Falling for the Beast
"LMFranklin20"
Disclaimer: Left 4 Dead does not belong to me and I do not make any money off of this non-canon fiction.
Summary: Dr. Angelica Pavlov is put on the worst possible job she could get: training and socializing a feral Alpha male Hunter. When he shows an unnerving interest in her, Angelica finds herself falling for the beast.
Rating: M+ due to blood, gore, violence, language, and intensely detailed adult situations (In other words, its Infected/Survivor SEX. Don't read it if you don't like it!)
Interlude
Weary and hurt, he drags himself onto the small shredded bed, wrapping himself around the only remainder of his mate he has left. Scott, the Hunter, lets out a soft broken sound. He is not himself anymore, all strength gone from formerly strong limbs, all hope gone from a normally soaring spirit.
Hurt, hurt...so hurt...
He has no other comprehension for the mix of emotions he's feeling. He doesn't know how long he's been tortured by the human male with the cold eyes. But its been a long time. Exhausting tests that put him far beyond his limits, limits that...that She had known so well. She would push him just past and then stop. And then give him the soft lip-touches to his face, letting him know that all was well.
Need Her...
A broken sob rips through him and he curls up tighter, burying his scarred face against the fabric of Her coatlab. What did he do? He can't remember anymore. He knows he hurt Her. Cold-Eyes had managed to get across what had been done. He had...he had killed Her. His claws rip down his chest, where the pain starts from and spreads over his entire body like ice cold water and shattered bones.
He manages to roll to his knees, stabbing his fingers through his hair and throwing his head back, a long heartbroken shriek rising through him. Hot tears sting his wounded skin before he slams his fists into the ground hard. He braces an arm over his stomach, lurching oddly. Not over Her coat. He crawls away enough to throw up what little meat he had gotten down.
From up on his pedestal, Cold-Eyes watches, scribbling, ever-scribbling on his paper.
The Hunter can't eat. He can't sleep. He can't do anything without Her there. She had taken him all over this facility. Her scent lingers everywhere and the memories bring a new wave of pain over him. He drowns in the realization of what he is, that he can never take it back.
And even worse, he hasn't seen the Little One. He doesn't know anymore if he hurt her too. Shrieks roll through him, pained and cracking from the force of his emotions. Is she hurt? Dead? Worse?
He flings himself wildly, knocking over a crate and smashing it before collapsing. He hasn't eaten in so long...he's so weak.
His legs give out again and he's on his knees. He raises his face to the ceiling, to the sky beyond.
So many lost...bad male, bad, bad, bad...
Vaguely, he's aware of the memory of another redhaired female, so similiar and yet different from Her. Did he let her down too? Was he there when she needed him? And another little one. He hadn't done what he was supposed to. He hadn't been a good male, a good father. Pain rips through him and he tries to pull it out, tries to claw at his stomach even while the pain roots him to the ground.
Seven tranquilizer darts quiver in his back when he finally topples over.
A/N: Not really a chapter...but just a short interlude to give a glimpse of what poor Scott is feeling right now. At this point, he's been in Dr. Lancaster's custody for about three days.
By the way, someone finally guess what happened. More will be revealed in the next chapter.
I started tearing up writing this chapter...