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Wirklich ein Engel(truly an Angel)
folder
X-men Comics › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,197
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-men Comics › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,197
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
Blood and Rain
*~*~*~DISCLAIMER~*~*~*~*
X-Men is the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. I don't own them. Slavery is wrong. It's something MoJo would do and I don't want to be like him. No sir. That...and I don't want Stan Lee sending Wolvie for my ass. The FDA also wishes me to stress that reading the following fiction may result in the contraction of Wagneritis, a disease that results in the compulsive hugging, squeezing and or glomping of all things blue and fuzzy. So vo do de o do and scoddy woddy do da day. Thank you and on with the fic!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She was running, her short, rust colored hair whipped by winds that heralded a storm. It had been a long day at the animal hospital. Three euthanasia’s and four cancer surgeries. She just wanted to get home. Her heavy boots thudded on the pavement as she wove between people who waited for the muni. She was almost there when the first drops of rain splattered against the sidewalk, pinging off trash cans and dampening her hair. Cars hissed by and the sound was comforting, like a long sigh. She could hear a group of teenagers shouting, probably playing hacky sack in the rain.
Then she wasn't so sure. The shouts sounded different than she was accustomed to. Concentrated. Harsh. She slowed her pace and wiped a bit of rain from her porcelain skinned cheek, the sleeve of her black hoody coming away wet. She was drawing nearer to the ally where a group of guys in their late teens like to play hacky-sack and smoke weed. What she heard turned her stomach.
"Who let you outta your cage, freak?!"
"Damn Muties."
"Gonna kill you freak!"
She clapped her hands over her mouth as she heard the dull thud of something heavy connecting with flesh, the cries, eloquent with pain. She leaned against the wet brick of an apartment building and closed her eyes. She felt like she was going to puke. She had to do something. But what? She couldn't fight off six rather large guys by herself. She was only a five foot, hundred and fifteen pound girl. She fisted her hands in her hair, eyes squeezed tight shut as she fought to think of something, anything.
Not knowing what else to do, she jammed her hand into her pocket and pulled out her cell-phone, dialing 911. There was no guarantee they'd help. San Francisco was more tolerant than most places, but it wasn't perfect, and no one, particularly mutants were really completely safe. She sighed as she hung up. They said they'd send someone, but whoever was in that ally was going to be dead by the time the cops arrived.
With a deep breath to steel herself she bounded around the corner, skidding to a halt at the sight that greeted her. There were six of them, the size of football players, a couple wielding impromptu weapons, a pipe or a wrench. Others merely kicked or punched the prone figure huddled on the ground where they surrounded him. She could hear him begging them to stop. She almost lost her nerve and ran. They wouldn't listen to her!
"You guys better beat it!" She shouted above their whoops and slurs. Above the pleading of the mutant they had decided to lynch. "Someone called the cops. They're on their way now!"
Approaching sirens confirmed her story and the gang scattered, darting out of the ally without a second glance at the diminutive redhead. She stood there a moment once they had gone, their cried echoing into the distance as the squad car passed the ally completely by. The mutant wasn't moving.
Tentatively she moved forward, kneeling haltingly beside him and swallowing her urge to run when she saw the spade tipped tail from the corner of her eye, the way his hands had too few digits, the blue fur...
She took another deep breath, closing her eyes and tilting her head up a bit, letting the falling rain cool her heated face. She exhaled, her breath rising ghostly blue as she leaned forward, gently turning him over, hands trembling when her eyes locked onto a pair that glowed faintly yellow in the dimming light.
"Bitte, nicht mehr.." He whispered, his mellow voice hoarse from begging. His blue furred skin was hot to the touch, he was burning up. Her fingers came away stained with blood. She had never met a mutant before, and despite his demonic appearance, he couldn't be like that Magneto on the news, or those guys wouldn't have been able to run away.
His three fingered hand shot up, gripping her wrist, and she had to fight hard to subliminate a scream. Until, at least, she saw the fear in those incandescent orbs. Then, her expression softened.
"Its okay." She whispered, brushing his blue-black hair back from his angular face. "C'mon. You can come home with me. I'll take care of you." She promised.
He stared at her in silence a moment and it seemed as though he hadn't understood her, but his grip loosened and he allowed her to help him to his strangely elongated two toed feet. His long coat was tattered and soaked with blood and rain, but she let him lean on her for support. He was fevered and shaking, barely able to stand upright, his tail flicking in agitation, but his grip was surprisingly gentle. He looked so tired. Thankfully her house wasn't too far and soon they were climbing the steps to her front door.
