awritinglilypea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
awritinglilypea) wrote2009-05-13 03:57 pm
awritinglilypea) wrote2009-05-13 03:57 pm
Entry tags:
Wrestling Fic: A Hard Kind of Life 1/? (Lita, Raven, Punk)
Title: A Hard Kind of Life 1/?
Rating: R
Complete: No.
Characters/Pairing: Lita, CM Punk, Scott Levy
Summary: "I had to go to the institute, a lovely little building on the east cove of what used to be known as the majestic United States, a land of freedom. It's not so free anymore, at least not for people like me."
Notes: Inspired by daily prompt 5/13/09: weakness.
Warnings: Contains violent themes, preternatural creatures and broken bones.
Prologue
Today is not a good day, not a good day at all.
I had to go to the institute, a lovely little building on the east cove of what used to be known as the majestic United States, a land of freedom.
It's not so free anymore, at least not for people like me. The great U.S of A has seen fit to capture, experiment and dissect any people who aren't considered normal we've learned since coming here.
I don't think I'll ever get the images of those poor people out of my head, being torn apart, poked and prodded. It's all wrong.
Anyway, the institute is a ranch house, I guess it used to be nice but it's pretty broken down now, inconspicuous. It's the key to our survival.
The inside is nice enough, if you can get past all the weird technology. Computers, electrolysis, any number of machines to be hooked up to so your powers can be monitored. Brain waves, emotions, it's like being a rat in the cage.
It's not the best life but here I can learn to control it, and they won't cut open my skull to get to my brain, something I thank myself for every day.
Weakness, weakness...Buck up... A familiar voice assaults my mind, but not my ears.
Strange I know, it is basically like hearing, without the same auditory tones and an even bigger headache. Not to mention people say things in their mind when they think no one is listening that they would never dream of voicing out loud.
You wouldn't believe the things I hear.
A growl assaults my hearing causing me to hurry toward the back bedroom, pressing my hand to the thick wooden door.
You're not weak, you're not. Let it come, let the change come. I project, my voice is softer than my speaking one, a learned behaviour after Scott said I almost split his brain open.
It's a new ability, something developed. The owners of the institute say it will help insure our safety but I'm not so sure.
The noise of breaking bones has always made me nauseated but it's the sound of Punk crying out in pain which really gets to me. It makes me happy that I don't have his ability, that all I have to do is put up with other peoples voices in my head.
My brother finds me, about an hour later on the floor outside of Punk's room, my back pressed to the door and tears drying on my cheeks.
Scott looks down on me but doesn't say a word, instead sliding to the ground next to me he holds my hand.
Punk is still moving around inside the room, nails clicking on hardwood floor, just like a dog, only a hell of a lot bigger.
We both wait, it seems like hours are slipping by until the sound of whimpering gets louder and soft tired cries echo through the hallway.
I'd say they should soundproof the rooms but I need to hear him to know he's okay.
The door opens, nearly sending me and Scott tumbling to the ground but big brother rights me quickly, pulling me from the floor as we turn to face Stephanie.
"You can go in now," she says softly, and I almost feel bad for her, especially when her guilt pushes against my mind nearly making my knees buckle.
She doesn't like working here, working for her brother, and I can't say I blame her. I am no good at stomaching what happens around here either, much less being a participant in it. I don't know how she does it.
She's going to break Scott thinks rather loudly, clearly trying to get through to me and succeeding in not only doing so but also giving me a headache.
I know I skirt past Stephanie and into the room, immediately making my way over to Punk I drop soundlessly to my knees next to the cot he's lying on, a sheet covering his lower half and preserving what modesty any of us can have at this point.
Sitting there on the floor my nerves flood me and I quickly clamp down on what mental shields I have not wanting to overload Punk's mind by accident, not wanting him to hurt anymore than he already has been.
His eyes slide open and for a moment my heart seems to stop at seeing that warm brown, like melted chocolate. "I heard you," his voice is nothing more than a croak. "I heard you in my head," he tells me, seeming earnest in letting me know that.
"Good, I heard you too," You're not weak I add, smiling back at him when his lips curve upward.
