Fic - "Retreat" (1/1)
Nov. 18th, 2011 05:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stormkeeper_lovedorisTitle: Retreat (1/1)
Summary: Azazel and Riptide have fled Sebastian Shaw and the Hellfire Club to seek out a life together.
Beta Testing: Thank you to RD for beta testing this entire fic!
Word count: 2,500
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Retreat
Janos Quested shivered as he shifted position in the bed. His eyes remained squeezed shut as the nightmarish images played out in his head. Dimly he was aware that he was dreaming, that the scenes that disturbed his mind weren’t real but the nightmare kept pulling him down anyway, as if to drown him.
Sebastian Shaw. That smiling, insincere face. A glint of a knife. Nausea, the stench of blood.
At last Janos woke. Head throbbing, he pulled himself into a sitting position. The sheets were damp with perspiration again, and he needed to use the bathroom. As Azazel snored on unaware, Janos swung his legs to the side, touched his feet to the cold floor, and made his way to the small washroom. His head was still thick, body still chilled.
Moments later, he returned to the bed. Although their basement hideaway did not allow any sunlight in, Janos sensed that dawn was still many hours away. He had experienced enough nightmares to have a sense of which hour they usually occurred in. Janos quietly lowered himself back to the bed, to its sweaty but comforting sheets.
And back to Azazel. This time, despite Janos’s graceful and gentle maneuvering back onto the bed, Azazel stirred. Janos’s trauma may have been the more recent one, but Azazel had endured a few decades of horrors himself.
“My dear. You are okay?” Azazel murmured.
Although the room was dark, Azazel could see well through the blackness and he could make out Janos’s hand signals. Janos indicated that he was alright. And although there was no need to communicate it, Janos signed the words for “another nightmare” anyway.
“It will pass,” Azazel said. His voice was throaty and low. “Every day that we are free of Shaw, his memory will fade. I can tell you this from my own experience.”
During the weeks since they had fled Shaw and the Hellfire Club, Azazel and Riptide had communicated quite a bit about their lives before they had met. Janos nodded at hearing Azazel’s words. The older man had indeed endured suffering, and was stronger for it. Janos just needed the knowledge and certainty to sink into his bones.
“Come here,” Azazel beckoned. Used to sleeping by himself, Azazel was still getting accustomed to sharing a bed, let alone sleeping with his arms around another. But he liked Janos’s warmth in their chilly hideaway. He liked Janos’s scent.
Janos let himself be pulled into Azazel’s arms, which were the sort of balm he needed. The heat from Azazel’s body was soothing, and Janos relaxed into it. Azazel’s tail gently stroked an arm, providing a comforting rhythm. Janos eventually succumbed to sleep again, and this time his dreams were free of trauma.
***
They lived in an old hideout that Azazel had found after the war. It was cold and dark, but the place had its comforts too. A fireplace warmed the main room, and Azazel had teleported in fine furniture: a roomy bed, oak tables and chairs, a cushiony sofa.
Azazel and Riptide sat together on the sofa one day, in front of the fireplace and curled up under a blanket. Azazel held the sign language book, and they studied it together. Both of them were making remarkable progress with their learning. Janos might no longer have a tongue thanks to the punishment meted out by their former employer, but now the two men communicated better than they ever had before.
After some time had passed, Janos reached for the book and gently closed it. “I am done for today,” he signed.
“Me too,” Azazel said, his eyes feeling a bit sore. The light from the fireplace cast alluring shadows against Azazel’s skin. Janos studied the contrast, enjoying it.
“I’m hungry and it’s time for dinner,” Azazel said, glancing towards the kitchen.
Janos nodded, and then signed, “Your goatee could use a trim.”
Azazel shrugged, a slight smile on his face. “True. Maybe I will get to it tomorrow. And at least now we have all the time that we want for grooming.”
As Azazel made his way to the small kitchen, he turned on the record player. The upbeat Russian folk song, with its heavy use of accordion, began. Azazel merrily hummed along as he cooked.
Janos sat, smiling and watching his lover. Their hideaway was small enough that he could remain on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the main room while watching Azazel in the kitchen alcove. When Azazel’s back was turned, Janos took a deep breath. He felt a twinge of fear knowing that nighttime was coming, bringing with it another potential nightmare. But the breath helped calm him, as did watching Azazel putter about the kitchen.
