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: ebell1
Chapter oo3
" 'Spose you 'spect a 'thank you'…"
She blinked a few times, she'd been around Toad enough to know his voice. "What?"
Toad was standing over her, looking blurry and strange through the veil of sleep.
"Too bad I didn't 'preciate the savin' much."
She felt a sharp pain in her upper arm, and a suffocating weight on her chest. Blood bubbled around the knife in her arm, and he smirked down at her from where he had plopped down on her chest.
Then he suddenly leaded down and nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent, "It'll be fun killing you, pet." The pain in her arm slowly faded.
Natalya awoke groggily. She could feel hot breath on her neck; his torso was draped over hers, explaining the crushing weight. How had he gotten on top of her so suddenly, and without waking her up. The pain in her arm was inexplicable, however. Looking it over, she saw nothing wrong with it.
The Russian pushed him off gently, but with urgency spurned from disgust. Even if he were not so ugly, so creepy, so crazy; he smelled unwashed and his breath held the edge of sickness.
This had just gotten a hell of a lot harder; how could she deal with him being sick as well? She had no medicine whatsoever, and a cold could quickly become something much worse in such a place. The fire had gone out, and while his body felt too hot, he was shivering.
Great.
She really should have left him to die, no one would have missed him, she reasoned, hell, no one would miss him now. Now he was a useless burden.
She could get to civilization on her own; easily save herself, but what would she do if she remained with the feverish mutant with the broken leg?
Looking to the sky, she was almost knocked over by the brightness of the stars on the inky black that showed through the tree branches. Her breath billowed over her face, and she unconsciously hunkered down into the sleeping bag.
'I can not leave him, it would not be right. Michael would not leave someone like this." She thought of him then; her husband with is kind green eyes, his dark hair, his bronze skin and strong arms. What she wouldn't have given then to have been with him then instead of there with Toad of all possible beings.
She was not the religious person he was, but she closed her eyes and prayed then, for him, for herself, and even for the miserable brit laying beside her. She would not abandon anyone out here, she couldn't. Even knowing of all the horrible things he had done, even if she was utterly disgusted to be touching that weirdly slimy skin, even though she figured he'd kill her if he got half a chance…
She couldn't value his life as any less than hers.
Perhaps she was foolish in that way.
She spent most of the next morning setting traps and snares, stupidly ignoring her hunger with the thought of preserving what little rations she had. Now she felt sick as she scouted for a new place to stay, and tossed firewood on the makeshift sled of a heavily needled pine branch. She would probably be able to drag Toad on it if she had to.
With all the sweating she was doing she wasn't going to smell much better than him by the time they went to sleep. She grimaced at the memory of his clammy, slimy skin rubbing against hers.
She lugged her second haul of wood back to their little encampment, half-hoping she wouldn't find a more suitable place because then she would probably have to move the wood. Glancing over at him while stacking up the wood, she saw he was almost half-way out of the sleeping bag, obviously awake.
She turned, and for a long moment, just stared at him. He didn't acknowledge that she was there, but she wasn't sure if that was because he was out of it, or didn't care.
She cleared her throat.
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