Disclaimer- Dark Angel belongs to James Cameron, Eglee, and Fox. I only own the story/plot, all original characters you see throughout the story, and the personalities of the canon X5's not given any or enough screen time on the show. I also own the purely fictional town of Chatzbrooke, Montana, unless of course said town is in fact a town in Montana. I highly doubt it, however.
Siren
Reunion
The wound on her side, though still bleeding and needing proper attention, had hastily been wrapped with a strip of cloth torn from the dirty gown she wore, acting as a poor excuse of a bandage. It would have to do, however, until she reached Zack. She couldn't afford to stop, and give herself the proper amount of medical care. They were still after her. If she stopped they would find her. Take her back to Manticore. Take her back and torture her even more than before, use her against her siblings. They would take her, kicking and screaming, back down into the basement, locking her away until they had use for her. That just wasn't acceptable; she refused to go back.
She was running again, having abandoned the car that had transported her almost across the Wyoming/Montana border after the owner of the car, an elderly man she had forced to drive seeing how she didn't know how, had tired to run away from her. She had no doubt he would have gone straight to the police. She had snapped his neck, left the body in the car, and the car in a ditch. She hadn't bothered to erase the evidence that pointed to her having been there. It didn't matter that she was leaving a clean trail for Manticore to pick up; once she had found Zack he would take care of everything. She had been reassured that by her brother before he told her to leave and to find Zack.
Her brother. She stopped suddenly, whipped her head around to look in the direction she had just came from. Was he okay? What was Manticore, Lydecker, doing to him? A small sound, almost like a cat-like mewl, escaped her throat. She furrowed her brow. Bit her lip sharply. She extended her arm out, stretched her fingers to their full length as if she could reach him and bring him with her. The sudden sound of an oncoming vehicle snapped her back into attention. She had to stay focused. Focused until she found Zack. Zack would make everything better.
She kneeled on the ground, ignoring the rocks, twigs, and other forest things littering the forest floor and scratching her knees. A few scratches on her knees was nothing compared to the wound located on her side, and the cuts on her bare feet. She was X5 though, had spent most of her years in the dark, cold basement with the nomalies. Had been experimented on, beaten, worked to complete exhaustion. She would be fine, she would heal. Zack would make sure of it when she found him. When she found him.
She stayed crouched on the ground. The car lights flashing off her before the small, beat up automobile passed her. It never slowed. She sprang up, started running again. She was nothing but a blur. She needed to find him, and quick. She was beginning to feel the effects of being shot and running for your life. She quickened her pace. Not long now.
(Chatzbrooke, Montana)
He felt he was in enemy territory this close to Wyoming, and to him he was. He would move out first thing tomorrow. Move out and on before the sun even fully crested the sky. Tension radiated from his body. His whole body ready to attack if the need arose. He was almost positive though, that if an attack did take place it would be from some local. Chatzbrooke, Montana was not a place you wanted to walk around alone, especially at night and if you were female. A place without any real law enforcement, and crime rates high, it was a heaven for criminals. Prostitutes were also in high numbers. He never paid them any mind.
He continued his trek up the street toward the dilapidated motel where the cockroach-infested room he had rented was located. A light ran began to sprinkle down on him. He scowled. He wasn't a fan of rain. He suspected it to be due to his feline DNA. After all cats didn't like water. It made sense that he having the DNA of one would affect his outlook on the wet weather. One reason why he never stayed in Seattle for long, it was to rainy and wet. He knew a lot of his siblings were like he was, however, there were some exceptions.
He sighed. His siblings. That was why he was in Montana currently. Relocation had been in order for one of his sisters, and Montana had been his choice of relocation. Maybe as a bit of punishment for getting herself into trouble in the first place and not listening to the orders given to her. He raked a hand through his damp hair. He understood that they wanted the freedom to live their own lives, but damn it! Didn't they realize that they were his life and that they were his responsibility to keep safe? Didn't they realize that Manticore was still out there and until it was gone they would never be able to truly settle down? Didn't they realize that he was so strict because he had to be? To keep them safe and out of Manticore's, out of Donald Lydecker's clutches. He growled softly.
The rain was coming down in heavier sheets. He quickened his walk, saw with a little relief the rundown motel a little farther up the street. A prostitute, not even over fifteen yet even though you couldn't tell from all the makeup painting her face, called out at him. Offered up her virtue, but maybe her virtue had disappeared long ago. He ignored her, didn't give the slightest indication that he had heard her provocative call, or saw her young body dressed in clothes created for a whore. He kept walking. Reached the motel, walked to the room that once had gold numbers but now had the number 13 scrawled messily across the door in black permanent marker, and reached into his pocket for his key. He pushed it open, the door sticking only a second before giving way to his forceful push. He entered, closed the door.
The room had threadbare cream carpet, frayed around the edges and stained from past residents. It smelled musky and stale. The walls were a dingy white with large brown stains. He didn't know from what, nor did he care. The bed had a single worn sheet with the lingering smell of sweat from past renters imprinted into the fabric. The pillows were without cases, white and striped blue. The window… was broken.
He tensed visibly. Alert and ready for any sudden surprises. His eyes scanned the room, stopped on the small figure in the corner. His hand inched toward the inside of his jacket, identified the figure as human. He couldn't see their face, however. Chin lowered to their chest, tangled, dirty locks obscuring his view of their face even more. He could see from their spot in the shadowy corner though, that they were of small frame and short. Their arms hung down by their sides, weaponless. Their side… blood soaked the thin gown they were wearing. Gown… He would know a gown like that anywhere.
He readied himself. He wouldn't go back. He would kill them before they could even call for backup, pack up, and leave Montana at once. Drive them away from his sister and then lose them. The person raised their head, all thoughts of attack were dashed aside. Those eyes. Such bright, unnatural lime green, almost neon.
"Siren." It was a shocked, strangled whisper, but she heard him. She looked at him. Relief and absolute exhaustion filled her eyes. She promptly collapsed.
A/N- Okay this chapter just wouldn't cooperate. Not exactly happy with it. I might go back and redo it, might not. As of right now though, it stays. I'm beyond tired and just can't get the mood right. It may not have went the way I wanted, but it got to the point I wanted. Yes, I know. It is already the second chapter and she has already meet up with Zack. It seems soon, but her meeting Zack and the aftermath of it is where other things start to come in. Sorry if it seemed forced or rushed, and sorry for the shortness of it. Thank you, my reviewers, for reviewing. If you have any questions about the story that I can actually answer without giving anything away then ask in a review and I'll message you back. If you don't have an account and have questions then leave your email address or someway for me to contact you with your answers. No flames, they'll be ignored and discarded. Until next time.
SatiricalPhilosophy