Defector

My ears ring as my aching head is forcefully jerked to the side. I attempt to open my eyes only to reveal my vision is blurred. My temple is the source of the pain as it pounds irrevocably. Blood slithers down my cheek from my aching head onto the floor where it drips into a red puddle. I cautiously roll my head back to its original position where I try to focus in on the figure hovering above me, but my head is moved back by a fist plunging into my skull. The unsteady disorientation of my current condition causes my stomach to react in such a way where I might expel anything inside it. My eyes stutter close as though I might lose consciousness at any moment. I feel a cold claw dig into my cheek as it situates my head forward. I'm only able to open my left eye as the other is becoming blocked by swollen flesh and blood.

The figure in front of me is hazy and a mess of shapes and colours. My eye has trouble staying open since its partner remains shut. I make out the figure to be human, but can't remember who they are or why I'm here. The claw releases my face and I feel my head nod back as it lulls to the side again. My damaged head makes me believe it can no longer handle the amount of pain inflicted and begins to slowly shut down.

Unaware of how much time has passed, I'm brought back to reality by a twinge emanating from my thigh. My working eye flicks open acutely aware of the knife transfixed in my flesh. My eye wanders upward and lands on the torturous blonde with red glasses, identical to the colour of the blood which has exited my body recently. Her twisted smile pierces my stomach much like her knife which sits inside my thigh.

"Comfortable?" She asks with a chuckle in her voice. I know better than to answer that question. "Now that it's just us, I thought we could catch up since it's been forever. How have you been? I heard your dad died a couple years ago. Such a shame, I kind of liked him. I visited him in the hospital a few times. Shared our times together with him." My blood begins to boil, but I'm not sure why. "He didn't seem to mind. Said it was good someone was straightening you out." I look away from her. "You poor thing," she attempts to draw my attention back, "you've lost so much. You must be glad to still have me." My turning stomach leaps almost making me vomit. Casandra steps closer to me. "Let's see if you're still special."

She reaches for me, sneaking her legs to straddle me. She doesn't dare sit on my lap, not with her knife in my flesh. She runs her hands along my body with a soft and gentle touch. She strokes the bit of hair I have before settling on resting her hands behind my neck. She leans closer and begins sucking on my neck. She drags her hands down from my neck to my pants. She shimmies her hand into them, but stops when she realizes what she set out to do failed.

In a fluid motion, she wraps his lanky fingers around the handle of the knife and pushes it further into my flesh. I release an unexpected grunt as though it came out as a reflex. She steps away from me while hot blood pours from the wound and stains its surroundings. She runs her tongue over her fingers ingesting my blood which covers them. I feel the bile rising in my throat hoping it remains inside of me.

"You really are a sick cunt if you think this was going to turn me on." I shout at her. "If YOU were going to turn me on."

Casandra scowls reaching over and pulls the knife up slightly. I flail in the seat I'm restrained to surprised by the immense pain exploding from my thigh. She laughs over my hostile growls of anger and agony. She rests each of her hands onto my bound wrists, keeping no space between us.

"That red head has nothing to offer you. She's nothing compared to me." She spits aggressively.

Red head? Red head. Phoenix. Where is she? My eye opens as wide as it goes with the realization she was taken away from me. Casandra laughs.

"She's probably in worse condition than you. My colleague and your friend have a history. It's not as great as ours, though. I think he's jealous that she didn't love him the way you loved me." Her fingers tease the handle and I anticipate her pulling it up more from my flesh. Instead, she moves the handle around in a small circle as the blade slices the inside. I cry out and beg her to stop which surprisingly she does. "Listen, I do love our time together, but I have business to attend to. Hold onto my knife for me." She smirks with a wink before walking away from me, leaving her knife inserted in my thigh.

I inhale slowly and aggressively yell toward the door she just exited through. The pain pumps throughout my entire body consuming me in a massive amount of suffering. I shut my eye to match its tumid twin to try to calm my mind and focus on something other than the discomfort I'm feeling.

I keep my eyes squeezed shut as I pant viciously as though it's helping me through the pain when in actuality it's keeping me from experiencing the dizziness of my rapid oxygen intake. My heart pounds against my chest which I can also feel throbbing within my thigh particularly around the steel blade. Even with my eyes closed, I still feel the world spinning around me as my breathing picks up more causing me to eventually pass out.

