Friendly Fire: Part 2

by Alicia McKenzie

 

 

The jeep wouldn't start. Someone's stray shot had hit it. Her own, most likely--a flagrant case of her mutant ability backfiring on her--and her fumbling attempts at repair had been totally ineffectual. She tried to start it again, but the engine sputtered briefly and died. Domino snarled a despairing curse, slamming a fist into the dashboard. First chance I get, I'm giving myself a crash course in automotive repair, I swear-- But that wasn't going to be any help at the moment. Her best plan for getting Cable out of here had just gone down the toilet.

"No luck?" Cable called weakly from where he sat, propped up against a nearby tree. She bent over the steering wheel for a moment, fighting for composure, and then got out of the jeep, walking numbly back over to him.

"No luck," she echoed in a neutral voice as she knelt beside him. Outwardly, she knew she was composed, but inside, she was torn between guilt and anger and fear and a dozen other emotions she couldn't put a name to at the moment.

"Ironic--don't you think?" he said, an obvious attempt at humor. "You--having no luck, I mean."

"Consider me doubled over with laughter." She switched on her flashlight to check his wounds. Both bullets had struck him, neither had exited. They'd gone right through his body armor as if he hadn't been wearing any. Me and my big guns. The bandages were already soaked through with blood, and he was clearly going into shock. My fault, she thought bleakly. If I hadn't been so trigger-happy--if I'd just waited, for just a moment--trusted in my luck to save me if it had been an enemy rather than shooting in haste and repenting at leisure--

Cable reached out, his hand closing around her wrist with surprising gentleness. "No," he said softly. "Not--your fault."

"Then whose fault is it?" she cried, and then slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with alarm. He gave her a ghost of a smile, shaking his head.

"There's--no one out there," he said, his words ever so slightly slurred. "Not close--at least." His eyes suddenly seemed more alert in his pallid face. "I was--serious. I sh-shouldn't have just--popped in on you like that. Stupid--of me. Thoughtless. Don't usually--make mistakes like that. Wasn't--thinking, I guess--"

She turned to get fresh bandages out of her pack. Though he was clearly trying to make her feel better, there was a grain of truth in what he'd said. But the logical part of her pointed out that it had been her choice to fire, to let instinct take over. She'd simply--reacted. I was the one who wasn't thinking, she admitted to herself with painful honesty. My mistake. And now someone else is paying the price again-- "How did you do it?" she asked, blinking furiously. "'Pop' in like that, I mean."

"T-Teleportation," he muttered. "Had to be--closer than I thought--to set off the charges. So I programmed a jump from there to--your position, using the tracker signal--"

"I figured it was teleportation of some sort," she said. She pulled the blood-sodden bandages away gently. He stiffened, but made no sound. Domino almost shivered as she saw how badly he was still bleeding. "I--I meant how," she continued, damning herself for the betraying stammer in her voice. "You said you programmed a jump? So this isn't some mutant ability you forgot to mention?"

"No," he whispered. "A computer--actually. But--I didn't get out of the base--quite in time. Shockwave--knocked out my internal modem, cut me off from Grey--from the computer. Otherwise--I could just 'pop' us out to the rendezvous." He gave her a weak smile. "Too--bad, huh?"

"If you've had this technology all along, why hasn't the Pack been using it?" she asked, seizing on the discussion as the best way to keep her mind off the situation. Even as she finished dressing his wounds, blood was already seeping right through the fresh bandages. "You have to admit," she said, trying to keep her voice level, "it would come in handy."

"Couldn't," he said, suddenly sounding strangely distant. "Didn't know--couldn't be sure--" He seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open, and his head started to sag to the side. Domino felt a stab of terror.

"Cable!" she said sharply, slapping his face lightly. "Nathan! Don't you dare pass out on me!" He didn't answer. "Nate!" she almost screamed, not caring if anyone was out there to hear her. This can't be happening, she thought wildly. Not again. Not someone else, at my hands--

He suddenly jerked, as if she'd slapped him again, this time with all her strength. "Don't--call me that," he muttered, his whole body tensing. As she watched, in the space of moments he seemed to shake off pain and shock alike. When he met her uncomprehending gaze, the look in his eyes was alert, almost feverishly so. "It's a stupid nickname," he said, enunciating his words very clearly. "And one day I'm going to break G.W.'s neck for starting it."

"Cable?" she asked faintly, not understanding what had just happened. He gave her a tight smile.