"Thank you," Punk squeezes my hand, his gaze shifting to Scott. "Raven," he acknowledges my brother respectfully as though he is Punk's leader or something.
I guess in a way he is. I know Punk sees us as a pack, due to his ability but I had never really thought of it.
Where is my role than? What am I to him?
I shake myself out of those thoughts as Punk says something to me, "Repeat that."
"You don't have to stay here with me you know," the ink-haired man tells me again, his eyes shining with pain and exhaustion.
I nod, "I know," it is hard to resist the urge to press my lips against his, something I've wanted to do for a long time. "I want to stay though," I squeeze his hand gently.
Punk nods back to me and I can see that he is in a lot of pain which pains me as well. I wish I could take it all away but I don't know how.
"I don't, I'm out of here before they decide I'm needed for something," Scott moves almost silently and kisses my forehead and then Punk's with a playful wink before leaving the room.
I shift around, sitting cross legged on the floor I'm glad the cot is low to the ground. "Maybe you could stay at our place tonight, when you're feeling a bit better."
Punk nods, "Sounds good to me."
A wash of shame floods me and I know it's not my own because I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.
"There's nothing wrong with staying with some friends," I kiss the back of his hand before I can stop myself, freezing.
Punk looks into my eyes, a flash of gold showing in his before he closes them and takes in a deep breath. "You should know better," he murmurs.
"What?" I snap before I can stop myself. "I can't even kiss your hand now."
"I told you," he tries to protest but I cut him off.
"No you didn't, you ordered me," I exclaim. "I am not yours to be ordered around, I'm not safe whether you and I are trying to be together or not," I don't want to force the issue but I can't help it.
He is scared, I can feel it choking me and rising up in me until I find it hard to breath and have to close my eyes.
"Lita, Lita," his voice is calling to me, in my head and out but I can't hear him. I can feel his beast now, clawing at my insides and causing me to cry out.
It wants me, just as much as he does. Mate it whispers in my mind, voice hoarse and gravelly. Lover his human voice is there as well.
Weakness, he is my weakness. Apart we will have nothing. I try to force the idea on him and soon hear a growl escape his lips, before the sound of cracking bones overtakes my hearing.
Darkness takes me under just as my head feels like it's going to explode and a scream bursts from my mouth.
Rating: R
Complete: No.
Characters/Pairing: Lita, CM Punk, Scott Levy
Summary: "I had to go to the institute, a lovely little building on the east cove of what used to be known as the majestic United States, a land of freedom. It's not so free anymore, at least not for people like me."
Notes: Inspired by daily prompt 5/13/09: weakness.
Warnings: Contains violent themes, preternatural creatures and broken bones.
Prologue
Today is not a good day, not a good day at all.
I had to go to the institute, a lovely little building on the east cove of what used to be known as the majestic United States, a land of freedom.
It's not so free anymore, at least not for people like me. The great U.S of A has seen fit to capture, experiment and dissect any people who aren't considered normal we've learned since coming here.
I don't think I'll ever get the images of those poor people out of my head, being torn apart, poked and prodded. It's all wrong.
Anyway, the institute is a ranch house, I guess it used to be nice but it's pretty broken down now, inconspicuous. It's the key to our survival.
The inside is nice enough, if you can get past all the weird technology. Computers, electrolysis, any number of machines to be hooked up to so your powers can be monitored. Brain waves, emotions, it's like being a rat in the cage.
It's not the best life but here I can learn to control it, and they won't cut open my skull to get to my brain, something I thank myself for every day.
Weakness, weakness...Buck up... A familiar voice assaults my mind, but not my ears.
Strange I know, it is basically like hearing, without the same auditory tones and an even bigger headache. Not to mention people say things in their mind when they think no one is listening that they would never dream of voicing out loud.
You wouldn't believe the things I hear.
A growl assaults my hearing causing me to hurry toward the back bedroom, pressing my hand to the thick wooden door.
You're not weak, you're not. Let it come, let the change come. I project, my voice is softer than my speaking one, a learned behaviour after Scott said I almost split his brain open.
It's a new ability, something developed. The owners of the institute say it will help insure our safety but I'm not so sure.