***

The door Casandra disappeared behind screeches open catching my attention, but instead of the blonde devil, it's the rat who sentenced me here. I recognize his face from the brief time I spent with him in that van. He stalks about the room with a snarky smile plastered on his face. He grabs a stool from the other side of the room and walks it over toward me, slamming it down across from me. I glare at him through my good eye as the other is incapable of opening. He has a seat on the stool resting his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward with a smirk.

"Let's be civil, shall we?" He extends his right hand toward me which is stained red. "Start fresh?" I look at his hand then back to his face, unable to shake his hand even if I wanted to. He chuckles to himself and moves his hand away. "Well, I was willing to take the high road. Can't blame a guy for trying. Cassie said to play nice, but she knows I have a bit of a bite." He snarls his teeth at me. "You're a quiet one. How about we talk about something you like? Cherry, perhaps?" I glare up at him. "Oh! I sparked your interest." He laughs. "Did she tell you all about our time together?" I grip the arms of the chair. "Cassie gave me the assignment a month before I found her. She was much prettier in person. Sleeping together wasn't my idea, it was hers. She led me to the hallway of that bar and then dragged me into the bathroom. She practically tore my pants off." I remain quiet. "How does it feel?" He asks hopping off the stool and towering over me. "She let me between her thighs." My knuckles turn white. "And she liked it."

I throw my aching body forward growling intensely at him. He jerks back laughing at my outburst. I try to force myself out of the chair yelling toward him, but to no avail. He gives me one good punch to the jaw and it keeps me from moving anymore. He leans down looking directly into my good eye and places his index finger on the end of the handle.

"So nice of you to hold onto this for Cassie." He tauntingly taps the end. I grit my teeth wincing as it shoots a painful pulse throughout my entire body. He holds a wicked smirk on his face. "I'll never understand what she ever saw in you." He teases. "She said you were so special." He rests his head on my shoulder. "I don't see anything special about you." He whispers. "Do you know how hard it is to follow in your shadow? First with Cherry. Sure, the sex was great, but I knew she wasn't into it or even me. And then with Cassie." He spits on the floor in front of me. "I do everything for her. Everything. And do you want to know how she repays me?" I remain silent and still. "A pat on the back for a job well done." He towers over me. "How did she repay you? You did jobs for her for awhile so the pay must've been worth it. So tell me."

I swallow hard. I got more out of her than he ever would, but I couldn't possibly tell him that. He's pissed and a loose cannon which is probably why she keeps him around. He's just her type. Insane. My time to answer is dwindling and my throbbing head struggles with a correct answer. Although, I should consider that no answer is going to be correct.

"Nothing?" He sighs and begins to walk away. "Shame, I was hoping we could exchange information. You tell me about Cassie and I'd tell you if Cherry is alive or not." My heart sinks to my stomach. "You would've been disappointed either way." He smirks glancing over his shoulder at me. "I made her suffer." He snickers disappearing behind the door, locking me in.

I take a few deep breaths to keep myself contained. He's lying. He has to be. She's my only hope of getting out of here and without her, there is no hope for me. Panic rattles my bones and causes me to hyperventilate. I can't be in this situation again. I don't want to face her again. The room spins forcing me to shut my eyes as I try to keep the sick down which is rising from my throat. It isn't long before the sick is expelled from my body and I pass out, losing myself to the pain and exhaustion.

***

My head throbs, but attempts to regain composure. It feels like ages since I've been conscious. My throat hurts from the vomit I projectiled earlier. I try to take a deep breath, but am stopped short when a sharp pain within my chest cavity prevents me from doing so. I wince scrunching my face hurting my swollen eye and ringing temples. The door on the other side of the room faintly opens and cautiously shuts shortly after. I already feel defeated and don't know how much more of this I can take. I don't bother forcing my eye open or lifting my drooping head to see who has decided to pay me a visit this time. Quiet, sneaking shoes approach me as a gentle hand cups my cheek.

"Oh baby," the voice whispers, "what did they do to you?"

I inadvertently lay my heavy head into the cool, soft hand as this has been the only kindness I've received in what feels like forever. I flutter my eye open to acknowledge this being and thank them for their soft touch. I slowly lift my head attempting to avoid any pain which might set me back. My eye falls upon the ginger beauty I've come to know and love. A smile grows up my lips as a breathy exhale escapes my mouth as a form of laughter.

"What took you so long?" I joke, still unsure if she really is here or not.

