch. It was hot in here or Daisy had given me some type of fever along with the worst migraine in the history of man (or mutant, whatever).

"We can't find them! Wolverine, any luck?" Mr. Kurt's voice crackled through.

"There's too many flammin' women wearin' too much perfume! It smells like a French whore house!" Then there was a whacking sound and a shrill protest.

"What was that?" Cyclops questioned after the sound went away.

"One of the women heard what I said and beat the crap outta me with her purse."

It would have been funnier if I didn't have a headache and if I didn't get distracted as soon as I glanced out of the door again. There was a red blot following a dark blue blot (not Beast) in the parking lot. Oh man, did I call it or what?

Through my sticky throat nothing was coming out as I turned around to try and tell the two guys. They were snickering about Wolverine being beat up by a little girl. Oh sure, they'd take me seriously! Looking back down from the perch where the Blackbird was (on a ten story building sitting right next to the party building thing) I decided to just leave. I would chance the traffic and all, maybe if I got to D-M before anyone else, they wouldn't hurt her and we could say it was just a 'ploy' to see how well the X-Men did or something.

I let go of the side of the hatch and was about to jump when I felt a hand clamp around my upper arm.

"Don't think so. You're in no condition to be flying around," he said, turning me around to face him.

He gave me a steady look, but I wasn't in the mood for this. Threatening might work on a lot of people, but there was something about him that made my threats seem watered down and pointless. Instead of threatening, I went for the begging.

"Have to go!" I pleaded weakly. "She needs me, trust me." I bit my lip, "Please?"

"But," he tried, "You're sick. What if you fall?"

I gave him the best smile an insanely sick person could, "Thick skin, hard head."

He studied me intently for a few quite seconds before letting go of my arm and crossing his over his chest.

"Fine, but you better come back with allyour feathers intact."

I shook off the nauseous feeling, "Wanna try and stop me?" I questioned the other body over his shoulder. He's hands went straight up into the air in surrender.

On shaky feet I went into a dive from the building and being that blinking made me want to gouge out my eyes and my mind, it was no surprise when the sudden feeling of 'shoot-me-please' hit me hard. Trying to curl into the fetal position while flying did not make sense and it wouldn't allow me to continue flying. I would have started to fall like a little cannonball with wings that were for decoration only.

In fact, a sick and hurting person would have been wise not to curl into a ball and then slam into a car hood. It brought an abundance of pain like Santa brought gifts at Christmas! I felt like a bug who just embraced a windshield driving 100 miles per hour, except it was a hood and I slid off of it, down to the ground.

"Who's there?" Trish asked, at least I was guessing it was Trish Tilby, I wasn't really sure, it wasn't me and it didn't sound like D-M.

Walking was too much to ask of my poor battered body, so I decided to drag it to the voice by crawling on my hands and knees, wings drooped on either side of my body.

Gripping on to a side view mirror, I climbed to my feet. My face was probably bloodied and not looking the friendliest.

"T-Trish, you've got-"

"Miss Tilby!" D-M shouted, "Watch out!" Trish's head whipped around to see the girl in red come up to her. "That's a dangerous mutant! She's a known killer!"

What?

"What? Who is she? What's going on?" A true journalist, always asking questions while being fed a line of bull. D-M firmly took a hold of Tilby's arm as she continued to spew her junk lines.

"She's insane! She's killed a lot of people!" D-M-was she insane? I had never killed anyone! "That monster is in league with people like Sabretooth!"

She was a good little actress, I'd give her that. I opened my mouth to defend myself when Tilby said she was going to call the police, but D-M decided not to give me any sort of opportunity to talk.

That peachy perfect princess decked me. It was a cheap shot considering I had to hold on to the car to maintain my balance. I ended up kissing the car's hood again, and I felt my tooth crack.

Groaning, I slide down the length of the car and ended up on my side looking up at D-M for the second time that night.

"Nice try." She smirked and then turned her attention to the woman who had one hand occupied with her cell phone; the other was holding the car door open. The woman should have visited the gym more; she couldn't get away from D-M.

