CLIW

Return (Re-boot) | 1x1 |

Mattie heard screaming that sounded far away, or like she was listening from underwater. She didn't react, didn't move, didn't even process the fact that it was screaming––let alone Nick screaming. There were voices, voices but no discernible words. It sounded as if someone was talking to her, or perhaps about her, but all she could pick out was her own name among the echoes and garbled broken-sounding English.

After that, she sank into brief nothingness: no sound, no thought, only a faint cold feeling on her forehead. Eventually a fully-formed thought broke through: Where in the shitting hell am I?

It triggered her eyes to open fast and wide; an initial blur sharpened into surroundings. A room. A bed. Nick in one, and, right in front of her––youch! It really was that bastard Jacob! Up shot her heartrate again. In the blink of an eye she'd heaved up into a sitting position. He was holding them prisoner for sure. Or he'd brainwashed Nick. No, he'd most definitely brainwashed Nick. Why else would they have been staying together?

Of course, Mattie had chosen the wrong time to wake up. So she said nothing, did nothing, but glanced toward the window. That would do. In time.

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Glancing back, Mattie saw Nick swooping higher and higher with powerful wingbeats. She tried to fly faster, but could only go so far before her wings protested by sending needles of pain through the muscles that connected them to her body. Adrenaline heightened that threshold but not enough: it wasn't long before he'd caught up, and grabbing at her, smothering her with his wings in spite of her cries...

They were plummeting, just like when Jacob plucked her out of the sky. This mental comparison increased both the volume and frequency of Mattie's screaming, as well as intensifying her struggling. But with no drag and Nick's weight making them both, once again, gravity prone, the fighting was useless. Just after one more time yelling her throat raw, they hit the ground––Nick first, and then herself.

Although she allowed herself to be extricated from Nick's painful grasp on her, her nostrils filled with a scent that was familiar, and not in a comforting way. It was in a way that made her already-racing heart thud away as if her pulse was imitating that of a hummingbird's. What was it? Who was it?

Slowly, propping herself on her elbows so as not to get up too quickly, Mattie looked up from the bloodied asphalt. Her forearms were scraped up from landing. Her bad wing felt like it was on fire right now, and every time she inhaled it got worse.

This isn't possible.

She unfocused her gaze, refocused it, stared in horrified disbelief as Jacob––yes, Jacob––approached her. She spat a gob of bloody spit on the ground and huffed as she heaved herself into a low, awkward crouch. Out came her teeth again, their sharp points making a clear visual warning for the man not to get closer (not that anyone listened to cues Mattie gave, whether physical or verbal). "G-get away. Get away from me!" Her voice was scratchy. The words blurred together. Her stupid head played the scene over and over again: one moment airborne, the next terminal velocity. Claws ripping up delicate muscle fibers. Cold, dark water plunging over her face, and into her eyes––her mouth––her lungs!

Whether it was a cause of physical injury or emotional response was unclear. What was clear was that Mattie had passed out again.

Return (Re-boot) | 1x1 |

Mattie shrank back instinctively with a sharp gasp, throwing her arms up to shield her face, like a coward––but how could she help that when her ex/lover had just shot balls of fucking fire onto the ground? She was still snarling, but quivering now too. She didn't know of anything that she could do that was anything like that. And it was a shame; retrospectively she wished that she could defend herself from that sort of attack.

After the initial moment of shock, she regained her motor abilities. First she turned tail and ran from Nick, and when she'd gained enough speed, she spread her own wings––notably less impressive than Nick's, but certainly functional––and took flight. She didn't know where she'd go or what she'd do. Right now the terror of seeing that fire had seared one thing into her mind, and it was to get the hell away.

Please let me remember my training.

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"And he still felt you up in the simulation!" hissed Mattie. "Or have you forgotten that? And have you forgotten that he tried to rip me apart while I was drowning in a cold-ass lake? Oh, but that doesn't matter now. Because he's your brother." She should have been afraid of that flash of red in his eyes, should have taken the appropriate course of action, but of course, she was too hotheaded. She shoved him back from her, figuring that if he wouldn't give her some space, she'd make him.

