|Jamie Madrox (_multiplicity) wrote in utr_logs,|
@ 2008-02-04 20:10:00
|Entry tags:||apocalyptic plot, carrie kelley, death, edward wong hau pepelu tivrusky iv, emma frost, frank longbottom, james potter, jamie madrox, mia kent, pietro maximoff, rose frost, stacy warner|
who. A bunch of my kids. All narrative.
what. Surviving all the plots, wrapping up loose ends. If you want to find out who got hurt and how, you should read this.
where. All over the place
when. After Apoc is zapped out of here, exact time varies pup to pup
note. Sam did this first. Then I copied. Because it was a good idea.
note 2. It's long because I srsly can't shut the fuck up.
There was blood in his eyes but Jamie wasn't particularly concerned. He was exhausted and hurt, but he wasn't anywhere near dead. Jamie knew the body well enough. He'd made dupes take enough classes that he knew about as much as the average surgeon. So he knew that head wounds bled a lot, which probably meant that Jamie was fine. He figured he that that woozy feeling had more to do with exhaustion than anything else.
"Is it over yet?" He asked, voice pained. His hands were pressing what was left of his shirt to his forehead.
Things had grown eerily quiet and Jamie wasn't sure if they'd gotten Apocalypse this time or not. When Apoc hadn't been around causing chaos, the X-team had been dealing with clean up, trying to save people and the nearby city. They'd been in constant motion since they'd first rescued Remy. Jamie was fairly certain that if they hadn't won, he was going to collapse in spite of his best efforts.
"It's done," a voice said. Jamie turned his head and caught sight of Emma, whose white costume was now the color of ash spotted with streaks of blood. "Superman did it." She didn't look like herself, exhaustion written into the lines of her face. Her eyelids fluttered and she dropped. Jamie didn't see if someone caught her, as his attention was drawn elsewhere.
His dupes were mulling about, most of them in various states of wear. There were two, both close to one another, who were on the ground, groaning in pain. "Damn it," Jamie muttered as he got closer to them.
"Oh God." The color drained from his face. One dupe's legs were crushed. The other had a hole in his middle. One was clearly in shock and the other, staring up at Jamie, a dull light in his eyes. They were going to die soon, the blood loss alone was enough to do it. "Shit."
Jamie had absorbed dying dupes before. Always one at a time. It was always a horrible experience. Not only did he take their memories when he absorbed them, he took their pain. Absorbing a dying dupe felt like dying. He wouldn't have a scratch on him, but he'd experience that agony. Absorbing two... Jamie wasn't even sure he could survive that.
But he needed to do it. He could feel the eyes of his friends burning holes into his back. It surprised Jamie that no one had yelled at him for hesitating yet. It was cowardly to just stand around and let them die. He really didn't want to do this, but he had to. Pushing his fear aside as best he could, Jamie took a deep breath. "Alright." Jamie shut his eyes and reached out for all of his duplicates. Immediately, he was hit with a wave of nausea. His legs gave out underneath him and he landed hard on his back. Jamie groaned, almost whimpering as he curled up into the fetal position. His legs felt like they were on fire. His hands moved to his stomach, cupping a wound that wasn't there.
Someone screamed, "Jamie!" but he couldn't respond. He tried to work his mouth, but it wouldn't cooperate. The world around him started to fade. Wondering mildly about whether or not he'd just killed himself, Jamie gave into the black, taking solace in the fact that he wouldn't be able to feel while unconscious.
In the heart of London, Rose was digging through rubble. The flesh on her hands was torn and bloody, but with her powers, the wounds closed themselves mere moments after they appeared. It hurt badly, this sort of work, but Rose could push through it when there was someone who needed help. Just beside her was a man, trapped under rubble and brink, whimpering quietly.
A building had fallen and people were trapped everywhere. Early on, Rose had been able to sniff them out, but now, with all of the smoke and dust in the air, her nose was fairly useless. "Lift this with me and I think you'll be free," Rose said to a man. Together, they lifted a beam off of his leg.
