Alaska to Canada, Friday Morning
It was cold, but the sky was clear. The trees were packed heavy with snow, the animals were hidden safely in their nests...
Cable
Cable ran.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been running. It was of no real importance. Not the acid souring in his limbs, not the cold hacking into his skin, not even the sting of the wounds that littered his upper torso. The only thing that was important sat quietly, almost preternaturally so, in the sling across his chest. The baby was alive, and to keep her that way was his first, and only priority.
It had been his first and only priority since he blew up Providence, and himself with it. Every minute of every day-- Sinister had been a setback, the island had been a setback, but he was here.
The baby giggled. The world exploded around him. He ran faster.
And then there was nowhere to run...
Deathstrike
"Hello, mutants."
The Reavers stood faceless, masked, but heavily armed. At their lead, the Lady Deathstrike, her talons extended. She swiped once, and Cable was disarmed, his gun falling to pieces on the heavy snow.
"No guns," she continued, the words spilling misty breath into the cold air, "You both die today."
Cable
No guns. He could do no guns.
Cable struck the nearest Reaver hard, the baby tied to his chest reaching as he expelled force in a way that had become entirely too familiar-- again-- over the past few days--
Deathstrike
Deathstrike was upon him like lightening, slicing neatly through the skin on Cable's cheek. Her body pressed upon his, clawing, silently, furiously at whatever skin it could reach.
Cable
He had to move. He had to win this fight, because he could tell easily that they had nothing good in mind for the--
Cable grabbed her arm, pulling harshly even as her other claw pulled shallow scratches across his side. He found her hair with both hands, next, smashing her violently into the thick ice-- he had to end this quickly, before this heavy exhaustion took him down with it.
Deathstrike
She was the Lady Deathstrike. The mutant fought bravely, but it wouldn't be enough. Upright within seconds, she ripped through the flesh above his hip, and before he could move, struck again, shoving the strong metal of her claws straight through his techno-organic wrist.
Cable
Cable fell.
His head impacted against the ice wall behind him. His arms came up to protect the baby, futilly, maybe, but he'd stand by her until the end--
Deathstrike
She hovered above him with a satisfied grin. The Reavers came to her side, looming over their enemy with heavy blades.
"No more guns," she repeated, as she watched the mutant cradle the child. "No more running. Time is up..."
Cable
He cast a look to his side. Options. He needed options.
But the only option that laid past this wall was a pit. A strategic hinderance of the worst kind. Scrambling up to his feet, that much he could do, clinging tightly to the baby even as he felt his blood seeping through-- how many wounds?
That is going to be a bitch to patch up.
Deathstrike
"The end is near, Cable."
Her claws dripped red. "You die now, along with the child." But her shoulders were hunched slightly, and her breathing came out-- a little less than steady. "You fought well, though. If you would like, I will make your deaths quick."
Cable
He felt-- maybe a little irrationally, but the rage was building. Annoyance, maybe, at questions even he couldn't get answered.
"What do you care about this, Deathstrike?" If Cable was supposed to die, anyway, he could probably nudge a few nuggets of information out of them-- "What do you care about the baby?"
Deathstrike
"The child's birth was foretold. Foretold by the Reverend William Stryker."
She could see the mutant making his mental connections behind that frustrated guise, but there was no point. She was Deathstrike; he would die. "William told me he would have need of me twice. Once while he was alive... and once after his death. He told me of this mutant antichrist. And he asked me to kill it."
She leveled one of her claws neatly under Cable's jaw, scant strips of an inch away-- his blood already coloured their tips, adding more with every little rivulet that ran down his face. The killing blow. "Now I fulfill my vow."
Cable
It definitely hurt like a bitch. But that wouldn't matter-- he peered over her shoulder.
Cable smirked.
"I guess he didn't mention to look behind you."
Deathstrike
Her eyes grew bigger with irritated confusion. "What--?"
The mutants descended upon her from out of nowhere-- and for once, Deathstrike was completely, utterly struck with surprise. Chiefly among them, she saw him: Logan, his eyes feral as always, his claws extended and ripping her Reavers to pieces. Different fight. No matter. Her fight.
"Kill them! KILL THEM ALL!"
Wolverine
He kinda didn't have the time to deal with her right now. Bigger fish in the sea. Frankly, the Reavers were mostly annoying cannon fodder, and he ripped through the first face he ran into. Too much damn cannon fodder; he couldn't see.
"X! HEPZIBAH! WARPATH! SOMEONE GET TO CABLE!"
Cable
Cable ran.
The baby cried. Loudly. Quiet, kid.