"Concentration can do marvelous things," he said, and stood up. Domino scrambled to her feet, half-expecting him to fall over on the spot, but he only swayed a little, and only for a moment before he seemed to regain his balance. "Have to get--going," he said, breathing heavily. "And shut the light--off. We don't want--to attract any more attention." She gaped at him, and with a sigh, he reached out and took the flashlight from her, shutting it off. "Wasting time," he growled shakily, and before she could say anything, turned and started slowly in the direction of the rendezvous.

And for a moment, as her eyes adjusted to the dark again, she could have sworn that she saw a faint, golden glow around him for a moment.

***

"So are you going to let me in on why you're still on your feet, or what?" Domino demanded. They'd been walking for hours, and he showed no signs of tiring. She'd persuaded him to stop twice, so that she could change his bandages. The bleeding hadn't stopped, or even slowed down particularly. He should be unconscious or worse, after losing that much blood. "Cable, talk to me."

"And say what?" he muttered. She picked up the pace for a moment, catching up to him, and scowled as she got a good look at his face. She wasn't sure if it was just the mooonlight--the sky had finally cleared--but he looked a lot paler than he had when they'd stopped an hour ago.

*I have to keep him focused,* she realized grimly. I don't know how the hell he's doing this, but it's the only way. I sure as hell can't carry him out of here, and there's no way I'm leaving him. If he could just keep this up until they got to the border of the Mandarin's territory, where she could find someplace safe to leave him while she got to the rendezvous and came back with the helicopter--but that was still a full day away, at least.

"Anything," she said softly. The situation might be impossible, but she wasn't going to let him see that she knew it. Of course, he's probably hearing you think this-- "Something about yourself," she continued quickly, to cover her sudden discomfort at the idea that he was hearing her thoughts, sensing how guilty she was feeling about what she'd done. A person's shame should be their own. "It doesn't have to be anything particularly earthshaking." Ordinarily, she wouldn't have tried to start a conversation while they were fleeing hostile territory, but according to Cable, they'd lost their last few pursuers a while back. She for one didn't believe that the Mandarin was going to give up that easily, but she trusted Cable when he said they weren't being followed.

He shook his head, looking half-amused, half-annoyed. "Oath--you're persistent. That a--genetic trait?"

"Fine," she said with a determined cheerfulness. "I'll ask you a question, you answer. What's your first language?"

He glanced down at her. She almost smiled at the surprise on his face. First time I've ever gotten that kind of reaction out of him.

"My--first language? What do--you mean?"

"Well, it's obviously not English. You have a strange accent--very faint, but noticeable. Your syntax is odd, sometimes, and you don't do idiom particularly well. Plus your curses are weird. Like what you just said--'oath'. What's that supposed to mean?"

He looked unsure of himself. "It's--hard to explain, Domino."

"Okay," she said doggedly, not ready to give up yet. If nagging him would keep him alert, she would nag most devotedly. "If that's too hard a question, I'll try again. Where did you grow up?"

Cable seemed to stumble over something. She reached out and steadied him, but he shook his head. "Fine--I'm fine," he said, sounding a little wild as he pulled away from her. "Could we--skip that one, too?"

Domino raised an eyebrow. Okay--childhood and family would seem to be off limits. Hell, I can respect that. Only then did she notice there was blood on her hands, from when she'd touched him. "I think we need to stop and change your bandages again," she said evenly.

He shook his head again. "I--can't," he said, breathing heavily. She scowled, but before he could say anything, he kept speaking. "I--feel like if I sit down again, I'm not--going to be able to get back up. Besides," he continued, giving her a shaky smile. "It--wouldn't help, you know."

Her eyes stung, but she rubbed at them swiftly. "Damn it," she muttered miserably. "God, Nathan, I'm--"

"Don't say it," he said softly, taking her arm and drawing her with him. "Let's--just keep going." They went on in silence for a while, until he spoke again, unexpectedly. "Ask me something--else," he offered awkwardly. "It'll keep my mind--off things."

"S-Sure," she said uncertainly. "Any family?"

"Not--anymore," he said almost wistfully.

"I'm sorry. I know how that feels."

"Suspected--that was the case. Do I--" He suddenly broke into a spasm of coughing. Her heart thudding sickly, she supported him until it passed. As soon as he could breathe again, he started forward stubbornly.. She followed, feeling utterly wretched and more helpless than she ever had in her life. "Do we--get to take turns?" he asked weakly.

She forced herself to smile, shaking her head. "Wouldn't be much point to that, would there? It's you I'm trying to keep alert--and my stories would probably have the opposite effect."

"I--somehow doubt that. But okay. Ask me--another one."

