Title: In the Shadows
Author: Pseudoangel
Warnings: Mature content, but nothing too graphic. A few choice words, and a depressed Warren. He always seemed like the brooding type, and I just love to exploit this. Also, random grammatical and mechanical errors, as always. Some days I will learns good:B
Disclaimer: All characters appearing here belong to Marvel. Otherwise, Warren would have his own series. Yes he would.
In the Shadows
By: Pseudoangel
I wish I could warn them. Do something, to let them know just to walk away. They would thank me later. I know they would.
Maybe it is my wealth that draws them to me. Greed can cause even the most rational people to do idiotic and reckless things. Like for instance-- trying to converse with me.
"Really, Warren, are you going to lie there all day?"
"No." I might have use the restroom at some point, but that's a big if.
She purses her lips slightly, in that motherly way of hers. "I am sure Elizabeth would enjoy a nice walk. It's such a beautiful morning." She motions to the large window that consumes my right wall, as if this will somehow motivate me to come out of my lethargic caveman-like coma.
I burrow deeper into the blankets scattered on my bed. How comfy. "Betsy isn't a dog, Jean. I am sure that she is capable of walking herself."
She is debating between chuckling and storming out in frustration. She settles for a nicely played roll of the eyes.
"You know what I meant."
I blink slowly. "Yeah, sure." The apathy of my reply is not muffled by the layers of blankets eating at my face.
I feel cold and blank. I indifferently stare at the wall before me. I just want her to leave.
Maybe it is her telepathy, or perhaps she is just bored with me. Either way, she slowly stalks out of the room, just as suddenly as she entered it.
I know should care that I ruined her life. She probably married Scott just to get the hell away from me. Without me lusting after her, perhaps she could have escaped this rat hole Xavier runs. She never would have "died" at the hands of Phoenix, nor have deal with super villains on a daily basis.
I was such a stupid kid. Now I am simply a stupid man, who just wants to go to sleep. Maybe if I am lucky, I won't wake up.
…
Unfortunately, I do.
I can feel her hovering silently over me. She appears to be content watching me, like some ancient stone gargoyle.
Sometimes she sits, analyzes, devours me. Then there are other times, she nestles herself beside my body. I am unaware as to what causes it to change from day to day.
I don't pretend to understand her, or her tresses of rich lavender hair splayed across my shoulder. It masks her face much like a velvet curtain; she is always shrouded in mystery.
As much as I love Bets, I can't help but corrupt her. The exotic red marking stamped across her eye is a testament to that.
I couldn't let her go. Selfishly, I wanted to keep her for myself. I traded her soul, pieces of her humanity, for moments like these. So she could consume me with her eyes.
The worst part is, I don't regret any of it. If confronted with the same circumstances, I would do it again-- even knowing what I do now.
Greed can make you do irrational and stupid things. I was acting in greed when I surrendered soul to the crimson dawn.
But it is in love, that I will leave her.
"Bets, let's go for a walk. It's such a beautiful day."
She mutely agrees, abandoning her perch on the bed. She slowly slips on a pair of aged, but well loved sandals. It dawns on me how much I will miss her.
As we walk the estate arm and arm, she admires the cherry blossoms, while I try to absorb everything about her. The texture of her silk skin, the sound of her feet colliding with the grass beneath us, everything and anything I can fathom that is relatedto her.
In time, we come to an ancient oak that towers over us. It's distorted shadow stretches over our bodies, shielding us from the sun above.
It is in the shadows that I lost her, and it is there that I will set her free.
Like a band-aid, I want it to be quick and painless. "I'm sorry," I mutter.
She picks up a rebellious acorn that must have been digging into her flesh. She slowly contemplates it, just like my apology.
"You should be." A sly smirk follows. "It is rather ungentlemanly for a man to steal all the duvet, and hogall the pillows."
I want to laugh. But I can't. Even when she launches the unruly acorn turned missile at my head, all I can do is stare at her like some gawking idiot.
She doesn't get it. "Bets, I can't do this anymore."
"I know what you're trying to do."
I turn to her, dumbfounded. "You do?"
She coolly replies, "Yes, but you're not going to leave."
She sinks into the shadows of the grass, as though she is some lethargic cat. Slowly, her lips move. " Whatever rationalizations you have for this-- you're wrong."
Just as she ends her rather matter-of-fact statement, I feel cool droplets of water touch my skin. The beautiful day, was probably a lie. An illusion. Orono must have been fighting with Logan. They have both been at wits end lately.
Not that I can relate, as Besty leans slowly towards me. She is probably going to beat me to a bloody pulp.
It's not like blame her. I would kick my own ass if I could.
"I need you, and as much as you hate to admit it, you need me as well." Instead of a sucker punch to the jaw, I feel her lips pressed against mine. A soft tease or flesh.
"If you love me, you'll stay."
I attempt to swallow the impossibly large lump lodged in my throat "I… ," as hard as I try, I can't tell her I don't love her. I know it would be the biggest lie of my life.
"… I'll stay," because I love her. Even if it means ruining her like Jean, breaking her like Charlotte, or even killing her like Candy; I will remain by her.
Slowly, and sinuously we start to make love under the wise old weathered oak in the rain. I use my cold metal wings to shelter her from the water falling on us.
The droplets of rain sound hollow and metallic as they ping against the numbed brokenfeathers. It sounds so empty. Instead, I concentrate on her breathing. Harsh and erratic.
I don't care about anything except her. Not what I did to Jean, not Apocalypse, or even that month old tuna sandwich haunting the back of fridge.
She'll hate me someday. I know this, but she can't say I didn't warn her.
Author's Notes:
This story takes place around Uncanny X-Men #330ish, after Psylocke gets a beat down from Sabertooth, but before #338 when Warren regains his original wings.
Warren always seemed a little cold and distant even before his whole Horseman of Apocalypse stint. How I love to mess with him.
I always enjoyed him and Psylocke much more than any of his other girlfriends. Especially Paige. What were they thinking?