"Help," Rose called to the girls, who came and pulled the man out as carefully as they could. His leg was a mangled mess of flesh and bone. That would need medical attention. Rose wondered if he'd ever be able to walk on it again.
She let the Stepfords help the man as best they could. There were paramedics roaming around, ready to bring people that had been dug out to the nearest triage. Rose waved one down and he came to fetch the man and tend to his leg as best he could.
Rose took a deep breath, watching the man be carted away. He waved at her before he went, shouting a weak thank you in her direction. Surprising how polite people where in the middle of chaos. Once he was out of sight, Rose looked down at her hands. They were bloody, red with her own blood and that of the people she'd helped.
Rose bent over, unable to stop herself from throwing up. Once she was done, she closed her eyes, unaware of the fact that she was hyperventilating. Rose was quickly shutting out the rest of the world. Her eyes were stuck on her hands and the blood. Underneath the smoky scent in the air was the smell of blood. A lot of blood. Bad memories assaulted Rose. She couldn't get away from them. Her body trembled.
Rose felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around. Sophie was staring at her with white eyes. The rest of the girls were behind her. "Relax," they said together. Rose was suddenly calm. Tears that had been falling stopped. "We should go home," they said. Rose nodded. Her senses were dulled. The blood was gone, or, at the very least, they'd blocked it from her vision.
They headed home together quietly. Rose was in a haze. Later on, she would only vaguely remember losing control of herself.
"They're fallin' back!" Frank shouted. He felt relieved. They'd been casting spells all day and night in order to keep the nutters in the institution. The irony of this situation was a bit lost on Frank. Maybe later, when he gave it some thought, he'd laugh at how fitting it was that he'd been sent to tend to the madhouse. Until then, he wouldn't feel anything but relief.
Considering how large Bedlam was, it'd been a hell of a job and every few hours a throng of people dressed in white gowns had broken through. Frank had had to knock a few out and fight some hand-to-hand. He'd ended up with a broken bone in his arm that he'd need to get healed later.
"Fuckin'," Frank grumbled. Moving his right arm too much sent a jolt of pain through his body. "I'd kill for a smoke." He checked over his shoulder, relieved that Alice hadn't heard that.
"You and me both," James Potter said, rubbing his eyes. There were dark circles around them. He felt like he hadn't slept in years. "Think it's over?"
"Hope so." There was a pause. Other wizards around them were patching up holes in the building and casting charms to put the residents of Bedlam to sleep or tickle them so they were incapacitated. "Y'did a good job, Potter." It was James who had organized the group and kept everyone going.
"Thanks." There was a moment's pause before he stood on some sturdy rubble and shouted to the group. "Oi. You're all brilliant. Think things are starting to settle down." The screams were dying down and the sound of buildings crumbling in the distance was stopping. "Once we've got everything under control and we get patched up, we're all hitting a pub. Drinks are on me." His eyes met Padfoot's for a moment, hoping that his friend - who was doing his best to stay sober - wouldn't be angered by this. They'd all had a hard few days. The least he could do was offer them a drink.
There was a vague black blur streaking through the streets. Over the past few days, Carrie hadn't really seen much of her family, but she could recognize one of them from the way they swung on their lines. "Hey Cass!" Carrie cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted as the former Batgirl zipped down an avenue, "When this is all over, you and me are doing something girly!"
There was no response; Carrie wasn't sure if this meant Cass had heard her and chose to ignore her or that Cass had been too far away to make sense of what she'd shouted. Either way, Carrie would be sure to pester Cassandra into going out with her and doing something fun once the city wasn't in shambles.
In spite of the fact that it seemed to fall apart all the damn time, Carrie loved this world.
For the first time in her life, she had a real home outside of the batcave and a real family, more than just Bruce. Zooming down the clean streets on her bike, it struck her that this place was hers. These people, the ones who were helping each other and hurting together, were her people.
She stopped in the village first, checking out a dig site. People - regular people, not the kind with super powers or costumes - were supervising and working, trying to get out those who were trapped and retrieve the bodies of the dead. Carrie left supplies and helped the dig where should could. As Robin, she gave them a short talk to keep them going and answered any questions they had about how things were going around the city. As the civs waved her off, Carrie was reminded why she donned a silly costume every night.
