"fire on the ground
got 'em running for cover,
better watch out
i'm about to take over."
- Take Over, Hidden Citizens, ft. Ruelle

╳

"I have a demonstration for you, of what you are to become." Stryker informs me, his tone thick with sinister cheer.

He stands in the middle of the sidewalk, roughly five metres ahead of me. Civilians pass us by none the wiser, going about their innocent days.

Stryker takes a step to his right, revealing another person behind him. The man stiffly steps into line beside Stryker, his face expressionless and his eyes holding no recognition. My face falls and my heart drops.

Evan.

Rather, what once was Evan.

The Evan before me is void of his good nature and his anxious fear of Stryker. And when I focus and isolate the sound of his heartbeat, it's slow. Calm. Almost robotic. Any emotions Evan used to possess are gone, and his eyes are cold and blank.

"This is your future." Stryker says, his voice at a low volume. Anyone walking by would assume he's just talking to Evan. But my keen hearing picks it up like he's right beside me. "This is how you reach your full potential. Free from emotional attachments, from emotions altogether. Except rage." he continues, like a proud salesman. "Take out any adversary, any rival with ease. Starting with your Punisher friend, I think." he snickers. "You and I are going to change the world, Howlett. We have worked so hard to get here. Let us finish what we've started."

My face of shock melts into a deadly glare.

"You killed my family." I tell him. I have nothing else to say, except to remind him of one of the reasons I'll be ending his life.

"No." he chuckles. "You did." A menacing look returns to his eyes. "It's funny how good, innocent people tend to die around you."

My eyelashes flutter and my nostrils flare as I try to force myself not to react. Because it's not just his words that fill me with anger. It's the truth in them. Even Frank said something similar before I left.

Filled to the brim with anger, shame and guilt, I stalk forward. But Stryker only smirks at my approach.

I close in, clenching my fists, ready to strike. I'm a metre away when Evan swiftly draws a gun and fires it into my shoulder. The bullet connects with my metal skeleton and the close range impact knocks me off my feet. 

Choruses of screams erupt as all the people in the street scatter in a panic.

The bullet pops out of my shoulder, and as I try to sit up, Stryker steps forward, shooting three serum darts into my stomach.

I reef out the darts before all their green contents can completely empty, but the three combined have already injected more than enough to dull my healing.

"Best make it a fair fight." Stryker comments, smiling down at me as he steps back beside Evan.

Rage pumps through my veins, ready to erupt, and it takes everything in me to keep my claws hidden.

"I thought you wanted me alive?" I spit.

"I do. But this makes it fun." he replies, giving a cheerful shrug of his shoulders. "We'll see how you do. If you're not going to come willingly, you'll come weak. And then I'll fix you."

I jump to my feet as Stryker whispers into Evan's ear, but I hear every word clear as day.

"Apprehend her, and kill anyone that gets in your way." he instructs.

Evan's eyes lock onto me and Stryker sends me another malicious smirk.

"Have fun." he bids, backing off the street to a parked vehicle. "I'll let all the bounty hunters know you're here." he adds, opening the door. I try to charge at him, but Evan grabs me by the throat. "See you soon." Stryker grins, before driving away.

Evan yanks me to him, our faces inches apart as he glares into my eyes and his hand tightens around my throat.

"Evan-" I gasp.

A civilian tries to intervene, grasping onto Evan's arm. But Evan doesn't even break eye contact with me as he shoots the brave civilian in the foot.

The civilian screams, letting go of him and stumbling back in pain. Evan raises his arm and turns his head to them, ready to fire a head shot.

The three darts still in my grip, I stab the needles hard into his neck. He grunts and his hold on my throat falters. I shove him away from me and back away, glancing at all the people taking cover and trying to flee.

I have to draw Evan off the street, so nobody gets in his way..

I continue backing away to see if he follows or turns on innocent civilians instead, and silently cheer when he marches forward in pursuit.

"Come on, Evan. I'm right here, come get me." I coax him.

Evan glares at me and marches forward. I keep walking backwards, making sure he follows, before slipping down the next alley. 

I pass by a small gang of men down the alley and hear their low chatter of recognition as they look between me and their phones.

Ah, some piece of shit bounters..

"If you guys follow me, I'll kill you." I inform the men as I pass by.  "And if I don't, he will." I add, jerking my chin towards Evan as he enters the alley.

The men all turn and look at Evan while I turn and keep walking.

Gunshots and shouts fill the long, narrow space I leave behind. When I make it out onto the next block, I search the street for the quietest building.

Jogging across the street, I throw a glance over my shoulder, waiting for Evan to come out of the alley. He spots me instantly, and I duck inside the building.

With barely a lobby, I walk past the front desk and down the hall to the open stairwell.

Evan enters the building as I head up the first flight of stairs. The bang of his gun echos thunderously as I'm knocked down by another of his bullets.

Collapsing to the steps momentarily, a yelp escapes me at the pain in my left hamstring. I scamper up the steps to the first landing and roll into a crouch to face the approaching Evan.

Eyes locked on his target, he ascends the steps. Reaching the landing, he raises his gun again but I jump at him, and we tussle. Until I disarm him and kick him hard in the chest, sending him back down to ground level.

"Sorry." I mutter, before continuing up the stairs. 

So this is what Stryker's been doing for the past week or so. Taking over Evan's mind.

I don't know exactly how Stryker's done it, or how any of it works, but I'm hoping Evan's still in there and I can bring him back. I told him I'd kill him if I saw him again, but I don't want to have to do that. Not like this.
If I can just get him alone, up on the roof of this building, I'll either bring him back or send him over the edge.

I limp my way up to the next floor, the pain in my leg not subsiding.

Fuck, I forgot about the serum..

There's commotion downstairs, as bounty hunters enter the building.

Well, shit.

Stryker really wasted no time in passing on the information of my whereabouts. And these guys wasted no time rocking up.

But I guess five million dollars is quite motivating.

I grit my teeth and run up the next few flights of stairs, as quick as I can. But with the pain of the bullet stabbing through my leg, the bounters will catch up to me in no time, not to mention Evan.

A quick glance over the edge shows men with guns hitting the stairs. I press my hand over my wound to stop the blood from leaving a trail and have to stifle a groan at the ache. I limp my way to the end of a hall and slip inside a cleaners closet.

Closing the door, I lean my back up against it and take a few deep breaths. I remove my belt and strap it around my leg above the bullet wound. Wincing, I screw my eyes shut tight and lean my head back against the door.

I hear the thumping of footsteps on the stairwell and listen close to the men ascending the stairs, searching for their prize.

While I listen, I check the bullets in Evan's gun.

One left.

Brilliant..

Why is it always one?

When I can no longer hear anyone on this floor, I open the door and leave the closet.

As I make my way down the hall, an elderly gentleman peaks out his front door.

"Sir, please remain inside and lock your doors." I instruct him. He looks me up and down, and quickly retreats back inside, clicking the lock.

I stop in my tracks as a bounty hunter runs up and stops at the top of the stairs, staring down the hall at me. It's one of the men from the alley. He's injured and quite disheveled.

We stare at each other for a second, and then we both draw and fire. His bullet hits my right bicep while mine hits him in the left shoulder.

He cries out, bending over and clutching at his shoulder as I run up the hall. He lifts his head as I come upon him, and tries to fire again, but I disarm him and punch him hard in his bullet wound. He cries out, tumbling down the steps to the middle landing.

I stand at the top of the stairs, his gun in my hand, my uninjured leg taking all my weight, as I look down at him. "I warned you.. you follow, you die."

He glares up at me, looking defeated.

Men start to rush down the stairs from above. I limp down a few steps and crouch, my back against the wall as I aim and wait.

I rapid fire at two men that step off the stairs and onto my floor. They get a couple shots off before they go down, the bullets peppering the wall above my head.

I hear more men on the stairs below me, the gunfire sending them straight to my location.

I aim the gun at the man on the landing but it clicks empty. He sighs in relief, and drags himself to the corner, slumping against the wall.

I leave the stairs, intending to escape back to the refuge of my cleaning closet, when three more men rush down the stairs from above.

They grip their hand guns and saunter towards me, smirking to each other, already planning how they're going to spend their five million.

My eyes flit repeatedly between the three of them, analysing a way out.

Given my injured leg and bicep, my best way of beating them is if I get angry enough. And this is why Stryker disregarded me during experiments and training. I never led with rage.

I have no beef with these men. They're nothing but an inconvenience. Stryker is the one I want. But if I don't fight them, all the other bounters hitting the stairs will be upon us in no ti-

Gunfire erupts in the stairwell below, something heavier than a handgun leading the fire fight. The three men and I flinch at the sound and they all start shifting their weight.

Oh my god..

"JEN?!" Frank's voice booms from the stairwell, still a floor or two beneath us.

"Castle's here." one of the men before me states. "We got 'em." he laughs.

..And now we have beef.

I strike the laughing man hard across the face with the butt of the empty handgun, pull the knife from his belt and quickly stab it into his stomach. I shove him back, pulling the knife out as he falls, and cop a punch to the face from one of the other men.

I tussle with the other two, all of us landing hits on one another. One of their guns is fired by my ear, muffling my hearing. I barely hear my own guttural scream as I latch onto his arm and break it, before kicking him back.

