Traitor (X-Men Fanfiction) [Book 1 in Addie's Story]

Chapter 8

“Mom!” I scream as I come out of sleep. I sit up breathlessly and push my hair away from my face. I haven’t dreamt about my mother in months, or the way her and my brother died. I haven’t had a nightmare in months—except for the occasional one here and there. However, in the past few days I’ve dealt with more nightmares than I can count. Nightmares about Bradley’s death, about the attack, and—tonight—about my mom. I hate dreaming about my mother, because it only reminds me that she’s gone. I bring my knees up to my chest and bury my head in them. I resist the urge to cry, but fail and end up crying anyway.
After a while of crying I hear my door open and see light flood my room. I remain curled up in myself and don’t look up, but I do stop crying. The door closes, leaving me alone again in the dark. I straighten up slightly and wipe away the tears slowly. I feel the edge of the bed dip down and jump, startled by the realization that I’m not alone.
Victor sits on the edge of my bed, barely visible in the dark. He immediately apologizes for scaring me and I shrug in response. After my stupid comment earlier he left, saying that he understood—though I don’t know what he understands. I stayed in my room the rest of the day, hating myself for not forgiving him, and eventually fell asleep. For the past few years it’s been Victor that has been here whenever nightmares wake me up. And despite the tension between us right now, I’m glad to see him. I won’t tell him that of course—that would be admitting I miss him.
“Why are you here?” I ask quietly.
“I heard you crying. You ok?”
“Am I ever?” I respond with a faint smile. It’s not surprising that he heard me crying, not with his senses. It also helps that his room is only like two rooms away from mine.
“Nightmare?”
I nod, “My mom.” He inhales sharply. He knows that out of all the nightmares I’ve dealt with, nightmares about my mother are always the worst.
“I’m so sorry Addie,” he says, then just sits there awkwardly. Before everything, when I was still staying with him, he would’ve pulled me into his arms and I would have gone back to sleep with no problem. There’s tension between us now though, which only makes it awkward. I kick myself again for not forgiving him earlier when I had the chance. Maybe it’s not too late to try now.
It’s ok.” I respond. After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence I speak up, “Victor?”
“I’m still here.”
I smile, “I know. Listen, about what I said earlier… I’m really sorry. I know your apology was genuine. I don’t know why I responded the way I did. I—”
“You just needed more time to process what I said.”
I stare at him, “How did you—”
“I’ve known you a long time Addie, give me some credit.” I smile and feel some of the tension leave.
“Can we just go back Victor? Before Bradley, and the attack? I’ve lost two friends this week, I don’t want to lose you too.” I feel the bed move and a moment later Victor’s hand grabs mine, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I held and uncurl myself. I reach forward and wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He hugs me back and for the first time in a week I feel safe. For just a moment the entire world, and all the pain that goes with it, is blocked out and everything is ok. He releases me and I slowly pull away.
“It’s late Addie,” He says, “You should go back to sleep.” I shake my head, not wanting to return to the nightmares.
“Addie—”
“I can’t sleep Victor. Every time I close my eyes the past few days it’s torture. My mom was the final straw… I refuse to go back to sleep.”
“You can’t stay awake forever.”
“Watch me.”
He laughs, “Can’t convince you of anything.”
“You should know that by now,” I laugh. It’s quiet for a moment before he finally responds, “Well, what if I stay with you. Will you sleep then?” I pause, thinking it over.
“Maybe,” I respond. The bed shifts as he stands and I move over to give him room. He slides in next me and I lay down on my side facing the wall. His arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me closer to him, engulfing me in warmth and comfort. Using his other arm as a pillow, I close my eyes and allow myself to relax. Victor buries his face in my hair and whispers a small, “Goodnight.” I don’t respond. I can already feel myself getting drowsy, and slowly allow sleep to overtake me. I have nothing but pleasant dreams the rest of the night.
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When I wake up the next morning Victor is gone. I never even felt him move—let alone get up and leave. I sit up slowly in the dark, shuffle over to the light switch, and turn it on—dimly lighting the room. Then I walk back across the cold, concrete floor to my bag. Apparently my father had a bag packed and brought here for me—how nice of him. I pull out a pair of dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and my black converse. I quickly change and open the door, blinking at the bright hallway lights. A guard stands outside and immediately bars my way as I try to exit, “Sorry miss, you don’t have access to walk freely.”
I stare at him in shock, “Since when? I’m the boss’s daughter.”
“My instructions were to make sure you stayed here.”
“So I’m grounded?” he doesn’t respond.
“Fine,” I continue, “but can you get a message to Victor Creed for me?”
“Victor Creed isn’t on base miss.”
“Well then where is he?”
“I don’t know miss.”
“Well you’re helpful,” I say before slamming the door shut. My father grounded me to my room, in a secret military base… Alone. Well this day is turning out lovely. I look around the room for any other means of escape—refusing to stay locked away. A large air vent sits above the desk, but other than that the room is bare. I climb on the desk carefully and reach up for the vent. Luckily, the ceiling is low and I’m able to reach it easily—only to find it screwed into the ceiling tightly. I jump down and walk over to my purse.
Gambit and I used to hang out in air vents a lot. He used to break out of his cell and we’d end up diving into an air vent to escape guards or just sitting in there talking. Fortunately for us, my father never knew we used them as hiding places. We had several other hiding places around base, but he found most of those. The air vents were always my favorite place to hide, and the ones at base are just big enough to sit in and hide out. Hopefully the ones here are just as big.
After pulling everything out of my purse and flipping it upside down and searching through everything I finally find it: my screwdriver. I bought it when Gambit and I discovered that we could actually fit in the air vents. Leaving everything spread across my bed, I climb back on the desk and start working. The first two screws come out easily, but the third and fourth ones I have to practically drag from the wall. I pull the last one out slowly, keeping one hand on the vent itself so that is doesn’t fall. I quietly place the vent on the desk and straighten up. The ceiling is too low for me to straighten out while standing on the desk, but with the vent gone I can stand up all the way. I reach up, grab the inside edge, and pull myself into the air duct.
The inside is slightly smaller than the ones I’m used to, but it’s still big enough for me to crawl through the tunnels easily. I have no idea where I’m going—I just know that I want out of the dark, depressing room. I choose a random direction and crawl until the tunnel ends, avoiding vents along the way. Turning right, I continue moving. After a while of going down different tunnels, I decide I’m far enough away for the guard not to spot me. I stop above an air vent and look through the slits.
I’m looking down into some kind of lab, but that’s pretty much the only thing I can tell about where I’m sitting above. People talk and move around beneath me—most likely scientists. There’s too many people for me to just drop down unnoticed though, so I decide to keep moving. That is until my father’s voice catches my attention. I can’t make out his words, but just the fact that he’s here makes me curious. I hover over the vent, trying to see/hear anything. Another person—a guy—is talking with my dad, but I can’t make out their conversation. I press in closer to the vent.
 “It will make you indestructible Logan.” I freeze. What’s Logan doing here? I think to myself. Logan is Victor’s younger brother, although according to Victor he used to have a different name. He was another member of my dad’s team, and was the first one to leave. The things my father was ordering them to do were against his moral cord…can’t say I disagree with him. Victor was devastated, and felt like his brother abandoned him. They haven’t spoken in six years—since everything happened. Logan and I have kept in touch though. We talk every now and then on the phone, but not often. The last place I expected to see him is here. I lean even closer to the vent in an attempt to hear his response, and find out what he’s doing here, but lose my balance. Before I can pull myself back the vent breaks and sends me crashing into the room below.