Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

The Cougar

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Story

Summary: Follow Xander as he goes from Sunnydale to Canada where he meets a certain runaway. Can Rogue help him keep his humanity or will he share his father's fate? In a world filled with people who hate and fear him, Xander must decide what he will become.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Xander-CenteredTheLaughingMan + 1 otherFR18545,4741914535,41014 May 0930 Nov 10No

Chapter Five (Finally)

AN: I know it's not as long as the other chapters, but I wanted to release this because it has been FAR too long since I updated and you guys really deserve it. Enjoy -The Laughing Man.





**Cougar's POV**




The wind whips my face carrying thousands of familiar and unfamiliar smells straight up the old snoz, something I both enjoyed and despised about motorcycles. To be honest, I don't think that I am really ready to drive a motorcycle, not because of skill or some bullshit like a license, but those smells were like an attack on my nose. I don't have much experience sorting through smells and on a bike there are literally thousands that crash into my nose. It's distracting and, oddly, like getting the wrong showing room at a theater. You walk in expecting something familiar and boom there's a porno on the screen. Not bad per say, but definitely distracting, confusing, and surprising. The feeling of freedom that the bike gave me was wonderful, more like flying than driving. I mentally added a few scent tracking exercises to my need-to-do-list when I got the next chance, if only to be able to ride a bike without the smells trying to blitz my nose. Like I said, it's confusing and I don't like being confused. On a brighter note, speed is fun!

I can hear Rogue squeak and feel her tighten her hold around my waist as I gas the bike as I come out of a wide curve. It made me smirk at her fear, though it was a different kind of pleasure than fear usually gives me. Normally, the scent of fear is arousing. Both to my sex drive and my bloodlust, but my Rogue's fear just brought me a sense of mischievousness. Ha, 'mischievous', and Mrs. Caldwell said I sucked in English. Snotty bitch. If I ever get back to Sunnydale, then I am definitely terrorizing that old hag. Payback for sixth grade, the thought of the old woman screeching in terror before collapsing from a heart attack made me grin wickedly. It's really the simple things that makes life worth livin', plus it wouldn't technically be murder if I just scare her enough to turn her cold, withered heart against her. Natural causes and all that. Gotta love loopholes, though without the Professor keeping me on a leash I guess it doesn't really matter anymore. I had suspected the bald guy wasn't what he appeared, but I didn't expect something like this.

There is only one place I can go now: Sunnydale. The Hellmouth's energy field might be enough to hide us from Xavier's mental abilities, but at this point it's only a half-assed guess. The idea is fairly solid. I don't remember anyone at the Institute being from the Hellmouth, then again I wasn't really looking. In Sunnydale I'll have the advantage. I know the Hellmouth very well, just about every nook and cranny is mapped in my noggin. I'll have allies in the form of Buffy, Willow, Giles, Oz, and whoever else has joined the old gang, plus whatever minions I might be able to scrap up. I don't like minions or using them, preferring to fight my own battles, but I ain't dumb. If I'm going up against the 'X-Men', then I am going to need some real help and that means recruiting. Don't like minions, don't trust minions, kill them when they run out of usefulness. That's my motto. I wonder if I should go get 'Marie'. She was, I knew, loyal to me only and she had the full package of a minion level vampire. On the other hand she looked exactly like Rogue and that would definitely cause drama that I really don't want to get into. Not yet, anyway. Or, ya know, ever.

There were other problems with going all the way to Sunnydale in the form of Buffy, Willow, and probably Cordelia 'The Bitch' Chase. I have a theory that the Hellmouth super charges my instincts and that would spell disaster with a capital D, probably either ending with my death or wishing that I was dead. I love my girls, so much that it hurts, but I also have a thing with Rogue. If I go back there's a decent chance that she would survive when Xavier's people come looking, but I might end up hurting my girls which was the reason for me leaving in the first place. Rogue's safety, the gang's safety, what humanity I still have, two of these things I'm gonna lose if I head back. Was Rogue worth it? Was she worth losing my sanity? Was she worth more to me than my girls? I hate myself when I find the answer is: yes. Yes, Rogue was worth it, she worth more to me than anything.