The noise of breaking bones has always made me nauseated but it's the sound of Punk crying out in pain which really gets to me. It makes me happy that I don't have his ability, that all I have to do is put up with other peoples voices in my head.
My brother finds me, about an hour later on the floor outside of Punk's room, my back pressed to the door and tears drying on my cheeks.
Scott looks down on me but doesn't say a word, instead sliding to the ground next to me he holds my hand.
Punk is still moving around inside the room, nails clicking on hardwood floor, just like a dog, only a hell of a lot bigger.
We both wait, it seems like hours are slipping by until the sound of whimpering gets louder and soft tired cries echo through the hallway.
I'd say they should soundproof the rooms but I need to hear him to know he's okay.
The door opens, nearly sending me and Scott tumbling to the ground but big brother rights me quickly, pulling me from the floor as we turn to face Stephanie.
"You can go in now," she says softly, and I almost feel bad for her, especially when her guilt pushes against my mind nearly making my knees buckle.
She doesn't like working here, working for her brother, and I can't say I blame her. I am no good at stomaching what happens around here either, much less being a participant in it. I don't know how she does it.
She's going to break Scott thinks rather loudly, clearly trying to get through to me and succeeding in not only doing so but also giving me a headache.
I know I skirt past Stephanie and into the room, immediately making my way over to Punk I drop soundlessly to my knees next to the cot he's lying on, a sheet covering his lower half and preserving what modesty any of us can have at this point.
Sitting there on the floor my nerves flood me and I quickly clamp down on what mental shields I have not wanting to overload Punk's mind by accident, not wanting him to hurt anymore than he already has been.
His eyes slide open and for a moment my heart seems to stop at seeing that warm brown, like melted chocolate. "I heard you," his voice is nothing more than a croak. "I heard you in my head," he tells me, seeming earnest in letting me know that.
"Good, I heard you too," You're not weak I add, smiling back at him when his lips curve upward.
"Thank you," Punk squeezes my hand, his gaze shifting to Scott. "Raven," he acknowledges my brother respectfully as though he is Punk's leader or something.
I guess in a way he is. I know Punk sees us as a pack, due to his ability but I had never really thought of it.
Where is my role than? What am I to him?
I shake myself out of those thoughts as Punk says something to me, "Repeat that."
"You don't have to stay here with me you know," the ink-haired man tells me again, his eyes shining with pain and exhaustion.
I nod, "I know," it is hard to resist the urge to press my lips against his, something I've wanted to do for a long time. "I want to stay though," I squeeze his hand gently.
Punk nods back to me and I can see that he is in a lot of pain which pains me as well. I wish I could take it all away but I don't know how.
"I don't, I'm out of here before they decide I'm needed for something," Scott moves almost silently and kisses my forehead and then Punk's with a playful wink before leaving the room.
I shift around, sitting cross legged on the floor I'm glad the cot is low to the ground. "Maybe you could stay at our place tonight, when you're feeling a bit better."
Punk nods, "Sounds good to me."
A wash of shame floods me and I know it's not my own because I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.
"There's nothing wrong with staying with some friends," I kiss the back of his hand before I can stop myself, freezing.
Punk looks into my eyes, a flash of gold showing in his before he closes them and takes in a deep breath. "You should know better," he murmurs.
"What?" I snap before I can stop myself. "I can't even kiss your hand now."
"I told you," he tries to protest but I cut him off.
"No you didn't, you ordered me," I exclaim. "I am not yours to be ordered around, I'm not safe whether you and I are trying to be together or not," I don't want to force the issue but I can't help it.
He is scared, I can feel it choking me and rising up in me until I find it hard to breath and have to close my eyes.
"Lita, Lita," his voice is calling to me, in my head and out but I can't hear him. I can feel his beast now, clawing at my insides and causing me to cry out.
It wants me, just as much as he does. Mate it whispers in my mind, voice hoarse and gravelly. Lover his human voice is there as well.
Weakness, he is my weakness. Apart we will have nothing. I try to force the idea on him and soon hear a growl escape his lips, before the sound of cracking bones overtakes my hearing.
Darkness takes me under just as my head feels like it's going to explode and a scream bursts from my mouth.