Janos loved their life here. He loved it for as much as what they had, as for what they were free of. They were now free of Sebastian Shaw, free of dangerous missions, free of constant travel and of overstimulation, free of blood and killing and death. What did they have? Time. In addition to catching up on several years’ worth of missing sleep, they had time to learn sign language together, to listen to music and the radio, to make love.
When dinner was ready, Azazel loaded the plates and glasses onto a tray and brought them to the fireplace. This was their favorite place to eat dinner, despite the aberrant crumbs that occasionally fell in between the cushions. As it grew colder outside, the fireplace kept them warm as they ate - as did the sensation of sitting alongside the other man.
Azazel, as usual, tore into his food with gusto. Janos’s appetite, never prodigious in the first place, had not made a comeback after what Shaw did to his tongue. Azazel encouraged him to eat and he did so, but without much enthusiasm. Janos found that he liked Azazel’s mashed potatoes a lot though, especially when they were served heaped with butter. Some days they were all he ate other than the chalky protein shakes and bland vegetable soups that Azazel coaxed him to consume. Today Janos was glad for the potato dish, for the way it filled his belly.
Despite what Shaw did to him and the way it impacted his appetite, there were other pleasures of the flesh which Janos truly enjoyed. Kissing was one of them. After Azazel had washed down his dinner with a bitter concoction (Azazel had taken to making his own alcoholic drinks now), Azazel pulled Janos closer yet.
“I kiss you now, my sweet,” Azazel murmured before brushing his lips against Janos’s. It was how they kissed now, pressing their lips together, Azazel occasionally using his tongue to trace Janos’s lips. He didn’t insert his tongue into Janos’s mouth anymore though.
Azazel was never one to mourn what he didn’t and couldn’t have. He did miss Janos’s traditional kisses and his voice, yes. But Azazel would never cry over spilled milk, and thus he never really thought much about Janos’s voice or tongue. He and Janos had found new ways to kiss and new ways to communicate. Azazel enjoyed the challenge of mastering sign language. Today, he was more than content to sit by the fireplace with his lover, feeling his skin which was somehow soft but also firm. The comforting aroma of their dinner still wafted from the kitchen, Azazel’s drink burning a pleasant fire inside his belly. And best of all was the sensation of touching Janos’s lips with his own.
“You like it here as much as I do?” Azazel asked, breaking away from the kiss for a bit. He pulled back, his eyes rapidly searching Janos’s face and hands.
Janos began to sign, his eyes gazing languidly at Azazel’s as he moved his hands, “I have you, I have safety, I have sleep. What else could I want?”
What else indeed, Azazel mused to himself. Azazel had wanted to rule the world at one time, wanted revenge on the pesky humans who had taunted and tortured him. He had wanted to crush each and every last one of them and feel the thrill of domination. Had wanted it badly enough that he had ignored his instincts and trusted the likes of Shaw and Frost. What could have changed to make him retreat from the fight like this? Azazel shook his head, knowing the answer was obvious. The horrible day Shaw had decided to punish Janos for questioning the Hellfire Club’s plans – that day had altered his own life irrevocably.
“What are you thinking?” Janos signed, looking into those blue eyes which suddenly seemed far away.
“I am thinking how much I agree,” Azazel said, impulsively reaching for one of Janos’s hands and kissing it.
***
Later that night, they made love. The wind whistled outside but their bed was warm. Janos moaned and tilted his head back, and Azazel buried his mouth in the tantalizing spot on Janos’s throat, coating it with gentle kisses. Azazel slowed the movements of his lower body and of his tail, wanting to extend the pleasure for both of them. Janos would have happily remained like this all night.
Afterwards, Azazel whispered, “I love you.” Janos heard his words and contentedly slipped off into a deep sleep. That night, there were no disturbing dreams.
***
“So here they are at last. My erstwhile henchmen.”
At first, Azazel dimly speculated that he might be having a nightmare. But his skin crawled in alert, and his body jolted up in alarm as he saw Sebastian Shaw and Emma Frost standing in their bedroom. It was not an apparition. Azazel turned towards his lover, but Janos was already awake and staring at Shaw and Frost. Azazel tried to move his body, to muster the energy to teleport, but Emma’s psychic abilities held him in place.
The two men had left The Hellfire Club without much of a plan for keeping away from Shaw and Frost. Azazel and Janos did figure that if their former boss was to come after them, they would simply teleport away. Emma might be a telepath, but without Azazel’s teleportation skills, it would take them much longer to move around and give chase.