"There's the Junction!" I heard Rogue shout over the sound of the wind, her voice was muffled by the helmet she was wearing. I spotted it, more by the smell of the junkyard than by sight, and looked around for the highway that whats-her-name had mentioned. I glance north: only houses, I glanced South: 7-11, East was the way we came, I glance west: only the junkyard. My instincts began to scream at me, telling me something wasn't kosher. I brought the bike to a stop and sniffed the air. The wind had changed, it was coming out of the East. I could just smell the junkyard and we were sitting next to it. Damn wind, never helps you out. I couldn't have picked a still day, no we had to leave during a day that the wind changed regularly. The nose never lies, but the wind does make my nose it's bitch occasionally. "Cougar, where's the highway Raven talked about?"

"It ain't here, darlin'." I growled out, searching for any sign of a threat. My claws extended from my finger tips, the four inch bringers of death comforting me only slightly. Against some of Xavier's boys, my claws wouldn't do much. Please God, just don't let Xavier bring the kid who could turn into metal and become Superman. I can't handle that shit. For all I know this isn't even a fucking junkyard, could be just a building and Xavier only made us believe that it's the junkyard we were looking for. Having the world's strongest telepath chasing you, it makes ya question some things. "Get off the bike. This isn't right."

Rogue obeyed, removing her helmet and allowing her long brown hair to fall around her shoulder's picturesquely. As soon as she got off the bike, the goddamn bike lifted up off of the ground and bitch slapped me over the junkyard wall where I landed in some pointy metal things that *hurt*. I snarled as I pulled a long piece of junk from my stomach, groaning lowly in pain as it pulled free with a squelching sound that I usually enjoy hearing, though for obvious reasons I didn't enjoy the sound at that moment. Barring nostalgia. I stood up, my legs wobbling unsteadily as my healing factor went to work. I didn't even begin to heal before I felt something slam into my back causing me to slam into the truly unforgiving junkyard wall that I had just been bike whipped over. Pain hit me like a physical wave, washing over my mind and clouding it with a combination of hate, fear, and rage. Somebody was going to pay for my broken nose, three broken ribs, bruised spine, concussion, broken wrist, and shattered pinky.

"Not looking too bright there, mate." A Cockney accented voice called out, an accent I only recognized thanks to the evil endeavors of Spike and Drusilla. I lay still letting my body regenerate and half hoping that my attacker was stupid enough to check on my apparently helpless body. Ooh, there went the ribs. I almost groaned at the feeling of my most flexible bones snapping back into place, but I held my tongue. Oooh, my pinky. That got a grimace. "Oh, c'mon man. I know that love tap didn't put you out. Quit playing around."

My spine tingled, queuing me that it should be healed in just a few seconds. I can fight with a broken nose, the concussion was the first thing healed up, but it was going to suck. I slowly sunk my claws in the filthy dirt, readying myself for a pounce while laying flat on my stomach. When the tingle ceased I pounced at where the voice came from with all of my considerable strength behind it only to get an ungodly strong kick to my chin that sent me for a fifteen foot back flip. I twisted my body in midair, landing on all fours and getting my first good look at my opponent aka the dead man. He was of average height with green hair and a few piercings, a grin revealed small flat teeth. Bastard's skin was pale and slightly greenish while his legs, the ones that could send me flying, appeared average. My nose snapped into place and I snorted out the blood in my nose, noticing that this guy smelled vaguely of frogs or toads. Never learned the difference.

I roared loudly, allowing my rage and instincts to fuel and guild my actions as I bound toward him on all fours. I attacked low, going for his legs. This was a bad plan because this guy's legs were both strong and quick while I was running toward them like an idiot. A knee to my face showed me why it was a bad idea. The kick to my cheek sent me spinning, but I lashed out with my claws in an attempt to hit my opponent. It didn't work. I needed to get around those legs of his. Well, I could just fight him like I would have a jock before my mutation kicked in. Get 'em down on the ground. Standing, I glared at the green haired guy who smirked at me. Smug bastard. I hate smug people, except myself and even that is debatable. I couldn't get close enough to him to get him on the ground and I knew it. I needed some reach. I glanced around the junkyard and spotted a car bumper. Well, that's convenient. Frog-boy noticed my attention to the bumper and smirked again like he knew something I didn't.

