Prayer of the Refugee
Summary : ToadOC:She saved him,he didn't appreciate it very much,it was an embarrassment to be saved by a weeks together will see them to her organizations base and difficult decisions will have to be non-sue experience.
Warnings: This story is going to contain coarse language, gore, violence, mentions of drug abuse, and sexually explicit content.
Memo: Just getting the story, this is a base into, so don't expect much. If your impatient and just clicking here for a flimsy plot, story and lots of smut, click away because you won't like this story. Guaranteed non-sue experience.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of X-Men, just my originals and this story.
Exalted Fans:
Chapter oo2
The break was apparently very clean because it didn't take much shifting before it seemed it was back in place, and she wrapped it tightly to a stripped branch with what cloth she could spare from one of her shirts. He'd groaned, grunted, and twitched throughout the whole process. She was pleased with that, it meant he would likely wake-up relatively soon.
"I am going to go see if I can get my pack," she told him, "I will be back as soon as I can. I will not leave you."
She wasn't sure why she felt the need for the reassuring words, nor was she sure why she felt the need to gently squeeze his hand as she said it.
His fingers were cold as death. She frowned.
She tossed a few more pieces of wood on the fire before she headed back towards the way they had come. It took about twenty minutes for her to find the pack. It was black, and the recent light covering of snow had made it look like a rock making her walk past it at least three times.
With a smile she put one the heavy pack and jogged back to the pine tree. She was just about back to their little encampment when she head a very rough-sounding voice shouting and cursing almost incoherently. If he'd woken up, he was probably feeling his injuries. His broken leg wasn't his only ailment, after all. Calling on her quickly depleting reserve of strength, she forced a short sprint out of her legs.
He was thrashing around, a wild, pained look on his faced as he tried and failed to get up again and again. Natalya could only stare with a hard, irritated scowl on her face. He was like a child throwing a tantrum. Sure he was in pain, but she was pretty sure he wasn't stupid. At least, that was her thought until he started yanking at his splint, realizing that was largely the reason he could not bend his leg to get up.
"What are you, crazy? Leave that alone!" she hurled her pack off to the side and pounced on him, forcing her body over his, and trying to force his hand away from the splint. She realized quickly that he was infinitely stronger than she was, even though once she had pounced he had largely stopped struggling.
He stared at the woman holding his wrists, dumbly, seeming to be in a stupor, his bizarre oversized eyes glazed and vacant. He didn't know where he was, or what was going on. He might as well have been blind.
Quite abruptly her fell backwards, eyes closing lazily as he fell into unconsciousness.
Hesitantly, she let go of his wrists and got off of him. She laughed loudly, but the humor in it was minimal. She hadn't known the brit had such a mouth on him, and her severely stressed mind though what had just happened was hilarious.
Sighing she got her pack, untying the sleeping bag. It seemed to pop open with how tightly it had been rolled up.
She threw some more sticks on the fire. There was a very small hatchet in her pack, but with the sun going down, there was no time to add to the meager pile of firewood.
She unzipped the sleeping bag and laid it out, working to get Toad onto it without disturbing his leg or waking him up. She took the liberty of taking off his coat, pants, and boots, as well as her own. And as quickly as she could, she zipped up the sleeping bag, clothes overtop it.
Their top layers of clothes had been covered in snow, and they couldn't risk having it melt and freeze on them. She figured it was better for him anyway, his body was so cold… her body should warm his up, and without the inhibiting layer of a goose-down jacket, her body heat would be far better shared.
It was more than a little strange being this close to a man besides her husband, and strange was the chosen word from discounting the fact that the man in question was clinically insane, quite ugly, slightly slimy, and a homicidal mutant terrorist. But if she didn't do this, at least one of them would die. Besides, she was too physically exhausted to dwell on the fact.
She only hoped he wouldn't wake up and start thrashing around again.
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