But Azazel and Janos had not planned on being surprised. Emma had simply invaded their minds as they slept to discern enough clues as to their location. Next time she and Shaw had business in this area of the world, they found the hideaway though it took much longer than Shaw would have liked.
“I missed you,” Shaw continued. He then took a step closer to the bed with its rumpled sheets and its naked occupants, and shook his head. “I should make you into eunuchs this time. Do you know that word?” he asked, tilting his head. He then turned to Emma and ordered, “Emma, give them an image.”
Emma only smiled vaguely but didn’t obey his orders. She continued to use all her energy to clamp down Azazel’s mind and hold him in place.
“Actually,” Shaw chuckled, again taking a step closer to the bed, “I would never do that to you. I like you both too much for that.” His tone took on a more conversational air. “Why did you leave? What did you want?”
Emma carefully released Azazel’s mind enough to allow him to respond to Shaw. It was a delicate balance as she still needed to prevent him from teleporting.
“Time,” Azazel rasped.
“I promised you time,” Shaw smiled and spread his hands. “I promised it to you then and again now. When we take over the world you will have more time than you can imagine.”
Emma was not the only person in the room struggling. Azazel felt a bead of perspiration trickle down his face, as he fought to respond to Shaw and tried to regain control of the parts of his mind that would allow him to teleport. “It was taking too long. I am not getting any younger, as they say. I want to enjoy my young lover,” he said and forced a smile.
“I can’t blame you,” Shaw said simply. “And in all honesty, I’m sorry for what I did to you, Riptide; I was too harsh on you,” he said, turning his gaze towards Janos. “You angered me by questioning my decisions, but the punishment I gave you then was too severe.” Shaw took a breath. “In order to make up for being too harsh last time, I will be lenient with both of you this time. Come back to the Hellfire Club. I won’t punish either one of you. You two are the most reliable members of the Hellfire Club I’ve ever had – apart from Emma, of course,” he added, nodding at his lover whose icy glare never left Azazel’s eyes.
“I want you on my team,” Shaw continued. “With the four of us working together, we will rule the world – and soon, I promise you, Azazel. Join with me again. Please” He paused and added, “I’d rather have you as friends than as enemies, and I think you feel the same way about me.”
Azazel and Janos looked at each other. Shaw’s threat was crystal clear.
Shaw wasn’t finished. He spoke again, “And I’d like to add that I’ve always known about you two…that you’re lovers. It’s never bothered me in the least. When we take over the world, we can all live openly as mutants. And you two as lovers too, if you want to be open about it.” Shaw’s voice took on a passionate, almost needy tone as he said, “We’re so close now too. We have Colonel Hendry and his Soviet counterpart under our thumbs. I’m convinced that the two super-powers will come to a collision within months, if not weeks.”
Again Azazel and Janos exchanged a look. Azazel knew he’d been defeated, and his eyes conveyed that to Janos. Emma was stronger. She had his mind gripped like a vise, and he couldn’t teleport. Janos gave a faint nod. He knew that even if Azazel could teleport them away this time, what would stop Shaw and Emma from finding them again? And perhaps next time not offering clemency.
After all, Shaw admitting that his previous punishment had been too harsh was fairly unheard of. Perhaps he meant what he said, Janos hoped. Maybe the Hellfire Club really was this close to world domination. Then again, the point was moot. It was pretty clear that Azazel and Janos were not getting away. They could either return to the Hellfire Club as friends or be Sebastian Shaw’s enemies.
***
Azazel and Riptide settled into Shaw’s new submarine easily. If nothing else, the two men were flexible and adaptable; each had survived, lived, and sometimes thrived under circumstances that would have crippled another person. As Janos began to unpack his duffle bag, Azazel reached his tail around and Janos gave it a squeeze.
“We are together,” Janos signed after a moment and after releasing Azazel’s tail. His thoughts perfectly echoed Azazel’s. “We can get through anything.”
***
“That was an impressive speech, but our plans haven’t changed, have they?” Emma tonelessly asked Shaw as they stood in his bright, white office on the submarine. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“No, my love.” Shaw made a slight gesture with his hand, mimicking what he would soon do to Hendry and then to Darwin. “Once the Hellfire Club takes over and our new order is up and running, Azazel and Riptide will be…no longer of use.”