"All right," she said, struck by the sudden realization that he was curious about her, maybe as much as she was about him. I'll be damned--he never let on. But his choice not to push her for answers now, when she wouldn't in good conscience be able to refuse him, impressed her. "Any hobbies?" she asked lightly.

He seemed to consider the question for a moment. "I play poker," he said doubtfully.

"Damn, I'd hate to play poker with you," Domino said with a forced smile. Then something occurred to her. "Do you cheat?"

He gave her an indignant look. "Do I--cheat?" he asked, as if she'd just accused him of a heinous crime. She shrugged, giving him a smile that felt a little more genuine. "You--would be one to--talk, 'Lady Luck'."

"Maybe," she said with a shrug. "But the question stands. Even if you're not much of a telepath, like you say, I bet you can tell when someone's bluffing." She grinned at him, suddenly struck by an inspiration. "Maybe the two of us should give it a go, when we get back."

"Wh-when," he said softly, and a sudden chill raced through her as she realized that he was actually resigned to the idea of dying here.

"Yeah, when," she said determinedly. "Hell, I'd even be willing to make it strip poker. Then we'd both be--motivated to see how well our respective mutant abilities let us cheat."

He drew himself up as much as he could, as if trying to recover his dignity. "I do--not cheat," he said slowly, still looking terribly offended. "But I could--still beat you. With both hands tied behind my--" He trailed off, looking puzzled for a moment.

"Back?" she offered impudently. He glared at her, and her smile widened at the spark she saw in his eyes. "See what I mean about idiom?" she continued, deliberately needling him.

"Drop--dead."

I would, but you're taking a pretty good stab at that yourself, Nathan, she thought, feeling the smile fall right off her face as the self-loathing she'd almost managed to push to one side reached up to snare her again.

He seemed to sense her change of mood. "I play--chess, too," he volunteered.

"A strategy game," she said in a tone of mock irritation, recovering her composure a little. "Why am I not surprised? Anything else?"

"G.W. says I'm trying--to sample every kind of coffee in the world before I--" He trailed off, and Domino flinched.

"Really?" she asked with a forced chuckle. "You and your coffee. The first thing Bridge told me after the whole 'welcome to the Wild Pack' speech was not to speak to you in the morning until you've had your first cup of coffee. 'Not unless you like taking your life in your hands', he said." She paused, thoughtfully. "Actually, that brings up a whole new question."

"About--coffee?"

"No, about Bridge." She was silent for a moment, trying to think of how best to put this. "You--have a strange way of talking about him. It's always 'G.W. says' this or that. And you always use the word 'we' when you talk about the two of you. He, on the other hand, always says 'Cable and I'. You know how twins act, right? One dominant and the other submissive? You come across an awful lot like the submissive twin."

"I--beg your pardon?" He was actually bristling.

"Not in the strict sense of the word," she said quickly. "It's pretty clear who's got the final say on what missions we take, and G.W. always defers to you in the field. But when we're not in combat, it's like--oh, hell, how to say this without offending you? I get the sense that you depend on him more than he depends on you. Emotionally, I mean."

He was silent for a long moment. "Interesting--theory," he finally said, and the look in his eyes was curiously haunted. "Off the base in right field, but interesting." At the look she gave him, he shook his head. "Did it--again, didn't I?" he asked planitively. "Idiom. What's the--right way to say it?"

"It's two separate expressions," she said, smiling despite herself. "'Off base' and 'out in left field'. Both of them pretty much mean that I'm off my rocker, though." He gave her a bewildered look, and she sighed. "That I'm wrong. Look, Cable, I didn't mean to overstep myself. I don't have any business prying into your relationship with Bridge. You know," she continued, trying to lighten the atmosphere a little, "he will say absolutely nothing of substance about you to anyone else? Every time I've tried to pry a little information out of him, he shuts down." Cable was silent, and Domino sighed. "Yes, I know I'm a nosy bitch."

"Wasn't--going to say that."

"But you were thinking it."

"Thought I--was the t-telepath."

***

"I--like this place," Cable said softly. It was mid-morning, but a soft mist filled the forest. Domino raised an eyebrow. It was cold and damp--and he likes it. Why am I not surprised? "Reminds me of--a place I used to know," he continued. "I wish I could--" He trailed off, as if he'd lost his train of thought.

Domino shot a worried look at him. He had grown progressively more disassociated through the night. She'd coaxed him into stopping, just before dawn, so that she could change his bandages. She didn't know why she'd bothered, other than to avoid leaving a blood trail. If she'd done absolutely nothing to help him from the moment she'd shot him last night, the end result wouldn't have been much different.