"I think I'm in greater danger with the likes of you in my life than not," she spat as an afterthought. "So take your noble fucking intentions and get out."

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She kicked the door down and stepped over it, stomping outside. One could probably see steam coming out of her ears if they looked hard enough. And she really, really did not like Nick following her so closely.

She turned on her heel and flashed a set of sharp teeth at him. "Back off, asshole! Stay in your lane! When you're at least five fucking feet behind me you can give me an explanation as to why Jacob's soooooo nice now." Needless to say, she was infuriated. Her assumption was that if that piece of shit could save anyone's life, it certainly wasn't intentional.

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She almost punched him in the face again. Almost. But somehow, some way, she restrained herself... for now. Instead she shouted, "Shit on a motherfucking shingle! You have not been here long enough to pull stupid-ass jokes like that on me!" Mattie was snarling. A lot.

"I need to get some air," she muttered angrily. She headed for the remains of the front door.

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Mattie was quiet through the whole thing, quietly taking this all in. She'd suspected that she and Nick weren't the only mutants; how could they be? In a lab of who-knows-what-size and a country full of fairly powerful governments, individuals and organizations, she'd simply always doubted that they were alone. The rest, although alarming, didn't get much of a rise out of her. After all, she'd known that something was up. Something was being hidden. And she knew that this was probably only the tip of the iceberg.

The last part, however, was very effective in at least changing her facial expression.

"What the fuck did you just say?!" she shrieked. "What––what––! Jacob's here?! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god––we––we have to stop at a gun shop, Nick." Her voice had gone high-pitched and was cracking from the sheer terror of it. "Who gives a fuck about the drugs or the subways? We have to get moving, get far, maybe flee the country, oh god you should have told me he was still after you..."

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After swallowing the too-large mouthful of burger, Mattie turned her head to look at Nick. Seeing him again made her heart skip beats and gave her butterflies, but thankfully, she didn't show either of these symptoms. Now that the emotional episode of yesterday was finished, she'd decided that they needed to talk. Just talk, she reminded herself. No punching or throwing things or demanding to know why he'd left. After all, she knew that now but just hadn't accepted it. There was a lot of information that was far more important.

"Mattie," he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep over." She didn't respond verbally to that. Instead, she took note of how hoarse Nick sounded. She hopped off the counter and opened the fridge, withdrawing a bottle of water. (She took off the cap and sniffed to make sure it wasn't alcohol.)

"Here. Take it," she told him, sliding it across the counter to him. She wasn't worried about seeming cold right now; after all being gone for three years was pretty cold of Nick. "I want you to give me some answers," she continued. "Like why you're really here. And where Jacob is, and whether that shitstorm is coming back to bite us in the ass, and––anything else." She crossed her arms.

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Mattie was out like a light in seconds; the exhaustion and alcohol had caught up to her. She hardly stirred through the night, surprisingly. She usually tossed and turned and woke up during the night a lot especially if she slept in a position that her body took even a slight problem to. Not this time. She slept like a rock until 7:30 in the morning, which was late for her.

As she opened her eyes slowly, she realized that her head was resting on something warm. Groaning, she sat upright and opened her eyes completely and started to yawn and–– holy shit! Mattie jumped up off the couch as if there was a rat. Nicholas?!

And then she remembered yesterday. Right. Embarrassed both to have forgotten and to have been so sappy as to cuddle up with him last night, she grabbed her leftover burgers and moved quietly into the kitchen. She sat on her counter and ate, chewing very slowly, distracted from the still-juicy flavor by her thoughts. What was she supposed to do now? What did he want now, after three years apart? Was there danger? She remembered last night.

Whatever comes next, we'll face it together.

He knew something she didn't.

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Mattie felt only half-aware of being picked up by Nick, but her foggy perception appreciated it because she wouldn't have to attempt to walk anywhere herself. He said something to her that she heard, but that didn't quite sink into her head. Part of her was replaying earlier, with him at the door, the yelling, the old neighbor's alarm.

It felt good to be on the couch and off her feet. She put her hands on Nick's chest and leaned on him again.