THE END
Summary: Azazel and Riptide have fled Sebastian Shaw and the Hellfire Club to seek out a life together.
Beta Testing: Thank you to RD for beta testing this entire fic!
Word count: 2,500
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Retreat
Janos Quested shivered as he shifted position in the bed. His eyes remained squeezed shut as the nightmarish images played out in his head. Dimly he was aware that he was dreaming, that the scenes that disturbed his mind weren’t real but the nightmare kept pulling him down anyway, as if to drown him.
Sebastian Shaw. That smiling, insincere face. A glint of a knife. Nausea, the stench of blood.
At last Janos woke. Head throbbing, he pulled himself into a sitting position. The sheets were damp with perspiration again, and he needed to use the bathroom. As Azazel snored on unaware, Janos swung his legs to the side, touched his feet to the cold floor, and made his way to the small washroom. His head was still thick, body still chilled.
Moments later, he returned to the bed. Although their basement hideaway did not allow any sunlight in, Janos sensed that dawn was still many hours away. He had experienced enough nightmares to have a sense of which hour they usually occurred in. Janos quietly lowered himself back to the bed, to its sweaty but comforting sheets.
And back to Azazel. This time, despite Janos’s graceful and gentle maneuvering back onto the bed, Azazel stirred. Janos’s trauma may have been the more recent one, but Azazel had endured a few decades of horrors himself.
“My dear. You are okay?” Azazel murmured.
Although the room was dark, Azazel could see well through the blackness and he could make out Janos’s hand signals. Janos indicated that he was alright. And although there was no need to communicate it, Janos signed the words for “another nightmare” anyway.
“It will pass,” Azazel said. His voice was throaty and low. “Every day that we are free of Shaw, his memory will fade. I can tell you this from my own experience.”
During the weeks since they had fled Shaw and the Hellfire Club, Azazel and Riptide had communicated quite a bit about their lives before they had met. Janos nodded at hearing Azazel’s words. The older man had indeed endured suffering, and was stronger for it. Janos just needed the knowledge and certainty to sink into his bones.
“Come here,” Azazel beckoned. Used to sleeping by himself, Azazel was still getting accustomed to sharing a bed, let alone sleeping with his arms around another. But he liked Janos’s warmth in their chilly hideaway. He liked Janos’s scent.
Janos let himself be pulled into Azazel’s arms, which were the sort of balm he needed. The heat from Azazel’s body was soothing, and Janos relaxed into it. Azazel’s tail gently stroked an arm, providing a comforting rhythm. Janos eventually succumbed to sleep again, and this time his dreams were free of trauma.
***
They lived in an old hideout that Azazel had found after the war. It was cold and dark, but the place had its comforts too. A fireplace warmed the main room, and Azazel had teleported in fine furniture: a roomy bed, oak tables and chairs, a cushiony sofa.
Azazel and Riptide sat together on the sofa one day, in front of the fireplace and curled up under a blanket. Azazel held the sign language book, and they studied it together. Both of them were making remarkable progress with their learning. Janos might no longer have a tongue thanks to the punishment meted out by their former employer, but now the two men communicated better than they ever had before.
After some time had passed, Janos reached for the book and gently closed it. “I am done for today,” he signed.
“Me too,” Azazel said, his eyes feeling a bit sore. The light from the fireplace cast alluring shadows against Azazel’s skin. Janos studied the contrast, enjoying it.
“I’m hungry and it’s time for dinner,” Azazel said, glancing towards the kitchen.
Janos nodded, and then signed, “Your goatee could use a trim.”
Azazel shrugged, a slight smile on his face. “True. Maybe I will get to it tomorrow. And at least now we have all the time that we want for grooming.”
As Azazel made his way to the small kitchen, he turned on the record player. The upbeat Russian folk song, with its heavy use of accordion, began. Azazel merrily hummed along as he cooked.
Janos sat, smiling and watching his lover. Their hideaway was small enough that he could remain on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the main room while watching Azazel in the kitchen alcove. When Azazel’s back was turned, Janos took a deep breath. He felt a twinge of fear knowing that nighttime was coming, bringing with it another potential nightmare. But the breath helped calm him, as did watching Azazel putter about the kitchen.
