Maia meets Weapon X
"You say your mind is a terrible thing to waste
What good is mine if I'm locked up in a cage?
I was hoping you could help me out of here
So I could finally disappear."
(The Shake (Awful Feeling)- My American Heart)
Weapon X woke from sleep aware of several things. One, the hunger that had plagued him for days was still there, and two, there was an absolutely delicious scent wafting through the vents that graciously brought air into his tiny box for him to breathe.
There was a taint to the delicious scent though: fear.
Pain he understood. He felt pain every moment of every day. Fear he didn't understand. There was no room for fear in his tiny world. Fear was weakness, and beings that showed fear usually met his claws. He could hear a heart hammering away outside his cell.
Visions of electric probes and bullets ripping through flesh that almost instantly knitted back together swam in his head. Whoever was stupid enough to wake him up would pay. At least the torture was on a relatively consistent schedule, and this was not one of the usual times. His cell opened slowly, and, with a snick, his claws ripped through his skin, ready to destroy his next victim.
Just outside the cell, he stopped, all the fury leaving him. The delicious scent and the fear came from one and the same. A female form was curled on the floor in front of the room's only exit, a river of red hair that looked unbelievably soft hiding the female's face from him. He stared, trying to make sense of why his captors had tossed a female in his prison with him. Was she here to torture him? If so, why hadn't she started? He took a step forward, his cold feet sticking slightly to the metal floor.
The female gasped suddenly, and her head popped up.
Abruptly they were staring at one another's face, and it was more than he could bear. He'd seen females, killed a few, and wanted to kill several more. They had been grown, though, soldiers or doctors with hardly anything other than scent to differentiate them from their male counterparts. This one, however, was wholly female. She stared at him with big blue eyes, and that damned red hair fell in mesmerizing curls past her bare shoulders. Her skin was different from his own with it's pale color and, even from the distance they were apart, he could imagine it's softness.
"I'm not going to hurt you." The female whispered, holding her hands out in front of her, "I know that's what you think I'm here to do, but I'm not. They sent me in here for you to kill me. Eat me."
He growled deeply at her, and she squeaked like a mouse, jumping back so her backside was pressed against the exit.
The scent of fear was renewed, and she started panting, "Oh, please don't kill me."
There was an unknown urge to get her to stop in a way that didn't involve cutting through the perfect pale flesh with his claws, and he stepped closer.
She gasped again, fixing him with those big eyes that were now glistening with moisture…tears he recognized slowly. She took two deep breaths, and stood. The female was of average height for the females he could recall seeing, but something about her made her seem smaller. She was utterly non-threatening. Or at least that was what he thought until she held a hand out to him, "I'm Maia." He stared at the shaking appendage, unused to an empty one being extended towards him and his reaction not being to hack it off. She trembled all over in fear, but took another deep breath, "You, uh, shake it in one of yours."
The man narrowed his gaze on her hand, and then again on her eyes. He took one shuffling step forward, unsure of what to do, but aware that she seemed to be inviting him closer. The sudden snick as his claws retracted startled her, but she managed not to jump too badly, she just gave another tiny gasp.
He couldn't help the grunt of amusement that escaped him. He was quickly finding he liked those tiny gasps. A new expression found it's way on the female's face, but her hand stayed extended as she spoke, a little more bravely, "Making fun of me is rude. You haven't even shaken my hand yet."
He slid his hand into hers and instantly wished he hadn't. Her fear had abated just enough that it was clear what the delicious scent was. Her. Underneath the skin of his hand, her's was soft, yielding perfectly, her pulse thrumming beneath his touch, making the scent all the more heady.
She breathed deeply, slipping her hand from his grip, "There, that wasn't so bad, was it? If you aren't going to eat me, we might as well be civilized. What's your name?"
His head instantly ached, as it always did when he tried to remember his past. Did he even have a name? He turned away from her, his body swaying slightly.
The female, Maia, reached out and put both hands on his back, "Hey, no, stop! It's okay, you don't need to tell me right now."
He was fixated on it though. What was his name? The pain continued to lance through his head, and eventually it was all he could focus on.
Maia stepped even closer, trying to get her face in front of his, "Please, stop. I can read your mind, and I can tell you're hurting yourself."
He stilled. She could read his mind?
She nodded frantically, "Yes! I mean, it's harder than with most people, but, yeah, I can."
What the fuck was Stryker thinking?
Maia looked puzzled, "Who's Stryker?" When he didn't answer, realization dawned in her eyes, "You can't speak, can you?" He shook his head once, so imperceptibly that she wouldn't have been able to notice if she hadn't been staring him right in the face.
The skin around her mouth was suddenly pulled backwards, her eyes tightening in the corners. "That's okay. You don't eat me, I'll keep you company. Deal?"
She seemed satisfied with his thoughts because the skin around her mouth pulled back farther, "It's called a smile, wild man. You're not going to eat me, so damned right I'm gonna smile." Her heart raced, but the stench of fear was gone, leaving behind the sweet scent of her skin. He liked her smile and the divine way she smelled, Stryker be damned.