Chapter 62
When he was 2, Glen hadn't been born yet, hadn't even been conceived. "So… you don't know for sure if it's your genetics or the Mythril that passed magic to Glen, do you?" Malcolm shook his head, not a big surprise. "Dad…" It still felt so weird using that term, but Taker was trying. "I love Abigail and," He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know her heart is in the right place, but I don't trust her to make the right calls."
Because she did things on assumptions, on what she felt was right and she had figuratively given him a big 'fuck you' in the process. What if she had been wrong? What if she had risked all that for nothing? What if Malcolm hadn't known jack and they gave this medicine to people and those people died?
"I don't know what to do, she's not like any woman I've ever known."
Malcolm chuckled, clapping his son on the shoulder and squeezed it. "Your mother was the same way. That woman was so damn stubborn, wouldn't listen to a word I said, even AFTER finding out she had powers. There were times I wanted to rip my hair out, my boy, and I know that's how you feel with Abigail. But let me tell you something – I wouldn't have traded her for anything in the world. I loved her so much, still do." He hadn't even looked at another woman since his beloved passed on. "Abigail has a curiosity burning inside of her and she's eager to learn, to try new things. And at the time, she was only thinking of how best to hurt Bray Wyatt and the Dominion. Taking away their only source of magic, it put them in a very vulnerable state and that's probably why Wyatt is pushing his plans up. I know you don't condone her rescuing me and I don't blame you, but…she did do the right thing by bringing me here. Not only was it good for Susie, but I am the last true sorcerer of Vesperia…besides you. She reunited us and I don't regret that for a second. If it bothers you this much, maybe you should talk to her. But I wouldn't get hung up on the 'what ifs' because, as you can see, she was right in her assumptions about the Mythril. Just chalk it up to a stroke of luck and move forward, move toward the future."
Talking to Malcolm had only relieved his mind a fraction. Now he was a bit concerned on other fronts. What happened the next time Abigail had an assumption… Taker groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Well, at least he'd never be bored. She was definitely going to keep him on his toes.
Unbeknownst to Mark and Malcolm, Abigail had overheard their conversation, but hadn't made her presence known. Mark still didn't trust her and had only pretended for the sake of maintaining peace between them. She'd been right in her 'assumptions' and gut instincts; she'd been right to rescue Malcolm because that was how she discovered Bray's secret, but it didn't mean she would go off and do it again though. Hadn't she promised him she would do whatever he wanted? Why couldn't he just let it go? He, along with his men and women, would've been slaughtered if not for her 'assumptions' and reactive heart!
If Mark was so worried about Mythril, he should've been a man, stood up and told Malcolm it wasn't happening. Instead, he was keeping his mouth shut and letting the old man do whatever he wanted. Abigail would never understand him and wondered if their differences would ultimately lead to their downfall, their own destruction. Only when they finished talking did she wait 5 more minutes before finally walking up to them, not bothering to smile because this wasn't a happy occasion.
Taker acknowledged Abigail with a nod, his eyes already moving ahead, taking in the people lining the streets.
"You best bring our men back safe, 'Taker!"
"Send those bastards in the DOV packing straight to Hell!"
"We're counting on you all!"
THIS is why he worried so much. Abigail and Malcolm had never had thousands of people depending on either of them. He wasn't able to make decisions based on a 'reactive heart' and assumptions. Taker wasn't gambling with lives. It was great, a miracle, that her assumptions had proven correct. He just didn't want Abigail using this one time as her justification for being able to do it again.
Eventually, that luck would run out.
"No pressure."
It did not help matters these people were putting all this pressure on Mark. It actually infuriated Abigail because they were grown adults capable of protecting themselves. Mark was just one man, with magic, but still only ONE MAN. She kept her face forward, refusing to acknowledge the idiots calling out to them, and headed out of the gates, seeing how tensed up her man was. Those assholes needed to learn how to fend for themselves and not rely on one man to protect them. There were a couple thousand at least in the town of Wonderful, how did they expect him to protect every single person? Putting her bag in one of the saddlebags of his bike, Abigail only brought what she would need and nothing extra. However, she did make sure to bring the invisibility cloak, just in case.