"Your turn," Daisy warned, kicking the car door and smashing Tilby's hand in the process.

Through her tears and cursing, the woman cradled her hand. "Are you crazy? What was that for!"

"The same thing Ah'm going to kill you for."

Tilby didn't have a prayer. Daisy reached out as Trish tried to swat her away but skin contact was made.

Idiot.

Tilby turned an unnatural color of pinkish green and then slumped to the side (much like me, see, I was a trend setter!). Small cuts and scrapes started to open up on her face and arms.

They looked like mine, the ones from earlier in the week. I was so confused and frustrated. Time wasn't my friend though, I couldn't fight D-M because I couldn't stand on my own-I was pretty sure I cracked a bone with my beautiful, hood-smashing landing.

Not looking at her I focused on trying to climb back to my wobbly feet. When I checked on D-M over my shoulder, she had dragged Tilby half way into the car.

I leaned against the hood, breathing was hard and my eyesight was shot until who knew when. Gripping the passenger side mirror for balance, and my stomach to keep it from throwing up any important organs I shook my head at D-M.

"Don't."

One hand was raised in the blurs of color I could see. Trish Tilby sat slumped over in her driver's seat; occasional groans let me know she was alive.

Daisy scoffed, "Whatever."

"Don't," I pressed.

"Why not?" D-M screamed at me. I winced. "You don't know what this witch did to me!" There was a minor break in her voice. That was a good break because it held sadness, not anger. "She needs to die before anyone else gets hurt by her!"

My eyesight cleared and I could see, through a haze, tears falling down my teammate's face.

"Why?"

She sniffled, never letting go of her victim's arm.

"It would have been perfect, Kerry!" Daisy whispered harshly, "No one would have known it was me. They didn't know it before, they wouldn't know it now."

I tried letting go of the mirror, slipped, and grasped it again. Scott always said to keep the people talking, it kept them distracted. Distraction was a good thing if one was waiting for reinforcements, which I was.

"Tell, Daisy. Please."

Surely they'd figure it out eventually, I did not doubt one of the guys in the plane told on me. He probably freaked out when I crashed.

"Ah was only thirteen," Daisy started, good, this was going to take a while. D-M was sixteen; she was fifteen when we first met. "His name was Jimmy." Her eyes turned cold. "It was my first time and Ah got pregnant. Ah never heard from the guy again."

Oh man, this was about-

"Her name, my baby's name, was Anna Marie." Her baby, the one mentioned in the medical records. "Ah didn't know Ah was a mutant back then, Ah was barely fourteen by the time Ah had her. Ticked off my Daddy and Mama but they were happy when she was born. She was a normal little girl—except her hair was bright pink." More angry tears, her voice kept breaking.

"Then she got sick, before Ah got to take her to the hospital though, this witch." She shook Tilby harshly for emphasis. "This inhuman, heartless, money lusting witch told the entire world about the Legacy Virus!" Daisy was seething. "The doctors took one look at my sweet innocent child and were afraid. They were terrified of a three month old!"

If she kept screaming someone was bound to hear her and come running.

"They didn't tell me, but they did say they'd take care of her. When Ah went home to get some things for her with my mama—by the time Ah came back—she was dead."

Her teeth were clamped together, jaw set, proof she was reclaiming her anger and not her sorrow. That was not good.

"They said she simply died of SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, but Ah looked at her and they hadn't even movedher from where Ah laid her! Ah even over heard them saying that a human mother should be grateful for having a legal excuse for getting rid of a mutant baby."

Daisy took a deep breath, her grip ever tightening on the newscaster's arm.

"Ah didn't have proof and no one would listen to me. But then, then Ah discovered Ah was a mutant when Ah got into a fight at school a few weeks after Ah buried my baby. Ah took the same migraine Ah had 'taken' from my mother earlier that week and 'gave' it to the jackass who had the nerve to call me a slut."

"Ah was able to avenge my daughter." This was making painful sense. "Ah visited the hospital again, went to the Intensive Care Unit, saved all the patients, a group miracle they claimed, and then-then Ah turned around gave those heartless monsters a one way ticket to hell on the most painful routes imaginable. Instant cancer. Instant AIDS. Imagine their surprise."

