Standard disclaimers apply.
Just Lucky, I Guess 12/?
She opened her eyes and the room swam into focus. The sedative
was beginning to wear off, and except for a feeling of complete and utter
exhaustion she felt fine. The once debilitating headache was reduced to
only phantom traces of pressure, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Nathan, Betsy and Jean were huddled in a tight circle in
a far corner of the lab.They were obviously communicating psionically,
and the silence was deafening. They were in wordless debate over
something, and the shared look of disdain on Psylocke and Jean's faces
made it patently obvious that she wasn't the only woman Nate had pissed
off today. She smirked but kept quiet.
Hank bustled around her, checking the various monitoring
devices attached to regulate her body functions during the procedure.
Without warning, the room began to swim, and she felt a wave of nausea
sweep over her body. Suppressing the bile, she tried to call Hank to her
bedside but before the before the words came out she saw her reflection in
the concave mirror hanging over the stainless steel medical sink. She
gagged.
Multi-colored wires and electrodes were attached to her face, chest
and arms. Blackness sparkled around the edge of her vision, and all of the
darkness, the horror of her past rose up together to claim what
little peace she'd created for herself. Memories stirred by the
psi-surgery swam to the front of her mind, sparking an instinctive
reaction so immediate that her concious mind wasn't even aware of it.
Throat constricting and heart hammering within her chest, she bolted
upright, disrupting the monitor readings. Hank, seeing the readings spike,
spun around to check on her but instead of seeing his handsome visage
panic took over and her haunted memory supplied another face.
She ripped the wires off and leaped off the bed, drugs and
exhaustion only slightly hampering skills honed by years of battle. She
rushed at Hank, screaming obscenities, and leveled a high kick to his jaw.
His own reflexes made him jerk back just in time for the blow to
only glance off the side of his chin.
She leapt over the examing table, filled with red rage. "You
sonuvabitch! What're you doing to me *now*? I killed you once- I'll kill
you again if I have to!" She darted across the room and
grabbed a hideously sharp instrument from a nearby counter, slicing her
hand in the process. She didn't flinch, merely shifted hands and
sprang at Hank, who had fortunately recovered enough from the shock
to have moved a safe distance away from its gleaming blade.
Cable crossed the room in an instant, Betsy and Jean only slightly
behind him. 'You should have anticipated this- Idiot! Her damage
was so much more severe than mine, and the repairs shook up all kinds of
dark memories- Glad I was there to keep 'em from Jean.' He snorted
'Jean, right, keep them from Jean. I was supposed to protect her, dammit!
She *asked* me to, and I couldn't do it!' Guilt pricked at him, mingling
with fear. It hadn't been easy, reliving the darkness of her memories, but
he knew that his uneasiness was nothing next to the terror that she was
reliving now.
Domino spun around and narrowed her eyes at Hank. She shifted the
surgical knife so that she held it by her fingertips and threw it in one
fluid motion. Blade spinning, it sliced through the air in a direct line
to Hank's throat.
Her motions were so rapid that Hank barely had time to register
them, much less time to dart out of the way. His eyes flew open, but
before he had time to move away the knife froze in midair about a foot
away from his throat. He gasped once, his whole body sagging. 'Thank
You, sweet Lord,' he sent the quick thought upward.
Cable was breathing rapidly, holding a hand to his temple. 'Barely
made it,' he sighed in relief. 'If I hadn't known her so long, known that
when she grabbed that knife and wasn't close enough to slash, known
that...' He didn't want to think about what would have happened. He
knew from long experience just how good her aim was. He cursed the fac
that it had taken him so long to work up the telekinetic strength to
stop her, for the surgeries had weakened him as well. Thankfully, he'd
been quick enough to prevent any serious harm.
Pink and purple haloes of energy formed around the
respective heads of his companions as she released the knife, but as soon
as it left her fingers Domino froze. The disorienting jumble of memories
dispersed and the anger fled, leaving a strange clarity in their wake. She
lowered her hands and surveyed the room coolly. Seeing her transformation,
everyone was standing stock still, though still in defensive postures, she
noted. The monitors blared shrill klaxon screams, her makeshift bed was
overturned and Hank stood gasping in the corner, a bloodied surgical
instrument hanging in the air about a foot from his neck. Betsy and Jean
both wore expressions of concern, and Nate- hell, Nate was just staring
at her, for once his emotions painfully obvious for all to see.
She raised her hands, bewildered, and scowled "What? What do you
people want?" When noone answered, she shrugged. Amused at their stunned
expressions, she just glanced at her hand in annoyance and said "Why is my
flonquing hand bleeding, Nate?"
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Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the
world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
-John 14:27
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