X-Men is the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. I don't own them. Slavery is wrong. It's something MoJo would do and I don't want to be like him. No sir. That...and I don't want Stan Lee sending Wolvie for my ass. The FDA also wishes me to stress that reading the following fiction may result in the contraction of Wagneritis, a disease that results in the compulsive hugging, squeezing and or glomping of all things blue and fuzzy. So vo do de o do and scoddy woddy do da day. Thank you and on with the fic!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She was running, her short, rust colored hair whipped by winds that heralded a storm. It had been a long day at the animal hospital. Three euthanasia’s and four cancer surgeries. She just wanted to get home. Her heavy boots thudded on the pavement as she wove between people who waited for the muni. She was almost there when the first drops of rain splattered against the sidewalk, pinging off trash cans and dampening her hair. Cars hissed by and the sound was comforting, like a long sigh. She could hear a group of teenagers shouting, probably playing hacky sack in the rain.
Then she wasn't so sure. The shouts sounded different than she was accustomed to. Concentrated. Harsh. She slowed her pace and wiped a bit of rain from her porcelain skinned cheek, the sleeve of her black hoody coming away wet. She was drawing nearer to the ally where a group of guys in their late teens like to play hacky-sack and smoke weed. What she heard turned her stomach.
"Who let you outta your cage, freak?!"
"Damn Muties."
"Gonna kill you freak!"
She clapped her hands over her mouth as she heard the dull thud of something heavy connecting with flesh, the cries, eloquent with pain. She leaned against the wet brick of an apartment building and closed her eyes. She felt like she was going to puke. She had to do something. But what? She couldn't fight off six rather large guys by herself. She was only a five foot, hundred and fifteen pound girl. She fisted her hands in her hair, eyes squeezed tight shut as she fought to think of something, anything.
Not knowing what else to do, she jammed her hand into her pocket and pulled out her cell-phone, dialing 911. There was no guarantee they'd help. San Francisco was more tolerant than most places, but it wasn't perfect, and no one, particularly mutants were really completely safe. She sighed as she hung up. They said they'd send someone, but whoever was in that ally was going to be dead by the time the cops arrived.
With a deep breath to steel herself she bounded around the corner, skidding to a halt at the sight that greeted her. There were six of them, the size of football players, a couple wielding impromptu weapons, a pipe or a wrench. Others merely kicked or punched the prone figure huddled on the ground where they surrounded him. She could hear him begging them to stop. She almost lost her nerve and ran. They wouldn't listen to her!
"You guys better beat it!" She shouted above their whoops and slurs. Above the pleading of the mutant they had decided to lynch. "Someone called the cops. They're on their way now!"
Approaching sirens confirmed her story and the gang scattered, darting out of the ally without a second glance at the diminutive redhead. She stood there a moment once they had gone, their cried echoing into the distance as the squad car passed the ally completely by. The mutant wasn't moving.
Tentatively she moved forward, kneeling haltingly beside him and swallowing her urge to run when she saw the spade tipped tail from the corner of her eye, the way his hands had too few digits, the blue fur...
She took another deep breath, closing her eyes and tilting her head up a bit, letting the falling rain cool her heated face. She exhaled, her breath rising ghostly blue as she leaned forward, gently turning him over, hands trembling when her eyes locked onto a pair that glowed faintly yellow in the dimming light.
"Bitte, nicht mehr.." He whispered, his mellow voice hoarse from begging. His blue furred skin was hot to the touch, he was burning up. Her fingers came away stained with blood. She had never met a mutant before, and despite his demonic appearance, he couldn't be like that Magneto on the news, or those guys wouldn't have been able to run away.
His three fingered hand shot up, gripping her wrist, and she had to fight hard to subliminate a scream. Until, at least, she saw the fear in those incandescent orbs. Then, her expression softened.
"Its okay." She whispered, brushing his blue-black hair back from his angular face. "C'mon. You can come home with me. I'll take care of you." She promised.
He stared at her in silence a moment and it seemed as though he hadn't understood her, but his grip loosened and he allowed her to help him to his strangely elongated two toed feet. His long coat was tattered and soaked with blood and rain, but she let him lean on her for support. He was fevered and shaking, barely able to stand upright, his tail flicking in agitation, but his grip was surprisingly gentle. He looked so tired. Thankfully her house wasn't too far and soon they were climbing the steps to her front door.