The black bed sheets, the picture of Tilby, the mood swings and her need for anti-depressants it all made perfect sense.

"They never could convict anyone. And they can't now!" She screamed, pushing Tilby's jacket sleeve up, "I have Chris' wounds from Sabretooth, they'll think it was him."

I found my voice, though I couldn't find my heart after her story.

"They'll-think it was a -mutant and hate us -even more."

"What's your point, fearless leader?" Still that uncertain shake in her voice instilled me with hope. My breathing was easing as her attention kept to the curious side, I was not sure if she had to make it a conscious effort or if my blood was slowly adapting to whatever she hit me with earlier.

"If-you want morenegative publicity for our kind, then kill her." She hiked up an eyebrow which showed complete confusion. "But-" I quickly added as she glanced down at her victim, "You don't want to do this."

"Oh, puh-leese!" She retorted with a snort. "Reverse psychology doesn't work on me."

"There's no reverse," I alleged, losing the battle with my legs and sliding down the length of the car. I was completely helpless and if she wanted to, D-M could kill me no problem. No witnesses just like she wanted or thought she wanted. "You wanted to be caught. You wanted to be stopped."

Daisy's entire made-up face twitched. "You're lying."

My ears screamed at the assault.

"It's true," I wheezed. "You left all the clues, gave all the clues, you wanted to be stopped. You didn't want to hurt anyone else, right?"

Glancing up at my teammate, I saw more and more tears come as she slowly began to shake her head in denial. "No! No! Anna Marie-!"

I slowly gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I know," I confessed in a raspy voice. "I don't talk much about myself for a reason, but I know what you're going through."

She grimaced.

"You couldn't. You're the perfect little girl with your perfect life and parents and not to mention you have -"

"My father was shot, I held him as he died." I looked her straight in the eye. She would only be the second person to hear the truth. I wouldn't have drudged up such a painful memory, or reveal what I was about to. "I know hate."

She let go of Tilby— that was a good sign.

"My-dad died right in front of me because he tried to help mutants or he was thought to be trying to help mutants. That's what his killer said, a killer who never got into trouble for murdering my dad." I gritted my teeth at the memory much like D-M had done. "I hated that man and I hated mutants. I spent the time since my dad's death until the moment when I discovered I was a mutant learning about mutants. The genetic freaks and why they were hated so much and I wanted to kill each and every one of them."

I could hear the shouts of Cyclops, Gambit, and Dr. Hank coming from down the street.

Good, they were near and that meant Tilby's salvation was close.

"I felt like I betrayed my dad by not seeking vengeance on the people responsible for his death. Just like you feel the need to kill Tilby for the death of your daughter, right?" She stammered a weak defense. "You don't want to kill her, but you feel like you're betraying your loved one by not at least trying, even if you don't really want to do it."

She broke down and started to cry hard.

"I-I have to!" She bawled. "My baby-!" Dropping to her knees, she continued to cry long and hard. Cyclops came running up to us a few second afterwards.

"Kia!" He screamed, she looked up, and started to panic. My eyes blurred again, but I heard shouts and Cyclops power being fired. I wanted to defend her, to tell them she was just confused, but I couldn't talk anymore. My voice throbbed with overuse and I felt someone pick me up.

"Kookie, you okay?" Gambit asked.

I groaned in reply which would have been translated into 'fine' in Groanish. From the blobs of colors I could make out, D-M was now in Cyclops arms, he made one quick command for all of us, even Trish, to get on the Blackbird ASAP.

I felt nastily light headed, the blackness dancing around my vision, just waiting to swarm in and take me to the land of the black veil.

I guessed the stench wasn't my dried barf in my hair, but Mr. Kurt's teleportation. That's the last thing I remembered, thanks be to the Sandman that I passed out after that. I wanted the whole experience to just be a horrible nightmare and not the truth.

I would have done anything for it to be fake.

Hello, darkness! Your kiss of ebony had never been so welcomed!