Oh can't you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches with every step you take
Every Breath You Take - Sting and the Police
Ororo had managed forty-five minutes of peaceful sleep. During the night, she had gotten up several times to go to the restroom. It had to be her nerves. She was most sure of it. Things had only gotten worse when thee o'clock hit and now every bit of dinner she had the night before decided to make its return.
Now, sitting by the toilet, Ororo's eye filled with tears. She couldn't believe herself. Her stomach flipped each moment she thought of Logan, thought of the things she had said last night. How could it possibly be? How could she love him?
If you love me so much, why are you leaving me?
Ororo smoothed back her platinum hair and began to cry. She heaved as she sobber harder, her stomach and chest caving in each time she had taken a deep breath. Her stomach flipped once more and she climbed to her knees, now spitting up clear liquid and foam. She fell back and hit the tub with a thud and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She sniffed and stood on her shaking legs.
Although Victor had made her plenty sick, it had never come to the point that she could barely contain her food. Victor had done terrible things to her. There was a time he had beaten her so badly, she miscarried. She was too afraid to go to the hospital and to afraid to tell Victor for fear of being beaten again. She knew she would no longer be able to take that. Leaving Logan was the wise choice to make.
Victor was here. Logan himself had stated that she needed to leave. She had to be gone before he found her. If he found her, surely he would kill her. Attempt to, at the very least.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror and gave a hollow laugh. She looked ever the mess, her hair was disheveled and sticking out in odd places. Her eyes were blood shot from the continuous crying and the tip of her nose was red. Her mother had even told her she was at her most upset when her nose had turned red.
How Ororo wished her mother were here now.
She swept her hair back and turned the water on. She leaned over and began to splash her face with cold water. She sniffed as she pulled away from her hands and stood up. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and let out an ear piercing scream.
Standing just behind her with a snarl on her face was Victor Creed.
Ororo quickly closed her eyes and opened them and pressed a hand to her chest. Just as he had been standing right behind her, he was suddenly gone.
She closed her eyes again and moved around the room to gather her things.
The dog tags were still protectively around her neck as she hastily moved about, stuffing the clothes she had changed in and out of during her stay in New York into the small suitcase she'd bought the day she had gotten her passport, money out of the bank, and airplane ticket.
She heard a car engine outside and she peered outside to see who it was. She frowned at the Baby Blue Wildcat outside and pulled back. The door opened and slammed with a nasty groan. She moved around the room like a cat, swiftly and quietly. Thunder rumbling outside, Ororo hastened her packing. She couldn't afford to get caught in the rain. Her plan was to head outside and run to the bus stop just outside the apartments. She had found out the route, the times it had come, and everything else the third day she had been here. Everything was going according to plan.
It was going to rain.
Ororo looked up at the clock on the wall and turned on the television. Turning to the weather channel, she sat on the edge of the bed next to her closed suitcase and crossed her legs.
"And there is a nasty thunderstorm headed our way," the anchor man announced, pointing the badly computer generated screen. Ororo looked at the clock once more. According to the anchorman, the storm would be here in an hour. In that hour, she would get on the bus, catch a ride to town and take a cab to the airport. In three hours she would be in the air.
And free.
The bus would be coming in two minutes now.
Ororo lifted her suitcase and put the strap over over her shoulder. She had gotten rid of her latest duffel bag and the money had been sealed protectively in her luggage, wrapped in a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. When she reached the airport, she would buy another duffel and place it all in there.
It sounded insane but she just knew it would work.
She turned off the television and headed to the door.
No sooner had she opened it, did she slam it back.
She felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her. She gasped and took a step back as the door was slammed back open and there stood Victor Creed, smiling and ugly as ever.
Ororo closed her eyes and opened them and her heart fluttered. This time, he was not a dream. He was real, in the flesh, and had that murderous look in his eyes.
"Well, baby, it's good to see you're in good health."
Her body had gone completely rigid with fear and instead of running, she simply stood there and gawked at him. Her brain had stopped functioning. What could she possibly say to this man to save her life?
"Don't worry, I ain't gonna' kill ya'." He stepped closer to her and she had backed herself into the wall.
Victor flashed his canines at her and walked over so swiftly, she felt the wind brush against her skin. Her chest began to rise and fall rapidly and she felt her heart beat so fast she thought it would burst.
"Where is my money?" He asked her in a dangerously soft voice. She slowly began to shake her head and mouthed the words I don't have it. Victor grabbed her face in his hands, squeezing tightly and pursing his lips together.
"Snow White, I'm only going to ask you this one more time... Where. Is. My. Money."
Her eyes filled with tears and her legs gave away as she was slowly slid down the wall. Victor growled out of frustration and backhanded her with his other hand. She cried and doubled over, but he wasn't done with her. Not by a long shot.
"We could have done this the easy way," he began, pulling her by her hair. She followed around, dropping her luggage to the ground and tripping over it. She twisted her ankle and cried once more but Victor paid no attention to her. He slammed the door shut and lifted her easily with one arm and slammed her against the door. She couldn't help but cry louder as the door knob jabbed her painfully in her lower back.
"Victor," she coughed and gave a weak scream when his fist connected with her left eye. Her eye immediately shut but that didn't stop Victor from pounding his fist into her as if she were another man.
"Where is my money?" He asked her through gritted teeth and pulled away. Ororo slumped down into a heap against the door. Blood trailed from her nose and her left eye was swollen shut. She could no longer cry so she gave hacked and strangled sobs. She wiped the blood from underneath her nose and pressed herself into the door. Her scream was strangled as his strong hands wrapped around her throat.
She clawed at his fingers and her legs swung as she was lifted off the ground. She mouthed the word 'please' but he only laughed, tightening his grip around her throat. This was how she was going to die, she realized - struggling at the hand of Victor Creed.
"You gave it to him, didn't you?" Victor asked her, the realization creeping upon his face. "You gave that fucking bastard my money. You fucking bitch." She couldn't argue no with him as his hands were wrapped around her throat. She was seeing stars now and the room was beginning to fade when suddenly -
Victor tossed her easily into the dresser, making her crash against the back of it. She fell to the ground and immediately got on all fours. She started crawling towards the bathroom and yelled as her legs were pulled from underneath her and one of them painfully snapped. Had he...
She was shaking now as he pulled her up and forced her to stand on her legs. The searing, white hot pain that went through her right leg made her fall over and Victor brought up a knee and slammed it into her stomach. Both her eyes opened then and she gave a silent scream.
Falling to her knees, Ororo looked up at Victor.
He stood over her and looked down at her, "I'm not going to kill you," he knelt down next to her and took her face in his hands. It had become a bloodied mess but he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. One of her arms flailed wildly as he pulled back, blood on his lips and teeth. Ororo's own lip was bleeding now as Victor had sunk his teeth down sharply into her bottom lip.
"I loved you," he whispered to her, pulling her up and ignoring her whimpering. They had played this song before. "And I told you the day I met you that I'd always be watching you. No matter where you are. No matter what you do."
Lifting her up by her neck once more, Victor slammed the back of her head into the mirror over the dresser, smashing it. When he pulled her away, blood had streaked her platinum blond hair. He tossed her onto the bed and straddled her.
Ororo blinked up at him, the fight in her completely gone. She opened her mouth to scream but when no sound came out, she simply passed out.
"I'll kill you both." He growled the words menacingly and pulled away from her. He would personally see to it that Logan would come back here. Once he did, they were both dead.