"Traffic." She quips. My eye shuts, but I hear her gasp and know she's discovered the knife in my thigh. "Oh god." She says to herself, but I still hear it. She steps away from me. "I've got him." She says, clearly talking to someone else. She starts mumbling something in another language. She walks back over to me drawing my attention as my eye opens, focusing in on her. "I am not leaving him." She rambles on, getting angry in the other language. "Well, think of something, you twat." She reaches up to her earpiece and then rests the same hand back on my face with somber eyes.

"What'd they do to you?" I ask in a haze. She shakes her head.

"Now isn't the time for that." She whispers.

"He said you were dead." My head lulls.

"He lied." She kisses my forehead. "I'm right here."

She reaches for the restraints around my wrists and quickly releases them. She tenderly moves each individual hand through the loosened loops and studies the embedded marks left behind. They're sore, tender, and raw; almost the same colour of sunburn. I give each wrist a rub which doesn't really hurt, but rather makes them itchy. I glance up at Phoe where her eyes are wandering around the room as though she's looking for something, her hand still holding onto my face. I reach up pressing my now free hand onto the back of hers not wanting her to let go of me. My action catches her attention as she leans over and pulls me into her.

Phoe holds onto me until something catches her attention. She slithers her arms out from around me before crossing to the other side of the room. I hear something ripping, but don't have the energy or will to look over to see what she's doing. She rushes back over with torn strips of some sort of clothing. She kneels down in front of me trying to make eye contact with me, but my drowsy head keeps her from doing so.

"Logan --"

"Leave me here." My voice is scratchy and faint, but she hears me. I catch a glimpse of the bloody, puffy flesh around the blade feeling nauseous just by looking at it. "I don't know if I can walk." My mouth moves faster than I can think the words. "Just go. Come back for me later."

"There might not be a later." She bites back. "I'm getting you out of here now." She rests her left hand just above the blade and takes the strips of clothing and starts tying them above the blade.

"Phoenix," I sigh as best as I can in my condition, "please."

"I am NOT leaving you here." She barks. I put my hands on hers to stop her. I take my right hand and grab onto the handle of the knife. "What are you doing?" I brace myself to pull the knife out, but she bats my hand off of it. "You will bleed out and die here."

"I'm going to bleed out and die anyway. I'd rather it be here where I won't slow you down and you have a chance to live then in the hallway with you two minutes from now."

"Logan," her voice stern, but affectionate, "I can't leave you even if I wanted to. If you die, I die. I wish that were a joke." I struggle to understand her sentence, but allow her to do whatever she needs to do.

Phoe quickly gets to work on wrapping the strips around my upper thigh. The blood stained on my pants quickly soaks into the fabric. When she's satisfied with her tourniquet, she wraps my arm around her neck as she weaves her arm behind my back. She yanks me up onto my feet which is painfully unbearable. I plead her to leave me, but she denies it. She holds onto me with all she's got as she attempts to get me walking. I cry through the pain of the first step and know I won't be able to make it.

"Shh! Shh!" She coos. "It's okay, baby. Just put all your weight on me." She coaches me through each step talking over the sobs of pain coming from me.

We reach the door as she slides it open and peaks into the hallway. She leans too far forcing me to put pressure on my leg. I wince away which catches her attention and she deeply apologizes. I tell her to focus and recon.

We start walking again towards the end of the hall where we stop against the wall so she can check the area. She has to drag me into the elevator and puts me down on the floor. We go up one floor and she sighs in relief as the door slides open. Drax, of all people, rushes in along with two others I don't know. They reach down and pick me up. Phoe is praised for getting me out as I'm carried out of the elevator and into a car I don't recognize.

"Stop!" I yell. "Stop!" Drax shushes me as they close the door, leaving me alone in the car.

Through my good eye, I see all three of them talk with Phoe. I feel uncomfortable with this situation and bang on the car window. It catches their attention and draws Phoe to open the door and crawl in next to me.

"I don't like this. I don't know what's going on." I cry into her.

"I know. There's a lot I need to tell you, but not now. We have to get you to the hospital."

"Why didn't you let me die?" I whine as the car roars to life and begins to move. "She's going to kill you. I won't be able to stop her."

"Calm down, sweetie." She runs her fingers through my hair. "Just rest. Save your energy."

I rest my head on her lap as my eyes feel heavy.

"Don't let her take me again." My words fumble out of my mouth. I'm feel so far out of it, I'm not even sure I said them.