"We ready?" He had magically amplified his voice to be heard by everyone assembled, dropping his shades down off his head and onto his nose.
A resounding cheer of yes went up and he found himself grinning. It was only natural that people wanted someone to guide them, to lead, it was human nature. Not to mention, the number of people the DOV had captured or killed was proof that individuals and small groups did not last very long. Taker still wasn't entirely sure how he had wound up with the role. He had saved a few people, made some suggestions, and that was all it took before he became the head honcho of Wonderful.
"We're not playing hero people. We go in, we do our job, we COME HOME."
"Yeah, you heard him. No crazy stunts, no pullin' bullshit for glory."
He let Steve take over, glancing down at Abigail and grinned at her. "You ready to end all this, darlin'?"
This was it. The moment she had longed for…so many years of pain and innocent bloodshed, manipulation, and deceit, heartbreak, and darkness, even though the Dominion claimed to be pure. It was pure alright – pure evil. It was time to destroy it.
"Yes."
There was no smiling, not yet, not until Bray's spell was broken and the DOV was taken out. Abigail looked up at the gates, hoping she came back here alive instead of in a bag or…worse. Silently saying goodbye, just in case, Abigail hopped on the back of the Harley Davidson and waited for Mark to mount in front of her, her hands gently resting on his hips. This reminded her of the first time they left Wonderful together to go explore that library, his surprise to her…and her revelation to him. So much had happened in a short span of time, it was mind-boggling. A few minutes later, they all roared out on the open road with Mark and Steve at the front.
The plan was to drive throughout the day, camp at night. This many motorcycles on the road meant they were taking the direct route, not that he was expecting to run into anyone for the first half of this trip. It would be a few days before he began worrying about confrontation. Admittedly, it did feel good to have a game plan, to finally be doing something about the DOV, and he knew it was because of Abigail they were getting this shot. Of course, she was personally vested into this and he had to wonder, for everything she had said, if she would be able to stomach the death of her childhood friend.
Death was the only way to stop Bray.
He was beyond redemption, beyond saving, and she'd come to terms with that throughout the years seeing his cruelty. There was no more love for him, only hatred and sadness. It would hurt to see Bray die, but at the same time, it would also be a relief to finally end his reign of tyranny. They stopped every 3 hours, which reminded her of the travel back to Wonderful, where she, Dean, and Malcolm had to walk 3 hours, then stop to rest for half an hour, before continuing on. At least this time, they had transportation and they wouldn't wear out the soles of their shoes. Once the sun began setting on the horizon, Mark called out with his magical amplified voice to everyone to pull over, they were setting up camp for the night.
"Boss, if we stop every few hours every day, it's gonna take longer than it should to get there." Steve pointed out, helping Taker to assemble tents, smiling when Abigail came around to help as well.
"Not everyone is used to riding for hours on end. A lot of the soldiers will be saddle sore enough as it is tonight." 'Taker remarked thoughtfully. "We'll aim for longer tomorrow and hopefully, by day three, they'll be uh…"
"Calloused assed?"
"Why don't you go start making sure people are putting together their food, or go toss your bald ass in a lake or something?"
Steve started laughing, shaking said bald head. He had brought a bandana to wear over it, not about to get sunburnt on his scalp.
Pulling out the map she'd used with Dean on their trip, Abigail looked over it and slid her finger along the route they'd taken, nodding. Steve was right. They couldn't stop every 3 hours anymore, not if they were going to cut Bray off. It wouldn't be on DOV soil like they wanted, but…it would be in the middle of the map where they'd collide. Bray wouldn't have all of his forces assembled since some had to remain at the castle, so after they took out the wave Bray brought, along with Bray himself, they still had to liberate and kill those at the castle who opposed them. She folded the map back up and slid it back in her back pocket before helping Victoria set up the tents and whatnot.
