The Hard Way: Part 1
by Perri Smith
Authors's Note:
This takes place after Wolverine 90 and X-Men: Prime, when X- Force is still in residence at the mansion and Wolverine is still skulking around outside, and before Siryn pulls her disappearing act. As I started this before Wolverine #91 and X-Force #44, et al, and don't feel like doing massive rewrites (ahem, additional massive rewrites), I hereby declare the formation of yet another Marvel Parallel Universe. Deal with it.
BTW, I want it stated for the record that the biggest crime in Alter-X was what they did to Wade a.k.a. Deadpool. Too gross and completely unfunny. This is my way of making it up to my favorite motor- mouthed merc, who bears no resemblance to Dead-Man Wade, except in his ability to commit bloody mayhem.
Delphi, Nyct and Rebound are my characters and may not be used without my permission. All other characters are property of Marvel Comics and used without their permission. Yeah, I know, double standard.... but trust me guys, I'm not worth suing.
Dedicated with love to David, who started it; Brett, who supplied it; Chris, who understood it; Diane, who cheerfully aided and abetted it; and Teller, who edited it. Thanks guys; I'm sure I'll find an appropriate way to pay you back.
"Through this world I
wandered so many times betrayed trying to find an honest word to
find the truth enslaved."
-- Sarah McLachlan, 'Possession'
Theresa Rourke Cassidy couldn't sleep.
"All the mutant powers runnin' around here, and we still canna find anyone t' cure insomnia," she grumbled quietly as she gave up and got out of bed, pulling on the shorts and cut-off T-shirt she had taken off three hours before.
She didn't miss the irony of the emblem on her shirt -- the seal of the Xavier School for Gifted Children. Once, she and her teammates had turned their backs on the school, choosing to follow another teacher. Now they were living on that school's grounds, and her own dad was headmaster of the current incarnation.
But although she didn't miss the irony, she didn't dwell on it either; she had long ago accepted that the universe had an sense of humor and usually let it go at that.
She quietly opened the door to her room, slipping down the hall without waking any of the small army that was currently sharing the mansion, stopping for a moment in the open door of the infirmary. Four bodies shared it, all more-or-less unconscious, two of them old enemies of the X-Men. Sabretooth, even catatonic, was under heavy restraints; she was grateful for that after the stories she'd heard of the last time he'd gotten loose.
On the bed next to him was a more familiar form. Cain Marko, the Juggernaut, the best friend of the man who'd raised her. She turned away from him, unable to deal with the conflicting emotions he and Tom always brought. She knew well enough what both of them were -- yet she loved her uncle.
Storm slept at the side of the third patient, slumped in her chair with her head laid against his still arm. Gambit was still in a coma; Storm rarely left his side anymore, as if she was afraid he'd slip away if she wasn't there. Terry didn't understand their relationship, but she respected it. And envied it.
She left the doorway as quietly as she'd come, bare feet moving soundlessly down the front staircase and into the rec room. She closed the door behind her and flipped on one of the lamps; its dim light cast a blend of light and shadow, making strange again the room that was fast becoming familiar.
It seemed odd to be the only one in the rec room, usually one of the noisiest places in the mansion. A few hours ago, she and her teammates had been in the middle of one of their rowdier games of pool, having more fun making and collecting on outrageous bets than actually playing the game. The noisy arguments had pulled even habitually withdrawn Cable into the game as a referee. The sight of him face-to-face with Boomer as the girl loudly contested one of his decisions had left most of the room in tears of laughter.
It had been one of the first times they'd been able to forget that this wasn't their home, that they didn't have a home anymore. She and Jimmy had gloated loudly when they'd emerged from the mini- tournament triumphant, rewarded with all the popcorn they could eat for the rest of the night.
Jimmy. She sighed heavily as he came to mind. He was becoming a complication, more than she could deal with. She needed him as a friend, valued him as a teammate, but he asked for too much that she couldn't give him. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do, but soon she wasn't going to have a choice.
She sighed again, walking over to the mini-bar in the corner and pulling open the refrigerator. Her hand paused as she reached in, hovering over the carton of beer someone had shoved in. It was tempting to grab one, to feel the cool bottle in her hand and use it to bring on sweet oblivion.
But she had already learned that did no good. She forced her hand to move past it, taking out a can of soda instead. She popped the tab and took a sip, shoving the door closed with her hip and wandering across the room to the windows.