She went to three more sites and two triages, repeating the process. As she approached her bike to travel further uptown, moon shining over a broken city, she caught the sight of blue and black out of the corner of her eye. Carrie was completely worn out, not only covered in dirt but also in bruises and scratches. That didn't stop her from hopping into Nightwing's arms and planting a kiss on his lips. It'd been hours since she'd seen him last. "We survived." She was smiling. "When the clean up is over? We are so going on vacation." Excitement sparkled in her eyes. "And I know I need to get back to work, I'm going," she disentangled herself from him. Only to have him pull her back and kiss her once more.
"Oh my... oh my God."
Death was sitting on a couch, peeling the orange that had been sitting on the little table in front of her. She was the picture of calm, in contrast to the dead woman's panic. There was compassion in the light eyes that watched the woman closely.
"That's you, Melissa." Death held out a section of the orange, offering it to the woman. She didn't take it. She didn't even seem to notice it.
"I look like crap." She looked at her body and then at Death. For the first time, she looked at Death properly. She stared at the perky goth for a long minute. When she spoke again, she was much calmer. "Am I really dead? Are you really who I think you are?"
"Mhm," Death shook her head, yes. Her mouth was a little full. It wasn't like she needed to eat, but she'd grown so used to the habit after spending so much time with George and Jason and all of her other mortal friends that she found the gesture mildly comforting. And after the past few days of constant reaping and constant worry over Delirium, Death could needed a little comfort. Standing and leaving a quarter of the orange on the table, Death smiled, "You don't really look that bad. I've seen a lot worse."
"This kinda sucks." The girl, not yet thirty, crossed her arms over her chest. "Is there any way I can get out of this? Make a deal with you or something?"
Death made a face. "No, not really. Sorry." She shrugged.
"Fucking figures, you know. I survived the world falling apart and was done in because my dumbass boyfriend couldn't remember that I'm allergic to peanuts. I've told him a hundred times to check the labels on the food he buys." Her hands were on her hips and she looked mildly annoyed. Dying had a weird effect on people.
"Well," Death said gently, "You could have checked the label before eating the cookie."
"I wasn't really thinking. World ending and all."
Death made a soft, noncommittal kind of noise. "These things happen. More often than you realize, actually." Death walked around the living room for a few quiet moments, she browsed the magazines that sat on the table, the books on the shelf, the pictures that hung on the wall. "It looks like you had a nice life," she smiled. "Your boyfriend?" Death pointed to one of the pictures. The girl nodded. "He's cute."
"He is cute. When he's not being an ass." The girl sighed. Staring at the photo, her anger dissipated quickly. "You're not really scary like I thought you'd be."
"I get that a lot." Death smiled. She walked over to her charge and hooked her arm around the girl's. "Tell you what, why don't we go out for some waffles? I know this great place. Dinner's on me. After that, we'll take a walk through Sunless lands together. It's a nice walk, we'll have some time to talk things over."
"That sounds kinda... nice." The girl let Death lead her toward the door. "What happens after that?"
"That's up to you," Death said.
"Oh. Cool." She looked a little confused, but went along with what Death was saying, figuring that Death had a lot more experience with this kind of thing. Closing the door behind them, Melissa said, "You know, it's been ages since I last had waffles..."
Pietro wasn't sure why he'd done it. He'd gone so long in this world convincing himself that he was a villain that doing the right thing felt awkward. But as he had run through Europe, helping where he could, it had all come back to him. He'd been good enough once.
He hadn't been fast enough today.
Pietro couldn't see the wound on his back, but he could feel the blood trickling down his legs. It felt deep and hurt like a bitch, but it was in such an awkward place - almost straight down his spine - that he couldn't reach to tend to it. He supposed he'd need to head home. After all, he had promised he'd come back as soon as he could.
"Where is mama?" A voice made Pietro turn. A small boy, who was holding a little girl's hand - brother and sister from the look of them - were looking up at Pietro with scared eyes. They spoke a foreign tongue that Pietro hadn't heard in many years.
"I do not know," Pietro responded softly. "When did you last see her?"