Janos loved their life here. He loved it for as much as what they had, as for what they were free of. They were now free of Sebastian Shaw, free of dangerous missions, free of constant travel and of overstimulation, free of blood and killing and death. What did they have? Time. In addition to catching up on several years’ worth of missing sleep, they had time to learn sign language together, to listen to music and the radio, to make love.
When dinner was ready, Azazel loaded the plates and glasses onto a tray and brought them to the fireplace. This was their favorite place to eat dinner, despite the aberrant crumbs that occasionally fell in between the cushions. As it grew colder outside, the fireplace kept them warm as they ate - as did the sensation of sitting alongside the other man.
Azazel, as usual, tore into his food with gusto. Janos’s appetite, never prodigious in the first place, had not made a comeback after what Shaw did to his tongue. Azazel encouraged him to eat and he did so, but without much enthusiasm. Janos found that he liked Azazel’s mashed potatoes a lot though, especially when they were served heaped with butter. Some days they were all he ate other than the chalky protein shakes and bland vegetable soups that Azazel coaxed him to consume. Today Janos was glad for the potato dish, for the way it filled his belly.
Despite what Shaw did to him and the way it impacted his appetite, there were other pleasures of the flesh which Janos truly enjoyed. Kissing was one of them. After Azazel had washed down his dinner with a bitter concoction (Azazel had taken to making his own alcoholic drinks now), Azazel pulled Janos closer yet.
“I kiss you now, my sweet,” Azazel murmured before brushing his lips against Janos’s. It was how they kissed now, pressing their lips together, Azazel occasionally using his tongue to trace Janos’s lips. He didn’t insert his tongue into Janos’s mouth anymore though.
Azazel was never one to mourn what he didn’t and couldn’t have. He did miss Janos’s traditional kisses and his voice, yes. But Azazel would never cry over spilled milk, and thus he never really thought much about Janos’s voice or tongue. He and Janos had found new ways to kiss and new ways to communicate. Azazel enjoyed the challenge of mastering sign language. Today, he was more than content to sit by the fireplace with his lover, feeling his skin which was somehow soft but also firm. The comforting aroma of their dinner still wafted from the kitchen, Azazel’s drink burning a pleasant fire inside his belly. And best of all was the sensation of touching Janos’s lips with his own.
“You like it here as much as I do?” Azazel asked, breaking away from the kiss for a bit. He pulled back, his eyes rapidly searching Janos’s face and hands.
Janos began to sign, his eyes gazing languidly at Azazel’s as he moved his hands, “I have you, I have safety, I have sleep. What else could I want?”
What else indeed, Azazel mused to himself. Azazel had wanted to rule the world at one time, wanted revenge on the pesky humans who had taunted and tortured him. He had wanted to crush each and every last one of them and feel the thrill of domination. Had wanted it badly enough that he had ignored his instincts and trusted the likes of Shaw and Frost. What could have changed to make him retreat from the fight like this? Azazel shook his head, knowing the answer was obvious. The horrible day Shaw had decided to punish Janos for questioning the Hellfire Club’s plans – that day had altered his own life irrevocably.
“What are you thinking?” Janos signed, looking into those blue eyes which suddenly seemed far away.
“I am thinking how much I agree,” Azazel said, impulsively reaching for one of Janos’s hands and kissing it.
***
Later that night, they made love. The wind whistled outside but their bed was warm. Janos moaned and tilted his head back, and Azazel buried his mouth in the tantalizing spot on Janos’s throat, coating it with gentle kisses. Azazel slowed the movements of his lower body and of his tail, wanting to extend the pleasure for both of them. Janos would have happily remained like this all night.
Afterwards, Azazel whispered, “I love you.” Janos heard his words and contentedly slipped off into a deep sleep. That night, there were no disturbing dreams.
***
“So here they are at last. My erstwhile henchmen.”
At first, Azazel dimly speculated that he might be having a nightmare. But his skin crawled in alert, and his body jolted up in alarm as he saw Sebastian Shaw and Emma Frost standing in their bedroom. It was not an apparition. Azazel turned towards his lover, but Janos was already awake and staring at Shaw and Frost. Azazel tried to move his body, to muster the energy to teleport, but Emma’s psychic abilities held him in place.
The two men had left The Hellfire Club without much of a plan for keeping away from Shaw and Frost. Azazel and Janos did figure that if their former boss was to come after them, they would simply teleport away. Emma might be a telepath, but without Azazel’s teleportation skills, it would take them much longer to move around and give chase.
But Azazel and Janos had not planned on being surprised. Emma had simply invaded their minds as they slept to discern enough clues as to their location. Next time she and Shaw had business in this area of the world, they found the hideaway though it took much longer than Shaw would have liked.
“I missed you,” Shaw continued. He then took a step closer to the bed with its rumpled sheets and its naked occupants, and shook his head. “I should make you into eunuchs this time. Do you know that word?” he asked, tilting his head. He then turned to Emma and ordered, “Emma, give them an image.”
Emma only smiled vaguely but didn’t obey his orders. She continued to use all her energy to clamp down Azazel’s mind and hold him in place.
“Actually,” Shaw chuckled, again taking a step closer to the bed, “I would never do that to you. I like you both too much for that.” His tone took on a more conversational air. “Why did you leave? What did you want?”
Emma carefully released Azazel’s mind enough to allow him to respond to Shaw. It was a delicate balance as she still needed to prevent him from teleporting.
“Time,” Azazel rasped.
“I promised you time,” Shaw smiled and spread his hands. “I promised it to you then and again now. When we take over the world you will have more time than you can imagine.”
Emma was not the only person in the room struggling. Azazel felt a bead of perspiration trickle down his face, as he fought to respond to Shaw and tried to regain control of the parts of his mind that would allow him to teleport. “It was taking too long. I am not getting any younger, as they say. I want to enjoy my young lover,” he said and forced a smile.
“I can’t blame you,” Shaw said simply. “And in all honesty, I’m sorry for what I did to you, Riptide; I was too harsh on you,” he said, turning his gaze towards Janos. “You angered me by questioning my decisions, but the punishment I gave you then was too severe.” Shaw took a breath. “In order to make up for being too harsh last time, I will be lenient with both of you this time. Come back to the Hellfire Club. I won’t punish either one of you. You two are the most reliable members of the Hellfire Club I’ve ever had – apart from Emma, of course,” he added, nodding at his lover whose icy glare never left Azazel’s eyes.
“I want you on my team,” Shaw continued. “With the four of us working together, we will rule the world – and soon, I promise you, Azazel. Join with me again. Please” He paused and added, “I’d rather have you as friends than as enemies, and I think you feel the same way about me.”
Azazel and Janos looked at each other. Shaw’s threat was crystal clear.
Shaw wasn’t finished. He spoke again, “And I’d like to add that I’ve always known about you two…that you’re lovers. It’s never bothered me in the least. When we take over the world, we can all live openly as mutants. And you two as lovers too, if you want to be open about it.” Shaw’s voice took on a passionate, almost needy tone as he said, “We’re so close now too. We have Colonel Hendry and his Soviet counterpart under our thumbs. I’m convinced that the two super-powers will come to a collision within months, if not weeks.”
Again Azazel and Janos exchanged a look. Azazel knew he’d been defeated, and his eyes conveyed that to Janos. Emma was stronger. She had his mind gripped like a vise, and he couldn’t teleport. Janos gave a faint nod. He knew that even if Azazel could teleport them away this time, what would stop Shaw and Emma from finding them again? And perhaps next time not offering clemency.
After all, Shaw admitting that his previous punishment had been too harsh was fairly unheard of. Perhaps he meant what he said, Janos hoped. Maybe the Hellfire Club really was this close to world domination. Then again, the point was moot. It was pretty clear that Azazel and Janos were not getting away. They could either return to the Hellfire Club as friends or be Sebastian Shaw’s enemies.
***
Azazel and Riptide settled into Shaw’s new submarine easily. If nothing else, the two men were flexible and adaptable; each had survived, lived, and sometimes thrived under circumstances that would have crippled another person. As Janos began to unpack his duffle bag, Azazel reached his tail around and Janos gave it a squeeze.
“We are together,” Janos signed after a moment and after releasing Azazel’s tail. His thoughts perfectly echoed Azazel’s. “We can get through anything.”
***
“That was an impressive speech, but our plans haven’t changed, have they?” Emma tonelessly asked Shaw as they stood in his bright, white office on the submarine. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“No, my love.” Shaw made a slight gesture with his hand, mimicking what he would soon do to Hendry and then to Darwin. “Once the Hellfire Club takes over and our new order is up and running, Azazel and Riptide will be…no longer of use.”
THE END
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Date: 2011-11-19 07:21 pm (UTC)