He was, quietly but inevitably, bleeding to death. She wondered if it was sheer stubbornness that was keeping him going--or if he was already dead on his feet and just hadn't realized it yet.

"You're--being awfully quiet," he said, looking down at her. He gestured limply at their surroundings. "Don't you think--it's pretty?"

"I guess so," she said, wishing he would at least lean on her, instead of being so infuriatingly stubborn and self-reliant. But he kept his distance from her--not out of anger, she knew. Aloof to the last. Remind you of anyone, Domino?

"No--you don't," he corrected her. "You think--it's cold and damp. It is--but it's alive." She gave him a quizzical look, and he shrugged, making a weak back-and-forth gesture in the air between them. "Thoughts--like arrows--again."

She didn't pursue that subject. "Alive? I suppose I never thought of it that way," she allowed. He gave her a faint smile.

"Don't--humor me. It's--insulting."

"Well, pardon me, Cable," she said almost irritably, getting fed up by his matter-of-fact attitude. He has to know what kind of shape he's in--what, does he think it'll go away if he just ignores it? Stupid, stubborn, thick-headed, infuriating man--

"You're being--redundant."

She shot him a warning look. "Keep out of my head," she said defensively, although a small voice told her scathingly that if he wanted to use his telepathy to make her cluck like a chicken, she really didn't have a right to refuse, after what she'd done.

"I--wasn't in your head," he protested tiredly. "I--told you. You're--upset--thinking even louder than usual."

"Sorry." She glanced around at the forest, trying to look at it through his eyes. "I guess you're right," she said softly. "There is a lot of life, here. But I've been too busy in my short life to go around smelling the roses, Cable."

"You can't--see the forest for the trees," he said with a ghost of a chuckle. "See? I--can so 'do' idiom." He looked wistful. "We--had that one where I came from. A lot of--good sense for such an--old saying."

Where he came from? Domino shook her head. "I don't see what point there is in appreciating the scenery," she said, her voice more brittle than she'd intended. "Not with the kind of lives we lead. There are a lot more important things to worry about."

"Short-sighted," he said, sounding oddly disgusted. "You can't--be an island, Domino. You're--part of the world, no matter how isolated you--think you are."

"Why do I get the sense that we just moved from scenery to philosophy?" she asked ironically, although his mention of isolation had struck a peculiar chord in her.

"You call it--philosophy," he muttered. "I--think it's just a--different way of looking at things." He stopped for a moment, laying a hand against the tree next to him. "Like this tree," he said distantly. "It's been here for--years. Centuries. But it's--survived. It's grown--we could learn a lot from it."

"O-kay," she said quizzically. "Sounds a little too Zen for me." He gave her a mildly irritated look, but then his expression seemed to grow almost guilty.

"Shouldn't--criticize you. Not like I'm any better at being--part of the world," he admitted, dispiritedly. "But at least I--have an excuse."

"Oh?" she inquired, and took the opportunity to slide his arm around her shoulders. Without protest, he leaned on her as they continued. For the first time, she actually felt like she was doing something to help him. "And what would this marvelous excuse be?"

The look in his eyes became oddly guarded. "I--I don't make excuses," he said almost harshly, contradicting himself. She frowned, puzzled, but he continued before she could say anything. "What about you? Do you--have an excuse for shutting yourself away?"

She felt her mouth quirk upwards in a humorless smile. That had been a little too obvious an attempt to turn the tables on her, but she didn't call him on it. "I don't look at it that way," she said. "But it's easier to live in this 'wondrous' world if you keep everything at a distance, so nothing can hurt you." She heard the edge, the growing anger in her voice, and cursed herself for it. She didn't need to be loading Cable down with her problems, not under these circumstances. But he'd opened the can of worms, and the words had come out before she could stop them.. No one had asked her about things like this since--well, for a long time.

"Makes--sense, I know," he said softly, sounding sad. She looked up at him, startled by the real sorrow--for her?--that she saw in his eyes. "But it's--the easy way out. Don't be--a coward like me." Domino winced, but he continued. "And I never--said the world was wondrous. But it can--could be."

"Yeah, well, not everyone's as optimistic as you," she said in a subdued voice. Her eyes suddenly widened. Did I just call Cable an optimist? Someone pinch me.

He seemed to find it just as amusing. "Optimistic? That's a--new one."

***

Around sunset, Cable suddenly froze, looking around wildly. "There's--someone out there," he whispered, his eyes wide.

Making sure he was steady enough to stand on his own, Domino stepped away from him and brought her gun around, looking out warily at the forest. "Where?" she asked urgently.