His feet skipped through the slippery snow, nearly knocking him off balance. That didn't matter, though-- every seeming trip was a potential advantage, and reacting instantly... It gave him just enough of an angle to pull his secondary gun and fire several bursts into the fray. Suppression for Reaver and X-Man alike. Call it his calling card.
Escaping two enemies for the price of one. Sometimes, this was as much luck as anything else. The enemy of my enemy might be my enemy, but they're one hell of a distraction.
Wolverine
"CABLE!" Dammit. The guy was moving too damn smooth--
Smooth enough that Wolverine didn't even realise Deathstrike was there until she'd blindsided him, ripping through his stomach with both claws extended. It healed fast, but not fast enough. He didn't have time for this fight.
"X!" He didn't need to cast an eye back to know his teammate was ready to play. The kid still had a score to settle with Deathstrike; she could handle it. "Knock yourself out."
He didn't stay behind to watch the kid rip Deathstrike's spine out. Yeah. Bigger fish.
He didn't even notice Warpath and Caliban breaking off until it was entirely too late.
Cable
He ran. And he ran. And he ran. This one better work.
The smirk coloured Cable's face the moment he saw the big, hulking shape up ahead. "Barely, but it's working," he whispered to the baby, putting the gun back where it belonged. At his side, not drawn.
Wolverine
With Cable's scent flaring heavily in his nose -- but no range of sight at all -- Wolverine leapt over the next damn snow bank. Range. "CABLE!"
There was something wrong about the scent, though. It was leading him back-- why the hell was it leading him back to where they'd just come from?
He got his answer the next split second, when the X-Jet soared straight over his head, inches away from his face, knocking him to the ground. Eating snow. What the-- Cable stole our goddamn jet!
He scrambled to his feet, watching the jet pull through the white atmosphere, and then far, far-- out of sight. His teeth gritted. "What's your game, Cable...?"
Cable
His head thunked back against the seat of the chair when the autopilot switched on. Wires still twitched from where he'd pulled them out-- if the X-Men found him now, it'd all be over.
He shifted his gaze, granting the baby a small, encouraging smile. "Almost there," he said, and his voice was hoarse with the knowledge of blood, pumping sluggishly through his wounds.
It was of no real importance.
Cable--
Cable runs.
(And baby makes two...)
( nfi, nfb due to distance, ooc welcome! i have icecream. also, relentlessly stolen from X-Men: Messiah CompleX #6-7 )
Cable
Cable ran.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been running. It was of no real importance. Not the acid souring in his limbs, not the cold hacking into his skin, not even the sting of the wounds that littered his upper torso. The only thing that was important sat quietly, almost preternaturally so, in the sling across his chest. The baby was alive, and to keep her that way was his first, and only priority.
It had been his first and only priority since he blew up Providence, and himself with it. Every minute of every day-- Sinister had been a setback, the island had been a setback, but he was here.
The baby giggled. The world exploded around him. He ran faster.
And then there was nowhere to run...
Deathstrike
"Hello, mutants."
The Reavers stood faceless, masked, but heavily armed. At their lead, the Lady Deathstrike, her talons extended. She swiped once, and Cable was disarmed, his gun falling to pieces on the heavy snow.
"No guns," she continued, the words spilling misty breath into the cold air, "You both die today."
Cable
No guns. He could do no guns.
Cable struck the nearest Reaver hard, the baby tied to his chest reaching as he expelled force in a way that had become entirely too familiar-- again-- over the past few days--
Deathstrike
Deathstrike was upon him like lightening, slicing neatly through the skin on Cable's cheek. Her body pressed upon his, clawing, silently, furiously at whatever skin it could reach.
Cable
He had to move. He had to win this fight, because he could tell easily that they had nothing good in mind for the--
Cable grabbed her arm, pulling harshly even as her other claw pulled shallow scratches across his side. He found her hair with both hands, next, smashing her violently into the thick ice-- he had to end this quickly, before this heavy exhaustion took him down with it.
Deathstrike
She was the Lady Deathstrike. The mutant fought bravely, but it wouldn't be enough. Upright within seconds, she ripped through the flesh above his hip, and before he could move, struck again, shoving the strong metal of her claws straight through his techno-organic wrist.
Cable
Cable fell.
His head impacted against the ice wall behind him. His arms came up to protect the baby, futilly, maybe, but he'd stand by her until the end--
Deathstrike
She hovered above him with a satisfied grin. The Reavers came to her side, looming over their enemy with heavy blades.
"No more guns," she repeated, as she watched the mutant cradle the child. "No more running. Time is up..."
Cable
He cast a look to his side. Options. He needed options.