"There was a fire..." the little girl said. She looked as though she was about to burst into tears.
Pietro frowned. "Come, I will take you to shelter in the city. Then I can look for mama." He crouched down low, ignoring the shooting pain in his back. Making eye contact with the little boy first, who seemed to be steeling himself so that the little girl couldn't see him cry, Pietro reached out cautiously. He took a child in each arm and stood, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. "We are going to run very fast, so hold on to me tightly." The children nodded, their arms going around his neck, and he took off a moment later.
So much for getting home early.
Stacy was grateful to have been moved out of the waiting room. The chaos and the noise had been hard to block out. People were desperate for information about their injured family members. Some felt that screaming at interns would somehow get that information to them faster.
Lisa had been tucked away to a quiet corner of the hospital. It hadn't always been so; at first, they'd made her share a room with an annoying family. Stacy had thrown some big lawyer words around, mentioning more than once who, exactly, Lisa Cuddy was. Bullying had gotten Lisa this room. Stacy felt it had been worth it. She wanted only the best for her best (and possibly only) friend in this world.
When she wasn't fussing over Lisa's sleeping body, Stacy worried some over Jon and Mia. The twins were worried about their mother, no one could blame them for that. Stacy had been there to try and keep them calm, reassured, and fed. There wasn't much else to do, but taking care of the two of them gave Stacy some sort of purpose as she waited for news.
"Ms. Warner?" Mia stirred. She'd been napping in a chair that was beside her mother's bed.
"Hi, sweetie," Stacy said from the opposite side of the room.
"He went to the cafeteria. He'll be back in a minute."
"Oh." Mia rubbed some sleep from her eyes. She looked at the clock. It was pretty late. "Have you been here all night?"
"I went to check on Mark for a little while. After that I came here," Stacy said, nonchalantly. "I wanted to make sure someone was around to watch after the three of you."
"That's nice of you," Mia smiled briefly and then turned her attention to her mother. She was silent for a very long time, watching her mom sleep. Mia hadn't ever had to do this before. Hospitals were pretty foreign concepts. She knew her mother worked in one, but she hadn't ever been in a hospital for family. Back home, when it'd been she and Jon and their dad, they'd never had a need for hospitals. "Do you think she's going to be okay?" Mia's voice was so low, Stacy could have missed it.
"Yes," Stacy said, her eyes on Lisa's face. "Your mother's one of the strongest women I know. She'll be fine. The biggest problem you'll have is keeping her in bed." Her smile was soft and sad.
Mia shifted in her seat, bringing her legs up and hooking her arms around them. She rested her chin on her knees. "You're right," she said after a long minute. She exhaled.
Within a few minutes, Jon was back with Rei. The two of them brought enough drinks and food for all of them. They sat together quietly and waited. Lisa's eyelids fluttered lightly. Jon and Mia leaned in, hearing the change in her breathing pattern.
Edward was tapping her foot impatiently. The news lady on the television had announced that the world had stopped ending and that meant that Link would probably be on his way home soon. Ed hoped so, at least. She'd been surviving on her own in the Bebop with Ein as her only company for days. They'd avoided any destruction. And the random insane straggler couldn't work his or her way into the Bebop.
"Ay-yah, Ein. When is Linky-Link coming home?" The dog looked up at Ed, wide brown eyes not offering her a bit of solace. Ed paced, waving her arms around wildly.
In the time she waited for him to come home, Ed played a few games of chess, made herself a strawberry-banana-chocolate sundae, completed the week's homework, and watched two movies. She was beginning to give up hope that Link would return when Ein's ears perked up. Ed, who could speak dog, knew what this meant.
Bolting out of her bean bag chair, she was in Link's arms as soon as he got a foot in the door. Edward was a small bundle of energy. Link tried to get hold of her, but she squirmed until she was on his back, arms wrapped around his neck. "Yes! Yay! Yeah! Yes! Yes! Link is back! Hooray!" She shouted happily.
After giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, she giggled in his ear, "Horsey ride!"
As tired as he was, he obliged. Which was just part of the reason why Ed loved him so much.