"I--don't know--" He shook his head, a look of almost desperate concentration on his face. "I can't--no, why would he be--" He suddenly winced, covering his face with his hands. "Hurts--" he muttered. "Can't focus--"

"Who?" Domino asked urgently, shaking him gently. "Who is it? Nathan, snap out of it! Nathan!"

"Should--have felt him sooner," Cable said, letting his hands drop. Quite clearly, though, he wasn't seeing her. It was as if he was standing there alone. "Don't--understand why--"

"Nathan!" she snapped. Damn it, if I hadn't shot him I'd be tempted to try and smack some sense into him at this point! "Nathan, who is it?"

"Not--a threat," he said faintly, finally seeming to focus on her a least a little. "Not--" His eyes rolled up into his head and his knees buckled. Cursing, she tried to catch him before he could fall, but he was heavy enough that his weight bore them both to the ground.

"Nathan!" she said frantically, pushing herself up to a sitting position and turning him over gently. He stared up at the sky, a growing distance in his eyes. "Don't do this!" she begged him.

Whatever strange source of strength had been keeping him going, he'd clearly used it up. His pulse was weak and erratic, his breathing shallow and labored. Checking his wounds, she heard a moan of despair and realized that it had come from her lips. The bleeding was worse, much worse. Blood flowed freely, staining the ground beneath him, dying her hands bright red in moments.

"You--have to go," he managed as she bent over him, applying pressure to his wounds in a frantic attempt to stop the bleeding. Every bit of color was gone from his face, and for the first time since she'd met him, the walls in his eyes were gone as well. What she saw there pierced her heart like a lance of ice. Desperation and pain, but only on the surface. Beneath, an endless sorrow, heartbreak and desolation so profound that she felt as if she were drowning in it--and she was, it was pulling her beneath the surface like some dark, mournful sea of anguish--

"Nathan--" she breathed, one word of protest. She felt alarm--again, not her own--and suddenly the tide of emotions receded, leaving her shaking with reaction.

"Sorry--" he whispered faintly. "Go--the disk--"

"Fuck the disk!" she cried bitterly, not bothering to try and hold back her tears this time. Cold and colder, her own voice said mockingly. You had him figured out, huh? You knew nothing about him--and now you never will. "What the hell is on it, that you're willing to die for?"

"L-Lives. Redemption--maybe. Please, Dom--just go--"

A request, not an order. The first time she'd met him, she'd known that she was looking at a man whose pride matched her own. But here he was, asking her, pleading with her to go--and she couldn't say no. Even though she knew that if she left him to die, it would haunt her for the rest of her life.

She took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'll do it," she promised, fighting back her tears. "I swear."

"Thanks," he breathed, a faint smile on his lips.

"And then I'm coming back for you. Even if I have to fight my way through the Mandarin's whole army."

"I'll--be here."

***

The world was awash in red and gold light. Beautiful, but frightening, Cable thought dimly, remembering cities in flames--he flinched away from that imagery and the inevitable guilt that came with it.

But the memories came, nevertheless. Akkaba, Hilarion, Norodgo--all of them, all the ones with names and without. Forgotten, now. Ruins. Ashes. But in his mind, they still burned. He still heard the screaming, still felt the tearing shame, the sense of failure--he closed his eyes, not wanting to remember anymore. But when he did that, he could see the darkness waiting for him. And as much as he feared the fire, the void was worse.

Trembling, he opened his eyes, staring out at the forest that had blurred in his vision. Maybe it was just being stubborn, but he wasn't ready to go yet. Not that he loved his life all that much--it was feeling awfully cold and empty these days--but he wasn't ready to leave it. There was too much left to do.

I never said the world was wondrous. But it could be. Wishful thinking, or a different way of putting the oath that had brought him here, the oath that had kept him going when he'd lost everything else that ever meant anything to him? Why was it always words that haunted him? Fateful promises, rousing speeches--words, truth--faith, dreams--hard to tell the difference sometimes--I knew once--how did I forget?

"P-Professor," he whispered, but got no answer. Each word was an enormous effort, as if there was a huge weight on his chest. "P-Professor? Bodyslide--by--one--"

Nothing. "No--" he muttered, feeling defiance flicker feebly within him. "Not--yet. I won't--give up--" But the light was fading, leaving only the darkness. He reached down deep inside himself for the memory of strength, for the faces of his family and friends.

But they weren't there. He'd buried them too deep, beneath the layers and layers of defenses he'd constructed to shut away his past, to wall away the sorrow so that it didn't eat him alive. He was alone. The darkness would have him, unless he found something to hold onto. He cast around desperately for something, anything--

What came to mind was a pair of tear-filled, determined violet eyes. He clung to the memory like a lifeline as the darkness reached up and swallowed him.