"There's something I need you to do for me…and I know Taker won't go for it, but…this has to look real."
Victoria arched a brow, wondering what Abigail had in mind, and continued working. "Okay…what is it?"
"I need you to…beat me up. Not to the point of making me unconscious, but…maybe a split lip and some bruising. Just enough to show that I've been abused, possibly tortured."
Now both brows were up. "You want me to…rough you up, in other words? Have you discussed this with the boss?"
"No."
"Afraid he won't go for it?"
"Yes."
"I'm not doing it without his consent. So you better tell him your idea and see if he has an alternative."
"If he okays it, will you do it?"
"Sure…" Victoria really hoped this didn't come back to bite her in the backside.
"Thanks."
Tents were up, campfires assembled, and he hadn't bothered ordering a watch. The same magic that protected Wonderful could be used to protect the encampment, one of the benefits of him keeping the talisman inside of him during this trip. Taker had thought about trying to do this during the fight, but… that'd mean Wyatt's men wouldn't be able to get anywhere near his men. Not necessarily a bad thing, but not everyone was packing guns. A lot of people were using swords since the council had agreed to leave the majority of firearms within Wonderful to protect the city from the walls, if the city was attacked. He had brewed coffee over their fire when Abigail finally made her way back to their tent, flashing her a grin from his place on the ground.
"Made some stew, you're going to eat." The smile began fading at the look on her face. "What's wrong, Abbie?" He patted the space beside him. "Come here, darlin'."
"I do eat…"
Just not a lot lately and who could blame her? Finding out she had magic powers, which Stephanie made her feel better about, of all people, and now they were on their way to destroy Bray and the DOV. She sat down beside him, taking the bowl of stew he passed to her, and sat Indian style, beginning to take a couple of bites.
"I need to talk to you about something…and you're not going to like it." Abigail looked up at him, seeing his brow arched, and dropped her gaze back to her bowl. "It'll look…suspicious to Bray if I'm simply strapped to your symbol, strung up, however you wanna put it, without being…roughed up. I know that's not the type of person you are, but…he NEEDS to believe, without any doubt, I'm in danger. He needs to believe you will kill me unless he comes for me. So, I asked Victoria if she would…rough me up and she said to ask you about it first, to see if there's another alternative. I don't see one and I don't think magic can give the illusion of being beaten up, do you?"
"Well on me, yeah, but I can't project it that way." Taker murmured thoughtfully. "I suppose makeup isn't an option, is it?" When she shook her head, he groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment as he considered it. "You do know how bad that'll hurt? Victoria is a bad bitch, she doesn't hold anything back and I've seen her take out men my size, Abbie." Victoria could definitely make Abigail look like she was abused, but the problem was, she WOULD actually be roughed up. "I do see your point, and agree with it, but Christ…" She was right, and he was going to wind up giving his blessing for his woman to have her back side handed to her.
"Hey, we gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelet and it has to be real."
Makeup could easily smear, that was not an option, not when this was a life or death situation for everyone involved. Bray HAD to believe this charade wholeheartedly or else they would be sunk. Abigail reached up to stroke his cheek, smiling softly, and saw the worry in his eyes, knowing he didn't want this to happen to her.
"Amy taught me a few things about sparring, so maybe I'll just spar with her and…have her rough me up that way." Bruising was a given, along with pain and Abigail was willing to feel any amount of pain in order to stop Bray and the DOV forever. "I'll have her do it the day before we meet up with them, so everything looks…fresh." She had a couple of days to wrap her mind around what was going to happen to her and to talk to Victoria again.
"Honestly… if you're going to do this, you might as well go the whole hog, darlin'." Taker hated himself for what he was about to say. "Fresh bruises are all well and fine, but you want him to think you've been what, outed? Which means we've been… beating you, for longer than a day. You might want to consider uh, sparring with her tomorrow and then the morning of, gives you bruises on bruises of varying degrees." It would look like she was also beaten regularly as opposed to just every now and then and Taker's appetite was gone.