I grabbed the bumper and found some decent places to grip. Alright, let's see you whoop my ass again. I ran toward him with bumper raised high and the froggy guy kicked a pole into the air before catching it and twirling it around expertly. Oh, shit. I didn't have time to abandon my attack and figure out how to handle a frogish guy with some serious bo-staff training, plus freaky leg strength. I brought the bumper down toward his head, but he blocked it with the staff, though I noticed his arms trembled from the force of my strength and his legs tensed. So, he was using his leg strength to keep himself planted and to push against me. His arms were no where near as strong as his legs. I needed a new strategy and fast if I was going to survive this. I pressed down with all of my strength and the green man started to tremble from the strain as I slowly pushed him down. Suddenly, he side stepped and allowed me to slam one end of his makeshift staff into the ground before he withdrew it at lightning speed and impaled me through the chest. For a moment all I felt was shock, then I growled and used the situation to push myself further on the pole and slash outwards with my claws, scratching the green man's face diagonally just missing his eyes.

My sight turned darker as I heard the green dude curse at my little victory and I tried to pull out the staff from my chest before I passed out. I was turned over and felt the pole get shoved through the still healing skin and into the dirt, pinning me to the ground effectively. The greeny crouched next to me, a glare in his dark eyes. No doubt the guy was pissed that I had hurt him which, in my current position, was not of the good. "Scored a good hit on me, mate, I'll give ya tha'. But Ole Toady always wins in the end." He leaned down to my ear as if he were telling a secret...or was gay. "Don't worry about your girl, me and Sabertooth'll watch out for her." He snickered before adding mockingly. "Promise."

I screamed. No other way to describe it. I fucking screamed. I don't know if it was rage, fear, or pride that made me scream, but it was loud. The pain of being impaled and helpless seared through me bringing with it a hatred that I have only ever felt in small doses. I was scared, no bullshit, I was freaking scared, but not of this guy or any other guy on the planet. I was scared for Rogue. It had finally hit me. The magnet guy was after her, not me or the tin man. This whole damned thing was a trap, one tailor made for me and Rogue. There was no highway, just the junkyard which just so happened to be absolutely perfect for ambushing us. Surrounded by metal with the stench of the junkyard hiding the scents of the magnet man's minions. That dark haired bitch had set us up. She may not even be one of the X-Men, just a perfectly placed plant that used our confusion and fear to lead us happily into hell. God, when I got my claws on that bitch who set us up what I did to my pet vampire was going to be nothing. I'm gonna get creative with her. Very creative.

Toad boy walked off, laughing to himself before he jumped over the twenty foot wall with ease. I struggled, growling in pain every now and then as the bar twisted and wiggled as I tried to loosen it. It had nailed me in the center of my back, pinning me stomach first to the ground and preventing me from pulling it out. Summoning my strength I raised myself up a few inches, trying not to gasp with the pain the movement caused me. Once I was high enough on the pole aka around a foot up on it I grasped the bar and pulled it out of the ground, collapsing onto my side. My clawed hands shook as I slowly pulled the piece of steel out of my chest, feeling every crease and bump on that thrice damned pike. I could feel the metal of the staff grinding against my bones as the metal slid against my chest plate. I could have died just from relief when I finally pulled the pole out, but instead I just laid there waiting for my healing factor to make it possible to do more than growl weakly at the bad guys.