***

The sun had set all the way by the time the man reached the clearing. He saw that she had concealed Cable as best she could, enough that a cursory examination would miss him, lying in the shadowy hollow between the protruding roots of one of the great trees, half-buried in leaves that would provide warmth as well as cover. Acknowledging the traces of his own style in hers with some pride, the man brushed the leaves away, checking Cable's pulse and wincing at the sight of all the blood.

"Much as I love you, Neena, you sure as hell blew it good this time," he growled, shaking his head. "And what am I supposed to do with you, Nate?" The question was phrased casually enough, but if anyone had been listening, they would have detected the real distress beneath the gruff tone. "I should go after her, make sure she makes it out okay, but I can't leave you here. You'd never make it, and she'd hate herself for the rest of her life if you died." He muttered a curse. "All of this because you went after that disk when no one else had the balls. Damn, Cable, you just aren't cut out for this hero shit."

The man was silent for a moment. "Doesn't give me much choice, does it?" he said quietly. "Won't say I didn't have my doubts at first--hell, I thought the girl had flipped her gourd, wanting to join up with you after all the stories I told her--but you and Bridge've been good for her, Nate. She's starting to let herself feel more, now, rather than thinking so damned much. And then there's the disk. Just when I think I've got you figured out, you go and pull something like this." The man chuckled wryly. "Crap. Nick finds out about this, he's never gonna let me live it down."

***

Bridge stood outside the door of a room in a small private hospital in Hong Kong. Inside, Domino sat beside Cable's bed, just as she had for every minute of the six hours since he'd come out of surgery. Even if Bridge had been angry with her--which he wasn't--there wouldn't have been much point in letting her know it. She was punishing herself quite sufficiently, from the looks of it. He didn't need Nathan's telepathy to see that. And Bridge knew exactly how she felt--he'd been in the same situation once, and it had hit him just as hard.

I'll let her brood for another half-hour, Bridge decided. Much more of this would be counterproductive, although he knew that she wasn't going to get over it until she was ready. From his own similar experience, he figured that would come when there wasn't a constant reminder staring her in the face. In other words, once Nathan was back to his usual grouchy, cryptic, irritating self, she should be able to shake it off. Thirty minutes, no more. Then I'm going to drag her out of there and force her to get some sleep. Even if I have to hit her over the head.

He sat down on a nearby chair, shaking his head. This was a close one, Nate. Close and strange--yet another mystery to add to the pile, I suppose. Domino had made it back to the rendezvous in twelve hours flat, which was rather incredible when he thought about it. No sooner had she handed over the disk than she'd all but bowled him over on her way into the cockpit of the helicopter. Bridge had given the disk to Grizzly and told him to start making his way out on foot. He'd known the disk would be safe. No army in its right mind messed with Theo when he was in a bad mood--and his mood upon hearing what had happened hadn't been good. Quite honestly, though, the disk hadn't been Bridge's priority at the moment. He'd been as frantic to get to Nathan as Domino had.

But they'd gotten only part of the way back to where she'd left him, well inside the Mandarin's territory, when someone on the ground had signaled them with a yellow-green flare that was the same type Hammer had made for this particular mission. They'd landed to find Cable, unconscious and apparently alone. Someone had to have helped him, obviously, but whoever it was had been long gone.

"G.W.?" a familiar voice asked. Bridge's head whipped around, his jaw nearly hitting the floor as he saw Nick Fury himself, out of uniform, standing at the end of the hall.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said sarcastically, to cover his surprise. "To what do we owe this honor, Colonel? Things in SHIELD gotten so bad that you don't trust your own couriers anymore? Had to come and pick up your merchandise in person?" He wasn't above tweaking Fury's nose. Not after the godawful mess Nick had gotten him and Nathan into. They'd been lucky to get out of it alive, and it had been directly responsible for them leaving SHIELD on such bad terms.

"Knock it off, Bridge," Fury growled as he joined him. "Cable's the one with the smart mouth, remember? You're supposed to be the level-headed one."

Bridge sighed. The why of any situation-- he thought ironically, knowing Nathan would collapse with laughter if he ever heard him using one of his odd little proverbs. "Here," he said, pulling the disk out of his pocket and handing it to Fury. "Hope it's useful."

"You know damned well what's on this disk," Fury said quietly. "It's gonna be a whole lot more than 'useful'." He glanced through the window. "How's he doing?"

