Emma watched with fear as Sage leant down and tugged a knife from her boot. She was gasping for air from the brutal ‘service’ that Sage had subjected her to. They both recognised the knife, it was part of their shared history, and much like the ‘service’ was part of their time in the club.
She had used the knife on Sage the first time she had met her, had pressed the knife to her throat and commanded her to obey every word and whim. It was part of Tessa’s initiation and had been a shock for the new girl in the club.
“I remember this Emma, don’t you,” Sage purred at her, a dangerous smile on her face. She paused, noticing something else, and the smile widened. “I see Sebastian has marked you,” she pushed hard on the brand and Emma screamed despite herself. “I guess it’s my turn now.”
She pushed again on the brand, and Emma whimpered, mentally begging Sage to stop this torture, but she wouldn’t utter a word out loud, not now, not while Sage was acting like this. Emma was sure that any sign of weakness would be exploited.
She screamed again as Sage began to cut into her inner thigh, using deliberately slow and deep marks to ensure a visible scar. “Please Sage, stop this,” she pleaded, angry at herself for being reduced to this and angry at Sage for being so human. Sage said nothing, just kept cutting and smiling as she carved her own sigil into Emma’s flesh.
Then it was over, no new pain overlying the old burning of the cuts and no new tears joining those already streaming down her face. Sage was watching her again, much as she had while suffocating her, a feral, terrifying look on her face. Emma wondered what else she was planning to do to her. Wasn’t what she’d already been through enough?
As Sage removed her underwear with the knife and painstaking precision, Emma realised that to Sage’s unfettered mind it probably wasn’t enough, and that what was coming was going to be worse than what had come before.
The feeling of cold metal sliding into her confirmed her fears and she stilled, too scared to move a muscle for fear of Sage slipping and slicing her up inside. “You can beg for me now Emma, and you’d better do a good job. You wouldn’t want me to get distracted.”
Sage laughed coldly as Emma started to beg and plead, her voice breaking with the tears that were falling and the fear that kept spiking as the knife moved in and out. It seemed like hours to Emma, but she was sure only minutes had passed when Sage stopped and pulled the knife out properly.
She grinned as she held it up to the light, and Emma looked on in horror as she licked it off, eyes closed and a blissful look on her face. “You taste nice Emma, spicy with fear. I wonder if all of you tastes so good.”
****
Sage laughed again as she pressed her fingers into Emma’s cuts and covered them in fresh blood, ready to taste. Looking down at them, she had a flash of memory of another time, of other blood on her fingers, of another life when she cared about what happened to Emma.
What the hell was she doing here? What the hell had she done to Emma? She was playing directly into Sebastian’s hands, fulfilling his sick little fantasy and hurting a team-mate at the same time. This was not like her, and she could feel the cold logic coming back to the forefront of her mind.
Looking at Emma she could tell how scared the other woman was, how truly and mortally afraid Emma was of her and instead of delighting her it sickened Sage to her stomach. But she would not vomit, now wasn’t the time. Now she had to get them both out of there.
Moving quickly she slashed the ropes holding Emma to the chains, ignoring the flinch and the answering flash of shame it brought her. “I’m sorry Emma. There is no time to explain.” The cold logic was slipping, the heat of the drugs pouring back into her mind. “You have to run, please.”
Emma didn’t need telling twice. Despite the obvious pain her injuries were causing her Sage watched as she scrabbled up and staggered off into the forest, heading away from her as fast as possible.
Sage had only a moment to think that perhaps, given her current mental state, telling Emma to run had not been one of her better plans when the heat from the drugs washed away all traces of control again and the hunt was on.
****
Sebastian was almost disappointed when both Sage and Emma disappeared out of his camera’s line of sight, but he knew what was coming now. Sage was hunting Emma, it was the opening move to the end of the game and there would be no way that Emma could escape this alive.
He had made sure of that by arming Sage, not that she needed it, and effectively neutering Emma by taking away her telepathy. He didn’t need to see the kill, that was a bit much even by his standards of debauchery. No, it was enough to know that the feral, uninhibited Sage would take care of his problems once and for all.
And then she would be all his again, would be by his side forever, as the perfect partner and companion. She would be his and Emma would be worm food.
****
It was when she hit the river that Emma realised that she couldn’t run anymore. The blood running from her wounds and the descent into the river bed took her legs out from underneath her. The shock of the cold water on sensitive bare flesh kept her there and nothing she could do would make her move.
She knew Sage was after her, could hear her coming through the forest, could hear the taunts and jibes and threats that proceeded her like a tidal wave. There was no need for stealth when there was just the two of them alone like this.
Emma shook her head and forced herself to get to the bank of the river. She counted herself lucky that it was only shallow and that she hadn’t fallen far, and she would not be beaten like this. She was a Frost, and she would not go down without a fight.
Sage appeared like a phantom at the edge of the river, materialising out of the forest almost silently despite the earlier commotion. Emma was glad that the shock of the cold water had helped numb her mind because if she had seen Sage like this whilst being tied down she never would have attempted to run.