After precious seconds passed me by in an excruciating time slow down I was finally able to push myself up onto my knees. My rage gave me the strength and my claws gave me the grip I needed to begin dragging myself toward the direction where I thought Rogue had been taken. I couldn't really tell anymore which way was which, too many hits to the head and body trauma, but I didn't bother to think about it too much, instead concentrating on the fact that she needed my help. It gave me a strength of will surpassing even my berserker-ish rage, enough to ignore the sharp pieces of metal that littered the ground when they dug themselves into the flesh of my stomach. A strange sort of focus overtook my mind, the pain was still there but to the side of my thoughts, no longer overwhelming. There was only the objective: save Rogue, my entire being was dedicated to that one single thought. Nothing else mattered, not pain, not Magneto, not Xavier, not even me. Just her.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, I dragged myself to the wall feeling stronger with each passing second as my injuries slowly healed. By the time I reached the junkyard wall I was able to stand using the wall to brace myself. My reliable claws cut deep into the metal and I began to slowly scale the seemingly endless wall. Every moment felt like an eternity to me. I didn't know if it was the pain, my 'Rogue in danger' enhanced focus, or just my mind that was responsible for the slow passage of time. I didn't questioned it, didn't have the time ironically enough. Finally, I got to the top of the damned wall just in time to hear the distinct sound of an approaching helicopter. Looking down, I snarled at the sight of three individuals standing as pretty as you please right in the center of road.

One was an old man with some sort of Star Wars reject helmet on his head where a black suit with a freaking cape of all things. Storm wearing a cape I can understand since she wears a skintight leather bodysuit and it covers her ass, still did this escapee from the retirement home still think capes are in fashion? Well, he probably *did* remember when they were. The other figure was massive and blond, you guessed it: my dear old Papa holding MY Rogue like a sack of potatoes. The last was the Frog Man who I'm pretty sure took lessons from Darth Maul. My animal was frothing with absolute unbridled rage that was controlled and directed by my focus to fuel my strength. There would be no mercy now, nothing held back, just the animal's hatred and the man's love working together.

"Rrrraaarrggghhh!!" I roared as I leaped from the twenty five foot wall toward the soon to be in agonizing pain for the rest of their short lives kidnappers. The old man turned his head and gave a small, cold smile of amusement while the now scarred Toady opened his mouth and shot his fucking tongue at me. His tongue! Green boy had more tricks than Ethan Rayne. Despite my shock, I kept my wits and arched my back to give me precious split seconds while slashing at the incoming slimy muscle. I felt and heard a vicious snarl of satisfaction come from my throat as I cut two feet off the tip of his tongue. The tongue went wild, oh how wrong that sounds, flipping and flopping in mid-air from the pain as a muffled scream came from the froggy dude. As I neared the group I kicked out my feet and nailed the stunned toady in chest. As soon as I hit the ground I scrambled up and shot toward my Pop who grinned evilly and dropped my Rogue to the ground like she was nothing.

Before I could close, something cold and hard slammed into me sending me tumbling to the ground awkwardly. I struggled against the mystery object which writhed and wrapped around me like some sort of snake, binding my arms and legs together. With every ounce of strength I possessed I screamed and pushed against the object, but all that did was make the widjamathing screech and groan. Now bound, I glared around and saw what was cocooning me: a streetlamp. Magneto, magneto, magnet, oh, oops. Yeah, I'd forgotten what the old man's specialty was in my rage. I felt like a complete fool for a brief second before my rage took it's rightful place at the front of my mind only this time it was aimed at the senior citizen who merely raised an eyebrow and smirked. I had the feeling that I had seen Magneto before and it tickled at something in the back of my mind, but I couldn't remember where I could have met the old fart before.

"Mr. Harris, you're looking much better than the last time I saw you. I'm relieved that you've done away with those hideous shirts of your's." Magneto spoke in a refined drawl that sounded extremely familiar with an equally familiar quirk of the lips. "I really had no idea you were this Cougar I've been hearing about. Who would have thought that Victor Creed would have had more than one son?" He chuckled, sounding pleasantly surprised as he peered closer at me. "Though you do resemble him more than your brother here."

"Welcome to the family, runt." Sabretooth said with a fanged smile that matched the one I saw in the mirror. The chopper ad arrived at this point and hovered around a hundred feet above us causing various debris to start flying from the wind. Now that the threat was over, my newly found brother picked up my unconscious girl again and threw her over his shoulder once more. He paused an sniffed Rogue with interest before shooting me an impressed grin. "Not bad, not bad at all. Taking after your smoother big brother, eh?"

