the scars
Gritting your teeth, you sped through the cold mountains on the motorcycle you had managed to hijack, trying to recall the last time you felt this much adrenaline pumping through your system. The blood that ran through your veins pulsed along your arms and legs. If someone were to grab your arms you swore they would be able to feel the red liquid coming and going, rushing up and down. Every time your heart beat, blood raced to reach the long, diagonal cut that had torn your back open from left hip to right shoulder blade. The wind whipped your hair into your face and dragged tears from your eyes. The temperature was dropping fast as you desperately tried to recount some sort of memory to ground you before the adrenaline burned out and you were forced to feel the coldness penetrating your thin shirt.
He hesitantly looked between both of your eyes before they darted to your lips. You had anxiously been waiting for this moment since the very first time you had met as you lightly licked your lips, inviting, daring him to make the first move. He moved painstakingly slowly and backed you into the bed that sat behind you as he brought his warm right hand to your face, his cold left hand to your hip. As soon as the back of your thighs hit the bed, all sense of apprehension evaporated as he crashed his lips to yours. You moaned into his mouth and your hands tangled into his hair pulling harshly and he bent over you, his huge torso towering over you as he pulled you tightly to his body. He pulled his right hand away from your face to drag both hands around your hips and up your back, him being so large that he could easily wrap both his arms around you. Through all the lust and haze of kissing and touching and breathing together, the feelings of safety and security and longing and desire bled into your body. The built up tension that had grown over the past few months was spilling over into both of you as he pushed you fully back on the bed, walked over to the door, and slowly shut you in.
Panting as the memory faded, your ability to distract yourself weakened as you started to feel the burning and aching and sharpness of the gash on your back. You wildly evaluated where you were, thankful you did, as you took the sharp right turn you were about to miss off the main road. From here it was a short 10 minute drive to the safehouse but you worried you wouldn’t be able to make it as your vision was beginning to show stars along the edges. You didn’t know if it was the cold or the pain that was fucking with your vision and it worried you. Grimacing, you ignored the stars and the shooting pain in your right shoulder each time you turned, you pushed the bike to go faster and faster until you finally saw the familiar outline of the small cabin that stood 200 feet in front of you. Relief came as you began to slow down, a small smile forming on your lips before you mentally kicked yourself and wiped it away. Now is not the time for that.
As you pulled up to the cabin and threw your leg off the bike, you assessed your situation and surroundings.
You were alone, thankfully.
You were cold, unsurprising as it was maybe only 30 degrees out. The sun hadn’t set yet so you knew it was going to drop even lower the later it got. It might even snow as you felt moisture in the air.
You were in pain, unfortunately, but you realized the injury wasn't that bad as the pain was becoming manageable. Whether it was the cold creating a natural numbing solution or shock, you didn’t know.
You were hungry. Shit. You didn’t know when someone had restocked the house last. You’d worry about it later.
You recalled the last time you were at this cabin, the memory from the drive pulling at your head. That was 5 years ago and you kicked yourself for allowing that to be the memory that distracted you from the gash in your back.
The gash in your back.
A new wave of hot pain flashed across your body. Groaning, you pushed yourself up the 3 steps to the door, took a quick look around, and flipped up one of the fake mounted squirrels next to the door to reveal a retinal scanner. Hoping your eye was still in the system, you held your breath as you stared into the scanner. The blue light scanned over your eye as FRIDAY said, “welcome back, Jordan,” and you let out the breath in relief. As you heard the lock click, you pushed your way into the cabin, closing and locking the door behind you. You debated on immediately calling Steve or treating your wound and chose the latter as you peered into the cabin.
In front of you was a large living room/dining room/kitchen space. All of the furniture was covered in plastic to keep it fresh for whoever needed to use it. A large, L-shaped couch sat facing a wood-burning fireplace, and there was a large blank panel in the wall that you knew would reveal a 55 inch TV if you pressed a certain button on the remote on the coffee table. You slowly scanned the room to see if the place had been lived in recently but you quickly notice the fine sheet of dust that covered the plastic.
To your left, you peered down the hallway that leads to one of the master bedrooms that held a king-size bed, a small TV, and a ledge by the bulletproof window that was wide enough for someone to sit on and peer out into the deep forest. The bathroom had two sinks and a jacuzzi style bathtub with a large shower that had two showerheads on each side. Huge cabinets hung above the toilet, too large for a normal home, but you knew that it stored all the medical equipment. The other bedroom was identical to this one and down the hallway to your right.
You decided on the bedroom to your left and stumble to the bathroom. Rummaging through the cabinets, you grabbed Tony’s Reconstructive Extremis Salve and ripped off what was left of your shirt. Placing your hands on the counter, you forced yourself to look up and stare at your figure, topless in the mirror. You knew you weren't looking too good right now but your jaw slacked at just how disheveled you appeared.
Jet black hair was falling out of its braid and pieces hung around your face, framing it not-so-nicely anymore. Your skin was sickly pale, freckles standing out absurdly against your skin, making it look rough and course. The bright blue eyes staring back at you had an almost animalistic and desperate look with your eyebrows pulled together like that. The purple half-moons stamped under your eyes had grown even darker to your chagrin and your eyes traveled down to your slim torso.
Fairly consistent anxiety left your traps always engaged as they stood out above your shoulders. You always liked how it made you look bigger and stronger as you were a relatively small person. Standing at 5’6, you had a petite body that was built for speed and short powerful bursts of strength, mostly coming from your legs. You always thought you had a nice figure, but you winced at the sight before you. Now as most of your muscles had diminished over the last few months your traps appeared to make you look more boney and harsher than usual. The bruises that littered your body didn't help. The scars you had stood out even more against your pale skin and you recounted each one.
The stab wound on the left side of your belly button.
The burn scar that started under your left breast and hooked around under your left armpit.
The small holes of the staples that had hastily clamped your skin back together across the middle of your torso.
The full bite imprint on the right side of your stomach from that man who had gone insane while that militia group held you both captive a few years back.
You always felt rather proud of your scars. It showed off your determination to always finish a mission, to always push on no matter the harm to your body. You would sacrifice yourself and your body over anything and anyone to get the job done.
Shaking your head to physically tear the memories away from your brain, you turned to look at your back and let out a small gasp. Since you hadn't completely bled out on the drive to the cabin you knew it wouldn't be as bad as the pain it produced, but you were still in awe at just how large the wound was. The scar would be at least a foot and a half long across your back and you gagged at the sight. The top half of your back was clean and the bottom half mattified completely red with blood as it had stopped flowing and hardened against your skin. Taking a few deep breaths you cursed as you picked up Tony’s Reconstructive Extremis Salve again and spread some onto your fingers. Just as you were about to spread it onto your back you heard the front door open.