She rested her forehead against the cool glass, staring out into the darkness. She had never liked the desert, or Murderworld, but she found herself missing both now. For all their starkness and bad associations, they had been home for a while.
Lost in her own thoughts, she almost missed the slight movement in the trees at the edge of the grounds. It startled her for a moment, but didn't scare her -- there were precious few things in the world that posed any threat to the mansion, especially with its current occupants. Besides, she had a good idea who was lurking out there.
"Talk about y'r outsiders," she said to herself, barely aware she spoke aloud. "He's been out there for two weeks, Storm said, and showin' no signs o' comin' in." She stared out the window, trying to spot him again, and came to a sudden decision. "Well, if he won't come in here, we'll bloody well have t' be goin' out t' him."
She started to walk out the side doors, then stopped and went back to the fridge, pulling out one of the beers she had refused herself. "Never met a man who didn't talk more over a friendly drink."
She opened the side door and slipped out into the night, walking across the lawn towards the trees. The grounds were silent, peaceful in the darkness.
"Pretty late for a walk, ain't it?"
She was expecting it, but Theresa jumped anyway, almost dropping the drinks she was carrying. "Dammit, Wolverine, ye scared the hell out o' me!"
"Sorry." He didn't sound very apologetic. His craggy face was strange in the half-light from the rec room door, barely human.
She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to slow her heart to something like a normal pace. "Dinna do that again, Logan. Especially not t' someone who's bringin' gifts." He raised an eyebrow at her, suddenly becoming all too human. She tossed the bottle of beer at him and he caught it easily. "I would have brought a bottle opener, but I thought y'could supply y'r own."
"Thanks." A single claw snicked out from the back of his hand. With one quick flick he flipped the top off, retracting the claw and downing half the bottle in one gulp.
Theresa took a more leisurely sip from her own can before answering his earlier question. "I couldn't sleep; thought misery might love company."
He surprised her with a quick bark of laughter. "Misery, eh? Cheers, then." He toasted her before gulping most of the rest.
"Slainte." She took a pull on her own drink. "It's quiet out here. A different quiet than in the desert."
"It's late; most people are asleep. Like you oughta be."
She raised an amused eyebrow at him, mirroring his earlier gesture. "Are ye m'dad, now?" He almost smiled, nursing the last few inches of beer. "Ye know, ye could go in an' get another one," she informed him, not expecting it to do any good.
The reluctant smile faded fast. "Rather stay out here, Irish."
She huffed into her soda. "Typical pigheaded male."
He laughed again, a low, rough sound that was a little rusty from disuse. She hid her smile behind the can, quietly pleased with herself.
The laugh cut off abruptly as he lifted his head. All traces of humor were gone -- he was suddenly a little less human again. She shivered. "What is it?"
He shushed her with a brusque gesture. "Somethin's out there."
If Cable's training had accomplished anything, it had taught Siryn when to keep still and let the experts work. As Wolverine started moving towards whatever it was he had seen? smelled? sensed? she shadowed him, half-empty can clutched forgotten in her hand.
He stopped a few feet from the treeline, holding up a hand to stop Siryn. "Six o' them," he whispered. "Dead ahead, tryin' not t'be noticed. Stay here . . . you hear me give the signal, fire up those pipes o' yours, an' back me up. Might wanna let the others hear ya while you're at it."
She nodded in agreement. He turned away and vanished into the trees before she thought to ask him what the signal was. *He's not known for subtlety any more than X-Force is,* she told herself. *I dinna think ye'll miss the signal.*
Less than a minute later, all hell broke loose. "Damn, I hate it when I'm right!" Her voice broke the night in a shrill pitch that was octaves past high C. She let it carry her into the air and into the fight.
Wolverine had four of them occupied trying to avoid his claws and each other. She drove down on a fifth as he brought a gun up to bear on Wolverine. He ate dirt under her weight but shook her off, bouncing back to his feet before she made it back to hers. She had only a second to remember Domino's lectures on overenthusiasm in battle situations before her large adversary returned the attack.
He was good -- very good, for all that she had no clue who the devil he was. She avoided his first swing and barely ducked the second, pitching her voice to slam him back. It worked, sending him flying into a tree. But he bounced off it as he had bounced off the ground and came back at her. This time she didn't get out of the way fast enough.
The kick caught her in the head, the shock doing more damage than the blow. The trees swam around her and she felt herself hit the ground. From far away, she heard Wolverine bellow and someone scream. Then the lights went out.