But the only option that laid past this wall was a pit. A strategic hinderance of the worst kind. Scrambling up to his feet, that much he could do, clinging tightly to the baby even as he felt his blood seeping through-- how many wounds?
That is going to be a bitch to patch up.
Deathstrike
"The end is near, Cable."
Her claws dripped red. "You die now, along with the child." But her shoulders were hunched slightly, and her breathing came out-- a little less than steady. "You fought well, though. If you would like, I will make your deaths quick."
Cable
He felt-- maybe a little irrationally, but the rage was building. Annoyance, maybe, at questions even he couldn't get answered.
"What do you care about this, Deathstrike?" If Cable was supposed to die, anyway, he could probably nudge a few nuggets of information out of them-- "What do you care about the baby?"
Deathstrike
"The child's birth was foretold. Foretold by the Reverend William Stryker."
She could see the mutant making his mental connections behind that frustrated guise, but there was no point. She was Deathstrike; he would die. "William told me he would have need of me twice. Once while he was alive... and once after his death. He told me of this mutant antichrist. And he asked me to kill it."
She leveled one of her claws neatly under Cable's jaw, scant strips of an inch away-- his blood already coloured their tips, adding more with every little rivulet that ran down his face. The killing blow. "Now I fulfill my vow."
Cable
It definitely hurt like a bitch. But that wouldn't matter-- he peered over her shoulder.
Cable smirked.
"I guess he didn't mention to look behind you."
Deathstrike
Her eyes grew bigger with irritated confusion. "What--?"
The mutants descended upon her from out of nowhere-- and for once, Deathstrike was completely, utterly struck with surprise. Chiefly among them, she saw him: Logan, his eyes feral as always, his claws extended and ripping her Reavers to pieces. Different fight. No matter. Her fight.
"Kill them! KILL THEM ALL!"
Wolverine
He kinda didn't have the time to deal with her right now. Bigger fish in the sea. Frankly, the Reavers were mostly annoying cannon fodder, and he ripped through the first face he ran into. Too much damn cannon fodder; he couldn't see.
"X! HEPZIBAH! WARPATH! SOMEONE GET TO CABLE!"
Cable
Cable ran.
The baby cried. Loudly. Quiet, kid.
His feet skipped through the slippery snow, nearly knocking him off balance. That didn't matter, though-- every seeming trip was a potential advantage, and reacting instantly... It gave him just enough of an angle to pull his secondary gun and fire several bursts into the fray. Suppression for Reaver and X-Man alike. Call it his calling card.
Escaping two enemies for the price of one. Sometimes, this was as much luck as anything else. The enemy of my enemy might be my enemy, but they're one hell of a distraction.
Wolverine
"CABLE!" Dammit. The guy was moving too damn smooth--
Smooth enough that Wolverine didn't even realise Deathstrike was there until she'd blindsided him, ripping through his stomach with both claws extended. It healed fast, but not fast enough. He didn't have time for this fight.
"X!" He didn't need to cast an eye back to know his teammate was ready to play. The kid still had a score to settle with Deathstrike; she could handle it. "Knock yourself out."
He didn't stay behind to watch the kid rip Deathstrike's spine out. Yeah. Bigger fish.
He didn't even notice Warpath and Caliban breaking off until it was entirely too late.
Cable
He ran. And he ran. And he ran. This one better work.
The smirk coloured Cable's face the moment he saw the big, hulking shape up ahead. "Barely, but it's working," he whispered to the baby, putting the gun back where it belonged. At his side, not drawn.
Wolverine
With Cable's scent flaring heavily in his nose -- but no range of sight at all -- Wolverine leapt over the next damn snow bank. Range. "CABLE!"
There was something wrong about the scent, though. It was leading him back-- why the hell was it leading him back to where they'd just come from?
He got his answer the next split second, when the X-Jet soared straight over his head, inches away from his face, knocking him to the ground. Eating snow. What the-- Cable stole our goddamn jet!
He scrambled to his feet, watching the jet pull through the white atmosphere, and then far, far-- out of sight. His teeth gritted. "What's your game, Cable...?"
Cable
His head thunked back against the seat of the chair when the autopilot switched on. Wires still twitched from where he'd pulled them out-- if the X-Men found him now, it'd all be over.
He shifted his gaze, granting the baby a small, encouraging smile. "Almost there," he said, and his voice was hoarse with the knowledge of blood, pumping sluggishly through his wounds.
It was of no real importance.
Cable--
Cable runs.
(And baby makes two...)
( nfi, nfb due to distance, ooc welcome! i have icecream. also, relentlessly stolen from X-Men: Messiah CompleX #6-7 )