"Let me out of this, *Bro*, and I'll show you smooth." I threatened helplessly, lengthening my claws out to their maximum. Damn, do I hate feeling helpless. "And stop dropping my girlfriend, you fucking overgrown house cat before I start using your intestines for suspenders!"

"You smell that?" Sabretooth questioned, sniffing the air with a mocking expression before turning to grin at me. That grin was annoying, I hoped mine didn't look like that. Mine probably looked more threatening, possibly even sexy. Better than his anyway. "I smell bullshit."

"Enough, it's time to leave." Magneto called an end to our pissing match as the chopper landed and the two headed toward it with my hairy brother pausing to give me a mocking wave goodbye before clambering into the back while tossing the unconscious/possibly dead Toady next to him roughly. I could see a scaly blue woman with red hair piloting the flying machine before Mags enter the co-pilot seat and obscured my sight of her. Just as they lifted off a blue sports car screeched into sight, flying down the street toward my position. For a moment I didn't know what to think about: anger at the escaping chopper or worry that the blue car was going to hit me. Just when I thought I was about to become road kill while painfully surviving, the car skid to a stop ten feet from me.

"Kid!" To my everlasting surprise it was Logan, getting out of the car and rushing toward me. He unsheathed his metal claws and easily sliced through my steel bonds, causing a pang of jealousy and envy to course through me. "Where's Marie?"

"In the helicopter that just flew off into the fucking sunset." I growled, more angry at myself than at the Wolverine. He gave a growl as he gazed at the quickly disappearing chopper and punched the asphalt angrily. "It was Magneto along with my hairy big brother and some frog guy."

"Brother? Great, more relatives." Logan complained, helping me stand up with his left hand while his right hand healed from punching concrete. "So, what the hell happened? Jean found ol' One Eye in your bed knocked out and you guys gone. Wheels said that he was going to find you two and now he's out of it, too. To top it all off, Storm said that she saw Cyclops and talked to him when the fearless leader was already out cold."

"We were played like a fiddle by some bitch named Darkholme. She said Xavier was some sort of puppeteer, made up some bullshit about getting out of his mind control and we bought it hook, line, and sinker." I snarled, getting more and more pissed off as I thought about it. Damn it! If Xavier had really wanted us brainwashed he could have done it already and we wouldn't have ever left in the first place. I have done some insane, stupidly reckless crap and said even worse, but I never felt like such a moron than I did at that moment.

"Come on, kid, let's get back to the mansion." Logan said firmly, grabbing my elbow. I turned to glare at him and opened my mouth to insult my metal laced companion, but then I saw the rage in his eyes and realized he was nearly as pissed off as I was. "We got a rescue to plan and troops to rally. We are getting her back, I don't care who we have to cut through to get to her, but we will save Rogue."

"Why do you care?" I asked, honestly at a loss. He stopped and turned to look at me. "I mean, she's not your girl or your daughter. Hell, we pretty much just met you."

"I'm not sure. Maybe it's because I think she's a good one. One of those few people who genuinely give a rat's ass about a perfect stranger. Maybe she reminds me of someone or maybe I just like her. Yer guess is as good as mine." Logan shrugged, not looking too sure himself. I accepted it and decided to not think about his reasons, at least not until we got her back. "Come on, don't want those geeks to try and save her. They'll ruin everything."




****End Of Chapter****



AN: I got lost on the road of life. There's been a few deaths, a new birth, and all sorts of drama I don't feel like explaining. I couldn't get into contact with the good Brother Bludgeon, so this chapter was solo and unbeta-ed. If my excellent co-author doesn't contact me soon, I may need a new one so keep that in mind. Naturally, BB is free to return and work on the story with me at any time, but if he can't for whatever reason then anyone interested in writing this with me can either inform me of their interest via E-Mail, Reviewing, or whatever other way you can think of. Also, feel free to distribute my stories to other sites or even continue certain ones. Just be sure to give me credit for what I did and ask if you want to continue one.

The End?

You have reached the end of "The Cougar" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 30 Nov 10.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking