Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.
 

FIC: Written in the Stars (10/11) April 15th, 1912 -- Floodwaters

Expand Messages
  • Adrea1983@aol.com
    Disclaimers, etc. in first part. ~*~ X ~*~ He ll be fine. She could get on a boat, he could stay, and he ll be fine. He s not called the Iceman for nothing,
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 30, 2001
      Disclaimers, etc. in first part.


      ~*~ X ~*~


      He'll be fine. She could get on a boat, he could stay, and he'll be
      fine. He's not called the Iceman for nothing, you know.... Maybe if
      she kept repeating that to herself, it would make her feel less
      afraid. Bobby swore to his girl that he wouldn't truly leave her,
      that he'd be perfectly alright. When the ship sank, he'd just swim to
      her. The cold wouldn't do a thing to bother him.

      The words comforted her some, but not a whole lot. There was still
      the whole drowning issue that could do him in. Jean had been lowered
      away already in another boat, so Scott and Bobby stood next to each
      other once Jennifer was pulled away. It was pointless for her to
      stay, other than to stay with Bobby. But there was no way he would
      allow it. He'd sooner force her in there than let her stay on the
      ship. "I love you!" she yelled at him from her seat in the small
      boat. A far cry from the glorious ship they had been on.

      "I love you too." he told her back and blew a kiss to her. Even then,
      they were still acting all lovey-dovey towards each other like the
      young people they were.

      A woman nearby had the audacity to tell the crewmember to hold the
      boat while she went back to her room to get something. The officer
      had had enough and simply picked the woman up and placed her in the
      boat. "She's the last! Prepare to lower!"

      Scott felt himsef being pushed as someone rushed past him. A glance
      told him it was Thomas Andrews, demanding to know why the boats were
      being launched only half full.

      "Good, God..." Scott whispered, unable to believe it. And unable to
      believe that he hadn't noticed it himself.

      Someone else bumped into him. Things were getting too crowded near
      the edge for his tastes. He let the people past, then did a double
      take on who it was.

      The red clad form and the white haired form were unmistakable as the
      Maximoff twins. Pietro was getting his sister onto the same boat. He
      could hear the boy say, "I never thought I'd hear myself say this,
      but I wish things were moving slower."

      At least Jenn didn't seem to have a big problem with Wanda in the
      same boat, especially since they were sitting as far from each other
      as they could. "Hey, shades. Where's the other girl?"

      Scott glared at the kid. "Probably on the other side," he hoped
      silently. Truth was, he didn't know. She had disappeared with the
      others going after Marie. His mind wandered as the boat was filled
      and began it's slow decent into the ocean.

      "I don't care what you say, I'm getting off this bloody ship!"

      Well, well, well. Looks like all of the little Brotherhood band was
      crawling out of the ship. Only problem was, this certain member was
      desperate to get off the ship. Very desperate. As in holding loaded
      gun and threatening people with it desperate.

      The passengers and officers that could, held their hands up. Scott
      could see the guns the officers had, but Mortimer would be faster in
      pulling the trigger. However, Scott wasn't about to allow that to
      happen. Much less have him get on the same lifeboat as one of his
      friends.

      With his stern, leadership voice, Scott addressed the slimy toad. "If
      you want on one of these boats, you'll have to go through me."

      "Are you an idiot, Mortimer?" Pietro asked, shocking Scott with what
      he was doing. The speed demon moved closer to his companion. "There's
      no way you are getting on, just face it."

      "Don't test me, Pietro," the British man snarled.

      Another distress flare lit into the sky, distracting the small man.
      It was then that Pietro struck, zipping over to him and latching onto
      the gun. The men immediately began a tug of war with the weapon.
      Scott held his hand up to his glasses to fire, but the way the two
      were dancing around, he couldn't get a clear shot.

      Other men nearby helped Pietro in trying to subdue Mortimer, who was
      shouting obscenities at all of them. But before they could wrestle it
      away, a single shot rang out into the night, frightening the nearby
      people and making them scream.

      A sharp pain ran through shot's left leg unlike anything he had felt
      before. He took a step back to view his leg, to find out what was
      wrong. The knee gave way and Scott could feel himself falling. He
      knew what was to come, the incredible pain of falling into the
      freezing water below.

      Time slowed down for him as the deck came into view, the startled
      faces, Bobby yelling and reaching for him even though he was far too
      late. At least Mortimer had been stopped, though he couldn't stop
      thinking about the promise he broke to both Charles and Jean.

      That was his last thought as his body impacted with something soft
      and hard at the same time.


      ~*~ X ~*~


      None of them could feel their bodies after the long trek came to an
      end once they got out of the water. Now they could concentrate on
      warming up and getting higher before where they were flooded.

      Things were pretty easy going considering the numb limbs they had to
      work with. That was, until they reached a crowd of third class
      passengers, none of which appeared to be moving. Everyone was talking
      at once, most of which demanding some gate to be opened.

      "Everyone, it isn't time to go up to the boats yet," a steward was
      announcing from the other side of the gate. "Please stay calm!"

      Logan let out a murderous chuckle. The ship was sinking, they were
      locked behind bars, what was there to be calm about?

      "And gentlemen, please allow the women and children up to the front!"
      the annoying steward turned his attention to someone else. "Go and
      get some help."

      Not caring about who got in his way, Logan pushed people to either
      side, squeezing his way up the stairwell with Marie clinging tightly
      to the back of his soaked coat. Many people let out a stream of
      curses and pushed him roughly back, but he gave them a growl and a
      murderous glare, so that shut them up. "Open the damn gates!" he
      yelled once only a few steps from his goal.

      "Bring forward the women!" God, they sounded like hungry savages
      wanting a good piece of meat to fuck. "Unlock the gates."

      Logan felt a new rush of adrenaline at those words. The gates
      unlocked and people began to stampede up the stairs. "No! Women only,
      damn you! Get back!" Only a couple of people escaped before the
      people were pushed back by force and the gates locked shut once again.

      The people still tried to persuade the steward to reopen the gate.
      But Logan knew there was no chance of that happening without force.
      Logan pulled the few passengers in front of him back behind him and
      Marie. He gave the man standing in front of him the most savage glare
      he could and growled at him amidst the yelling patrons, "Open the
      fuckin' gate!"

      The steward paled and stepped back in fear, holding a gun in his
      shaking hands. Too bad the little fucker didn't realize he had failed
      to lock the ammo in place, the gun was useless and Logan was tired of
      asking. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and he didn't
      care who saw. His claws popped out with a *choock* and they tore
      through the pathetic excuse for a gate like a hot knife through
      butter.

      With no lock to keep it closed, there was no way they could keep the
      people contained below. He pressed forward, punching the steward
      right in the face, knocking him out flat. Latching onto Marie's hand,
      they were the first two to begin running for higher decks.

      The ship had a far more noticeable slant, which made Logan very
      worried. How much time had passed? Was it too late to get to a boat?

      He wouldn't think that -- *refused* to think that. But, face it, he
      wasn't one for happy thoughts in dire times. More like dreary
      thoughts.

      Using the Second Class Stairs, they took them all the way to the Boat
      Deck. "There are still boats!" Marie cried with joy, apparently
      having had some of the same thoughts.

      "Then lets get you on one," he said as he began to lead her towards
      the bow.

      "Whoa, hold it, Mister." She pulled him to a stop. "I'm not getting
      on one of those unless you can too--AH! Logan!"

      Quite frankly, Logan didn't want to hear it. He picked her up and
      tossed her over his shoulder and carried her down to the boats.

      "Put me down! Logan, put me down!" she screeched and kicked at him.

      "Shut up, Marie!"

      Oh, fuck. She started to cry after he yelled at her. Fuck, fuck,
      fuck. Gently, so as not to hurt her more, he set her down in front of
      him and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry,
      darlin', I'm sorry..."

      She held onto him so tightly as she sobbed, that it was hard to
      believe it came from such a small form. "D-don't l-l-leave me, L-
      ogan," she managed as her body trembled.

      "Fuck, Marie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you..."

      At that moment, he wasn't sure what he wanted more. To get Marie to
      safety, or to shut that damn band playing that far too cheerful song
      up by snapping their instruments and throwing them to the sea.

      Logan continued to soothe Marie until she stopped crying. Right about
      the time that shots rang out nearby. Panic was starting to take hold.
      It wouldn't be long before everything fell apart once people resorted
      to violence. Those were just warning shots that time, but the next
      time, it might be aimed at the increasing crowds around the boats
      that were left.

      They had to find a way to get them both off the ship, and fast.
      Before Logan decided to hell with Marie's pleadings and place her on
      a boat without him. True, she would hate him for the rest of her
      life. But at least she'd have a life to hate him by. Jean and Ororo
      at least would help her cope, and help her go on.

      Every second that past doubled the amount of fear in everyone. As
      Logan looked past the hoards of screaming, desperate people, he could
      see that the Forward Castle was already completely immersed in water.
      It was sinking faster than he had originally thought.

      Tugging lightly on her arm, he got Marie to follow him closer to the
      panicking crowds and awaiting salvation for her.


      ~*~ X ~*~


      Oh, God... she hated blood... it made her sick. Wishing Jean were
      there wasn't going to help Scott any. He was still bleeding bad, and
      most of the women weren't willing to lend any help by way of clothing
      to stop the bleeding. Jenn had run out of skirt lining for bandages
      and Wanda had given up her heavy coat to keep him warm.

      The bullet must have gotten a major blood line or artery or something
      in Scott's leg. Although she was best friends with Hank and spent a
      lot of time around him, she still knew next to didly-squat about what
      to do in a situation like this. If it was a vein or artery, it wasn't
      going to stop bleeding until the hole was repaired or plugged.

      "Ick... ick... ick... ick..." she chanted as she removed the bandages
      and stuck a finger through the hole that it was bleeding out of the
      most. It was an entry-exit wound, but one side was worse than the
      other. She felt blindly with her finger to try and find where the
      hole was in whatever was causing the bleeding. Her efforts were
      hopeless as she couldn't feel a thing that she could understand, and
      keeping her finger in would simply make him bleed internally which
      was a worse thing than bleeding out.

      Removing her finger, Wanda began tearing at her own skirt lining to
      use. "Thanks..." Jenn said, still unsure why this woman was helping.
      After all, she was one of the bad guys, right? Wouldn't she rather
      Scott died?

      "Me and my brother aren't exactly what you think," the young woman
      said. "We don't kill."

      "Only kidnap?" Jenn replied a bit more harshly than intended.

      "We were told that it was only for a diversion, and that we didn't
      have to harm you two in any way. So we agreed and did it."

      "But your brother had other intentions."

      Wanda smiled and shook her head. "My brother was having fun. He never
      would have forced either of you to do anything you didn't want to.
      And if you were paying attention, he stopped Mortimer from killing
      anyone."

      Jenn's hazel eyes cast sadly upon Scott's still and pale form. "That
      remains to be seen..."


      ~*~ X ~*~


      For the hundreth time, Amy ran through her mind the events which led
      to what happened. Logan had opened the gate with his claws, people
      had pushed through like a fuckin' stampede. She was pulled back while
      Remy was pushed forward, and before she could get near the gates they
      had found some rope to tie it back shut with.

      Remy had continued to be pushed forward by the mob and hadn't come
      back. Searching for another way up had only led to more locked gates
      and angry mobs. All the begging, pleading, threatening wasn't getting
      the gates opened any faster.

      Now she was sandwiched between the mob in a stairwell. Unable to
      reach the gates, and unable to reach the corridor. Completely stuck
      until something happened one way or the other.

      And the screaming she heard far behind her that was coming closer
      didn't help to calm her nerves any. She knew if people were screaming
      than water was coming. And water was something she wasn't very fond
      of at the moment, especially freezing cold water.

      "You can't leave us here to die!" a woman yelled up ahead. The
      vocalizations of the people were getting louder and more desperate,
      following by a long stream of curses from everyone present to have
      known what just happened.

      The people ahead of her pushed onward as the people at the gates
      fought with them. Shit... there was water coming and they had been
      abandoned by the crew to die. The ship was sinking faster and the
      people were panicking more. At the rate they were, the flimsy gate
      should be ripped from its snug holes in the walls in no time... and
      that was being optimistic.

      "Ev'rybody stand back!" someone up ahead yelled at the top of his
      lungs.

      But his shout was lost in the screams of the people at the bottom,
      who the water had just reached. It was surging up fast on them and
      Amy was pushed so hard against the person in front of her that it was
      difficult to breathe. They would all be crushed to death sooner than
      drown at this rate. Which in her mind wasn't that bad a thing.

      "Mon Dieu, pardonnez-moi..."

      A loud and forceful explosion propelled them all back into a heap in
      the corridor. Cold water stung at her skin just as the smoke stung at
      her eyes. She coughed and realized that her glasses had been knocked
      off. Not like she needed them to see, but to hide her eyes. No matter
      now, she had to get up before she was trampled.

      The sounds of creaking filled her heightened senses. A different kind
      of creaking that she ship was making. This creak was the sound of a
      far more dangerous creak. As soon as she got to her feet, there was
      another explosion sound, followed by the sound of a lot of fast
      rushing water.

      In an instant they were met by it, a good deal of the people were
      swept away in the current, but Amy latched herself onto the wall of
      the stairwell and refused to budge even as the water tried its
      damnedest to rip her from it.

      People screamed and rushed up the rest of the stairs, or swam
      futilely against the current. But she couldn't dare let herself move
      just yet, not until the water slowed down. Her iron grip would falter
      if she did and she would be taken by the river.

      A large piece which must have been a door hit her, cutting deep into
      her. She cried out in pain and fear as her grip wasn't enough against
      the water and the blow of the debris. Her hands clawed at the wall as
      she began to travel down the corridor.

      But her trip was cut surprisingly short. A strong hand had latched
      onto hers from the stairwell and began to slowly drag her towards it.
      Another hand grabbed her other one and joined with the first to pull
      her to the safety of the stairs. Without much hesitation, she stepped
      over the few bodies that had caught the front of the blast, a twang
      of pity for the poor souls who didn't know any better than to have
      gotten away from the fucking gate.

      She turned to thank whoever had saved her but was stopped when
      someone wrapped their arms around her, lifted her up and spun her
      around. It was Remy! And not only that, but somehow he had dragged
      Bobby down to help him. She was about to thank them then, but once
      again was interrupted, this time by Remy's lips upon hers.

      She giggled amidst the kiss and returned his grip on him.

      "Uh, guys... sorry to break up the love-fest here, but the water's
      still rising fast..." Bobby said.

      Sometimes, she could just be so jealous of him. And this was one of
      those times. He was standing in ankle deep freezing water, and looked
      like he was just standing in ankle deep water at the beach. To him,
      it was just water. But even just water was enough to kill him.

      "Here," he said before they followed Remy. He handed her his jacket,
      for obvious reasons he didn't need it, for obvious reasons she did.

      "Thanks... for everything..." she said as she placed the jacket on
      her freezing body and followed Remy.


      ~*~ X ~*~


      First Officer Murdoch was busy loading people into a lifeboat. There
      wasn't a huge mob there like further down the ship. Very few people
      were at this one. He yelled at the top of his lungs for any women and
      children to please come to him and board the boat.

      Yet after a while there wasn't any more to be loaded, as Ismay
      informed him. They were all aft of them and couldn't hear him.
      Murdoch looked to the dozen or so men standing around and yelled
      out, "Anyone else, then!"

      The men immediately reacted and got onto the lifeboat. A few of them
      rejoiced with their loved ones that they thought they'd be parted
      from.

      Murdoch yelled it for a few minutes before it became clear no one
      else was going to board for a while. He then turned and raised his
      hands to begin commanding the lowering, when he saw Bruce Ismay
      sitting in the boat. It was not his place to do anything about it if
      the man had a strong desire to live, he had one himself, though he
      knew he wasn't getting off the ship alive.

      It was then that he noticed the bandage across Ismay's cheek.
      Certainly it hadn't been there before when Murdoch saw him last. For
      a brief moment he wondered what had happened. But he had a job to do.

      "Take them down," he ordered and continued to direct as the lifeboat
      was lowered to the ocean. For a brief moment, he could have sworn on
      his soon to be made grave, that Ismay's eyes had flashed yellow.


      ~*~ X ~*~


      They ran to the stern of the ship, pushing people out of their way if
      need be. But it was too late, the remaining boat was already filled
      and being lowered. Only ones left were the ones they were trying to
      get down from their position on the roofs.

      Logan shook his head as one of the collapsible ones was rocked off
      the edge. He knew the oars wouldn't hold, and they didn't. The boat
      snapped them like twigs as it fell upon them, one piece got a man in
      the back, sending him flying over the missing edge of the ship with a
      chilling scream.

      Marie flinched and pressed herself more tightly into his arms. There
      were so many people, and so much of her skin was exposed. The last
      thing she needed right now was to absorb someone else, someone who
      wasn't taking the situation nearly as calmly as her.

      As if she was taking it calmly. She was a moment away from having a
      breakdown. The only thing keeping her from doing so was that it
      wouldn't do anyone any good, least of all her and Logan. Really, it
      confused her to why they where there, waiting for a boat. All the
      officers were armed and would shoot any man who tried to board
      without permission. And since Logan wasn't a crewmember, there was no
      way they would allow him on.

      It would be a little while before they got it positioned and hooked
      up, ready to receive passengers. The couple moved out of the way,
      allowing the crew to do their jobs.

      Marie screamed as a door was flung open and Logan was hit hard, sent
      sprawling to the deck. She bent down to help him up, but was
      violently yanked away, pulled in through the door and to the Grand
      Staircase.

      "Looks like Gyrich was a bad choice for this," a voice she recognized
      as Creed's whispered dangerously close to her neck. "But I'll finish
      it off."

      A small cry escaped her as he yanked her again, pulling her down the
      stairs. Peeking over the sides, she saw that the Reception Area
      already held a bit of water in it. Bright turquoise water, clear as
      Carribean oceans.

      He led her down the stairs, only pausing when a feral roar was heard
      overhead. Logan was pissed as hell.

      Her feet splashed in the cold water that was steadily rising. Strange
      how not long before, she had had dinner in the area that Creed had
      pulled her into. No one was there. No witnesses to however he planned
      to try and kill her.

      Try being the main word. With Logan hot on their heels, it wasn't
      likely to happen. Not to her anyways. But Creed held a gun, no doubt.
      And he might be able to at least injure Logan before the wild man
      could reach them.

      Sure enough, a moment later Logan burst through the glass and wood
      doors. Marie felt herself being pressed against Creed, a gun held
      against her head as he held her hostage. "You take one more step
      towards us, AnimalMan, and you'll get to watch her brains blow out of
      her head."

      He gripped his arm tightly around Marie's neck, making it difficult
      for her to breathe. If he didn't shoot first, she would certainly die
      from lack of oxygen.

      Why did these sort of things happen to them? Why couldn't they just
      be left alone! Logan was right in believing God didn't quite like
      him. And her too, now it seemed. Logan growled in protest, unsure of
      what to do. He wanted to gut Creed, to make him pay for even thinking
      about harming Marie. But if he tried, she would die.

      And if he didn't do anything, she would die, he reminded himself. So
      really, what choice was there?

      Logan glared at Creed, and Creed glared right back. Two men who had
      no pity or remorse when it came to killing. No queasy stomachs or
      second thoughts. Both were versed well in their field. Only
      difference was style. Creed would go for the neater, less bloody
      approach with a gun, while Logan would be feral and rip the person to
      shreds. Both were deadly and affective.

      Question was: Who would win?

      The longer he waited, the harder it would be. Water was up to his
      knees now, which made it extremely difficult to move fast. Instead,
      he needed to prove to be some sort of other threat. A nearby table
      held the answer.

      Logan lunged for it and grabbed a knife, then quickly flung it at
      Creed, not intended for it to hit anywhere near him for fear of
      hitting Marie.

      The weapon did have it's desired affect though, Creed pointed his gun
      at Logan and shot him twice, right in the chest. He grunted as pain
      exploded in his chest, his body slumped over the table.

      Marie screamed his name and fought against her attacker. Her strength
      was weak and pitiful against the much stronger man. But she had a
      secret defense, as much as she didn't want to use it, it was the only
      way. Using her bare hands, she latched onto Creed's face with a death
      grip.

      Creed's jaw went slack and his eyes opened wide as the connection
      immediately opened up. His life, his energy, his mind poured into her
      fingertips. His veins bulged in his face, and she briefly wondered if
      she did the same. There was no pain for her, just a simple
      overwhelming rush of things. After a time, her mind screamed at her
      to let go, to which she obeyed. Creed's form fell from her fingers
      and splashed into the water.

      The man remained unconscious as he was emerged in water. He had still
      been alive when she let go, but a few moments of breathing water and
      unconsciously thrashing about, that ceased to be. As soon as Creed
      had begun to get pissy in her brain, he shut up. In fact... it was
      blank where he was a moment ago.

      Either that had something to do with the fact he wasn't a mutant, or
      that he was dead. More than likely the latter.

      Immediately pushing the questions that sprang to mind, and ignoring
      the cold biting all the way to her bones, Marie waded through to
      Logan. His blood stained the hand-sewn tablecloth and he didn't move.
      He couldn't be dead, not after all they'd been through.

      She shook his arm a little to see if it would jar a reaction out of
      him. Yet there was nothing. "Logan?" she said, but still
      nothing. "Logan, answer me, sugah..."

      "Okay... I'll answer... ow..."

      Marie couldn't help it, she really couldn't. She started to laugh. It
      was such an unmanly thing for Logan to say that it was funny to her.
      Maybe she had lost it, or gone into shock. Or both. Both could happen.

      "Logan, we have ta' get out of here. The tables are startin' ta'
      float."

      "Really? I thought it was just me." With a grunt of pain he stood up,
      the entire front of his lifebelt soaked with red.

      "Oh, Logan..." Marie's eyes brimmed with tears at seeing him like
      that.

      "I'll be fine, Marie. Just like I was numerous times before." He took
      her and led her back to the stairs and up them.


      ~*~ Adréa ~*~
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.