It was clear from the other woman’s posture that Sage meant to kill her, meant to use that knife she was clutching for its deadliest purposes. Emma sat and let her come, a plan forming in her mind.
“Not going to fight me White Queen?” Sage crowed, already savouring the kill. “So you are going to die with dignity instead of begging. What a foolish assumption.” She was next to Emma now, whispering in her ear and still Emma did nothing. “I’ll make you wish for death a hundred times over before I let you die.”
Sage made to push Emma down into the water and that’s when she made her move. Her hand whipped up, rock clutched tightly in it, and impacted against the side of Sage’s head, stunning the feral woman. Emma lashed out a second time, and this blow sent Sage down into unconsciousness and the water.
Emma dragged the still form of her team-mate up onto the river bank, after all it wouldn’t do to have her drown, and set about removing the twice damned collar from around her neck. It was high time that they both go home.
****
It was a week before Sage saw Emma again, a week in which she was subjected to a multitude of tests by Dr McCoy in whose isolation lab she’d awoken eight hours after Emma had knocked her out.
The most frustrating thing about her time in the lab was that she wasn’t sure what had happened in the time between being in the bed in Sebastian’s apartment and waking up back in the mansion. All that she knew was that both Emma and she had been suffering hyperthermia and she had been inebriated with some drug.
Henry wasn’t telling her anything either. She wasn’t sure what Emma had told him of the time that she had lost, but he had just told her to talk to Emma when she asked for details to fill in the blanks in her memory banks.
So now she was on her way to see Emma, who had been released two days earlier, and was recuperating in her room, and generally making everybody’s life miserable while she did.
Knocking on the door Sage was unsurprised when she felt the slight brush of a probe against her mental shields. Henry had told her that Emma had been a little twitchy since coming back to the mansion and was double checking everybody before they were allowed close to her. A little bit of paranoia was healthy after all.
“Come in Sage,” Emma called through the door, and she was startled to hear Emma use her new name when for so long she had delighted in calling her Tessa and reminding her of the past. Heading in she saw Emma reclining on the sofa and shut the door behind her, not wanting them to be disturbed.
“Hello Emma, how are you doing?” she asked, wanting to get the formality of enquiring about her health out of the way quickly so that she could find out what the hell had happened out there. Part of her was genuinely interested in Emma’s health but she needed to fill the gaps desperately.
“I’ve been better. But that isn’t the real reason you’re here and we both know it darling.” Emma gave her a wan smile and gestured to the armchair. “Have a seat and ask your questions.”
Sage sat and dove straight in, cutting directly to the point. “I don’t remember what happened seven days ago between us, but from the expression on Henry’s face it probably wasn’t good. I need to know.”
Emma looked at her; an odd expression on her face, one Sage couldn’t read. “Do you really want to know?” she frowned. “It would be so much easier for you to never know, to not have to live with what happened.”
“Please Emma, I need to know.” As much as it pained her to ask Emma for anything, she was the only one who could fill in the gaps. “Please, show me.” Sage deliberately lowered her shields, a sign of trust that she had not given anyone in a very long time and Emma obliged, showing her everything.
One thought echoed through as Sage felt everything. ‘We’re even now; I know who you really are.’
****
Sebastian smiled in pleasure as he regarded the figure standing outside of his inner city apartment. Only one person could possibly know that he was here at this time of day and his darling Tessa had come home to him.
Opening the door he let her in, unsurprised at the slightly unfocused look on her face. She was apparently in shock, but he supposed being ousted from the X-Men and told never to return would do that. He had been shocked that it took them so long to do so, but then they would’ve had to see to her health first. Damned bleeding hearts.
“Tessa,” he said in welcome and pulled her into a crushing hug. He could see that underneath the heavy leather coat she was dressed in her Hellfire uniform, just as he’d always liked to see her. “It’s so good to have you back my love. Please, make yourself at home.”
“Thank you Sebastian,” she smiled at him shyly, as if not sure where she stood with him. He kissed her possessively, she was his after all and she had to know it, and then pulled back with a nod to the kitchen.
“Why don’t you make us some coffee and then we can discuss the terms of your return to my side, and to the Hellfire club.” He watched her go, a feeling of pride growing when she returned minutes later with two steaming mugs of coffee. She still remembered everything she’d been taught.
He took a large gulp of the coffee, an imported delicacy from a warmer land, and swallowed, only noticing that something was wrong far too late to do anything about it. Sage’s smirk, which had been the first give away, broadened at his dismayed expression.
Sebastian began to choke, a warm solidness closing over his airway almost instantly. He tried to gasp out something, anything, only to find that he could not move his throat.
Sage leant down, and delicately touched two fingers to his temple, establishing a very tight mental connection. Over it she showed him the candle wax she’s mixed in with his coffee, the wax that was now scorching his throat, solidifying and killing him.
As the darkness swept him away the last thing Sebastian Shaw saw was a fragment of Sage’s memory, a smiling Emma Frost, a feeling of welcome and a thought she had left for Sage. ‘We’re even now; I know who you really are as you know who I really am. And I do not judge you for it.’