I drive the knife up into the jaw of the third guy, the silver blade shining inside his open mouth. He falls to the floor, knife still in his jaw, so I turn back to the other man and pull his Desert Eagle handgun from the hand of his broken arm.

I shoot him in the head, before sending final headshots into the other two men.

I feel someone come up the stairs behind me and quickly turn and aim the gun, but my eyes lock onto Frank's.

"Easy, easy. It's me." Frank soothes lowly. The deep cadence of his voice hums in my ears, clearer than his actual words.

"Frank.." I pant, as the anger leaves me, placing pain at the forefront of my attention. I wince and stumble, and Frank lets go of his rifle to steady me.

"Hey, hey- I gotcha." he whispers. I stare into his dark eyes that focus on the blood I feel running from my split cheek. He gently wipes the blood from my cheek and sees the unhealing wound. "Jen.."

"Stryker hit me with serum.." I reveal, my voice low and breathy, suddenly feeling too tired to speak any louder.

Frank looks me over, spotting the bullet in my bicep and the belt around my thigh, the back of my blue denim jeans now soaked dark crimson.

"Let's get outta here." he states, gripping onto his Colt Carbine hanging at his hip.

I hook a finger around a strap of his bullet proof vest and follow along weakly. Frank reaches back with a protective hand, keeping me behind him and out of the line of fire as we descend the steps.

The man I'd left slumped in the corner of the landing sits still, a bullet in the middle of his forehead, courtesy of Frank.

Passing more bodies on the way down, also courtesy of Frank, we reach the landing between the second and first floor. Ear still ringing, my hearing's impaired but I sense something behind us. I quickly turn and face Evan as he lunges at us, knife in hand.

I go back to back with Frank, shielding him, and Evan's knife plunges into my ribs. His body slams into mine, knocking the three of us to the floor of the landing.

Frank quickly rolls out and turns, ready to fight.

I shriek in agony as Evan savagely rips his knife from my ribs and hones in on Frank.

Gritting my teeth, I pull myself up while Frank spars briefly with Evan, before kicking him back across the landing.

Evan stares ahead with dead eyes, focused on Frank. He stalks forward and I jump onto his back, gripping him in a headlock before he gets any closer to Frank.

"Evan, stop!" I yell in his ear. "You don't have to do this. You can go back to your family! Your family, Evan!"

Evan backs up fast, and slams my body against the wall and I let him go, dropping to the floor in a painful heap.

"Evan.. please." I beg through sharp ragged breaths. He turns and looks down at me, a dark nothingness in his soulless eyes.

This isn't Evan anymore. He doesn't know me, and he has no family. All his has is his mission, his target.

Not interested in my words, he kicks me hard in the face. My vision flickers black and red as I hear Frank and him brawl.

Blood floods through my nostrils, leaking out onto my top lip and as I sit up clutching my ribs, my hand quickly gets slick with blood.

Gunfire sounds out again, coming from the first floor below. The bullets thankfully miss Frank, piercing the walls around him and Evan instead. But Frank returns fire at the straggler bounty hunter below, allowing Evan to get the upper hand in their tussle.

I crawl towards them as Evan knocks the gun from Frank's grasp and shoves him up against the wall. Knife in hand, Evan raises his arm, ready to strike. 

I launch myself up off the floor and drive my claws through the back of his head, a deep grunt escaping me as I throw my whole battered body into delivering the fatal blow.

Evan's body goes limp and I pull my claws out, letting him drop to the floor at our feet. The momentum of pulling my claws has me stumbling, and I catch myself on the wall, before sliding to the floor.

"Jen- Jen!" Frank worries, rushing to crouch by my side. "Hey-"

My eyelids are heavy as I try to look at him. My claws retract and I place my hand on his vested chest, my knuckles covered in my own blood as they remain unhealing.

"Let's go home, yeah?" he says.

"Leave me." I breathe.

"No, no, no, no, no. Hey.." Frank dips his head so we're eye level and he leans in close.

"Frank, you have to go.." I plead weakly, my voice barely audible.

"I'm ain't leavin' without you, okay? You want me to go? Come on, then." he insists. He appears calm and supportive, but the panic in his voice is clear as day.

If the only way he's leaving is with me, then I have to move..

I slowly start to push myself up.

"Attagirl, come on." Frank encourages.

He stands up with me, and when I fumble my first few steps, he scoops me up into his arms, bridal style.

He grunts under the unexpected weight of my metal bones, but carries me all the way out of the building to his car.

He sets me down in the back seat, then quickly hops into the drivers seat and starts the engine.

I drift in and out of consciousness as Frank tears down the street.

The last thing I see is the evening sky between buildings, and the last thing I hear is Frank's agitated voice yelling Curtis's name into his phone.

A/ N

references:
- the quote "It's funny how good, innocent people tend to die around you." is from the movie X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

- K