Bridge smiled slightly at the concern Fury was so poorly masking. As much as Fury and Cable had always struck sparks, there'd always been a respect and an understanding between them that Bridge had often envied. "It was close--couple more hours getting him here and we would have lost him. But the doc says he'll be up and around in a week or so."

"Which means he'll be climbin' the walls by tommorow night," Fury said, not bothering to try and hide his relief. Bridge snorted.

"This from the man who told Nate to stay out of his jurisdiction or he'd shoot him himself?"

"Quit yankin' my chain, Bridge," Fury growled. "That was business. What did you expect me to say, with Gyrich--bless his sadistic little heart--standing right there?" Bridge shifted under Fury's baleful glare. "I'm not against taking out the garbage, but if the two of you're gonna play avenging angels, you should know better than to let me catch you at it!"

Bridge raised a defensive hand. "Sorry," he said, meaning it. He sighed, realizing for the first time just how tired he was. "I shouldn't be throwing the past in your face like that. It's just--"

"Forget it," Fury muttered, real regret in his voice. "Broke my heart to lose you two, G.W., 'specially when it was my own stupidity, backing you into a corner where you only had one way out. You were the best, you know--even if I wanted to strangle the pair of you half the time." Bridge chuckled wearily, and Fury gave him a half-smile. "More than that, you were friends. Still are, in my book."

"Hmmph," Bridge grunted, a little uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "How's Val?"

Fury looked amused. "Fine, fine. I'll tell her you asked." Bridge gave him a quick, imploring look, and Fury chuckled. "Just teasin', G.W." His expression grew thoughtful. "The rest of your team know that you and Cable paid the contract for this mission?"

"Nope. Not going to tell them, either." Bridge said, giving him a wry look. "We are supposed to be mercenaries, after all."

"Huh. Wouldn't hurt the pair of you to cop to having some human feelings, you know. I don't think your 'Wild Pack' would complain too much about personal agendas if they knew what this mission was really about." Fury was silent for a moment. "What about the girl?"

"The girl? Oh--Domino. What about her?" Bridge asked curiously.

"How's she coping?" Fury asked, in a voice that sounded a little too casual. Bridge raised an eyebrow.

"With having shot Nate? Okay, I think. A case of friendly fire's never easy, but she's pretty tough. I feel a little bad for her, though. I mean, she probably tried to apologize, and if I know Nate, I bet she got the blank stare and 'sorry has no meaning' treatment."

Fury snorted. "Poor kid." He gave Bridge an intent look. "Y'know, I just came into some information that might interest you. Seems there was someone else out there--someone with an interest in the disk AND the girl. Wouldn't be too surprised if it was him who helped Nate."

"Yeah? Who?"

Fury told him.

***

Domino jumped, startled, as she heard howls of laughter coming from outside in the hall. Is that Bridge? What could possibly be so funny?

After a while, the laughter died away, and feeling a little uneasy, she returned to her vigil. "I still can't believe you're going to be all right," she said quietly. "Or even that you're here at all, and not out there in that damned forest. I wish I knew who helped you. I'd like to thank them."

She wondered if he sensed her here, if he could feel how relieved she was. And how sorry. It had killed her to leave him, but she'd promised, and after what she'd done, she couldn't break her word. Part of her was glad that she hadn't, because Bridge had told her what was on the disk.

Names. The names of people who had 'disappeared', stolen by Hydra and AIM and half a dozen other organizations to serve as human fodder for experimentation. Names of the places where these secret bases were, and blueprints of their defenses, so that these places could be destroyed. By SHIELD, she figured. No one else had the neccessary resources.

"I wish you'd told me," she said softly, smoothing silver-streaked brown hair back from his forehead. "It would have helped me understand. But then again, you wouldn't want anyone to think that you actually had a heart somewhere in there, would you?" Bridge hadn't told her why the base had to be blown, only that it was as neccessary as getting the disk out. A mystery for another time, she supposed.

"I'm going to learn to be more careful," she said determinedly. "Something I have to do, I guess, if this is going to be my--career. I can't go around shooting my partners, after all." She gave a straightened laugh. "Partner. Four days ago, I never would have thought to call you that, you know?" Not a solo act, anymore. That frightened her, but it felt good, too. Too bad it had taken something like this to drive that realization home. Or had it been the shooting, after all? Maybe it had been what had happened between her and Cable--that last piece of the puzzle, the only one of the Pack she hadn't made a connection with yet. And they had definitely made a connection out there. Even if he woke up and went back to being his old guarded self--and I'd be willing to lay money that he does--she'd never be able to look at him the same way again. They'd shared too much--seen too deeply into each other's souls, if only briefly. She wondered if he'd learned as much about her as she had about him out in that forest.

Someone knocked--on the window? She rose from her chair, and went over curiously. The room was on the first floor, right beside a small garden. As she opened the window and looked out, she didn't see anyone.

"Hey, Neena."

She yelped, hitting her head on the top of the windowframe and then glaring at the grinning man who had just stepped out from behind a bush right beside the window. "You idiot!" she said in a furious whisper. "You scared the hell out of me!"

He kept grinning. "Quit yer' bellyachin' and get out here, girl." With a sigh, she climbed out the window, dropping lightly to the ground.

"What are you doing here, Logan?" she asked, hugging him tightly. "Not that I'm complaining--" Especially not after everything that had just happened. She was so glad he was here. Sometimes a girl just needed her surrogate father-figure, even when she knew he'd give her a good kick in the ass and tell her to smarten up and stop moping. Logan had little patience for self-flagellation.

"Oh, just checking up on my favorite student," he said, an odd gleam in his blue eyes. "Was in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by."

"I don't need you to check up on me, old man," she grumbled, getting into the spirit of the exchange. She didn't have this same easiness with the Pack yet, not even with Grizzly.

"That so?" he asked, lighting a cigar. "Nate might disagree with you, darlin'."

She stared at him, her eyes wide and her bantering reply forgotten. "It was you! Wasn't it?" She remembered what Cable had said, the presence he had sensed, that he'd claimed wasn't a threat, and felt like smacking herself in the head. I should have known, part of her groaned.

"You were always quick, Neena."

"But I thought the two of you hated each other! Why would you help him?"

Logan shrugged, his expression strangely awkward. "That disk the two of you liberated--it's gonna save a lot of lives, Neena."

"I know. Bridge told me."

"Yeah, well. Between that and the fact that I didn't want you blamin' yourself if he died, I figured it was worth the effort." He gave her a level look, as if daring her to question his reasoning. And flimsy reasoning it was, too--the disk would have gotten out safely no matter what he did, and he was always telling her she needed to toughen up and stop letting herself be ruled by her emotions.

She didn't call him on it--yet. "But--what were you doing there in the first place?" she asked suspiciously. "Were you really checking up on me? Keeping in mind that if you were, I'm going to have to kill you."

"Hah! All right, darlin', you caught me red-handed. I did want to make sure you were all right, but Nate's not the only one who's got a bone to pick with the Mandarin, y'know."

"No," she grumbled, disgruntled by Logan's admission that he'd followed her. I'm not a kid anymore--and I NEVER needed him to protect me. "I didn't know you had any past history with the Mandarin. All these secrets--"

"Get used to them," he advised her almost impudently. "This line of work, they're as common as flies on a dead horse."

"You always did have such a colorful way of putting things, Logan."

"And you're still as sharp-tongued as ever," he said, grinning again. "Don't ever lose that, kid."

She hugged him once more. "Go on, get out of here," she growled. "You don't want Bridge to see you."

"Or Nate to wake up, sense me out here, and go ballistic," Logan said ironically. Domino blinked at him, stunned.

"You knew?"

"About him being a telepath? Sure."

"So why the hell didn't you tell me?"

He snorted. "Not my place to be going around blurtin' out other people's secrets. Use your head for a minute, girl. Mercs are private people for the most part. Cable wouldn't last long in the business if he didn't keep his telepathy a secret."

"And that matters to you why?" Domino asked pointedly. "I always got the impression that you'd like to put him out of the business, if you catch my drift."

"Aw, hell, would you just drop it, girl?" Logan growled, beginning to look a little irritated. "Didn't come here to argue with you." He glanced at the window through narrowed eyes. "In any case, I really should be goin'. Wouldn't want Nate to wreck all the doc's work by feelin' obligated to pick a fight with me. Considerin' that he was on the losing end of that last tussle we had, he's probably itchin' for a rematch."

She shook her head. "I'm choking on the testosterone, here," she grumbled. "Before you go, give me a straight answer. Why did you save his life? And don't give me that crap about doing it for me or the disk, either. I don't buy it."

Logan shrugged, looking resigned. "Old friends, old enemies--not much of a difference between the two in our world, darlin'. And every once in a while, fate decides to be particularly twisted and hooks you up with someone who manages to be both." He patted her on the cheek, and she swiped at him half-heartedly. "Be good," he admonished her. "And do me a favor--don't tell Nate that it was me who helped him. He might get the wrong impression, and then life wouldn't be half as much fun."

"I won't," she promised. And she never did.

fin

 

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