Alright, got another oneshot using another person’s OCs, this time the excellent author @loubuggins. Check her out for more info on the characters (or if you just want to read some awesome fics), otherwise enjoy!
Janet was breathing heavily, sweat pouring off of her form as she wove through trees and bushes, vaulting over roots and ducking beneath branches an instant before collision, doing all she could to simply keep her target in sight. As she caught another flash of his form speeding through the trees, the last moments of their argument replayed themselves in her mind.
"Mark, everyone misses you. Everyone thought you were dead! There's been talk about a god damn funeral for you!" She shouted.
"Doesn't sound too bad to me," he said, voice devoid of emotion and rough as sandpaper from years of disuse. "At least then I could see mom again."
She went silent, frozen. "You don't mean that," she told him quietly. "Please tell me you don't mean that." This time it was a request, a plea.
A shrug. "Doesn't really matter. I'm not going back. This is where I live now. This is my home."
"A home is more than just a place you lie your stubborn ass down at the end of the day!" She exclaimed. "Now come on, and let's go home. To your family.”
She went to grab him, but instantly he was gone, and in his place was a light green cheetah. It immediately turned and sped off, out of the clearing and disappearing into the trees, followed moments later by the speedstress.
In most scenarios she would be much faster than the bright green cheetah ahead of her, but in the dense jungles of Upper Lambada, Africa, his form was far better suited for the surroundings and terrain.
Just as the thought crossed her mind and as if to prove her point, she slipped on a dense patch of mud on the ground, sending her tumbling forwards with a cry and colliding with a tree, several unpleasant crunching and cracking sounds indicating that something was injured, likely broken.
She groaned in pain and frustration, knowing that by now he was long gone, and she had no hope of tracking him further. The thought brought with it a feeling of sorrow and loss far more intense than what she was expecting, and tears began to fall unbidden. She wiped at them angrily, telling herself that he had left long ago, she couldn't lose someone that was already lost, but even she knew that trying to fight her own heart was as hopeless a struggle as any.
She glanced down at her chest, gingerly feeling about for any broken bones with a bleeding arm, likely cut on a branch while running or during her fall that she hadn't noticed. Thankfully, she was still in one piece and her injuries were at worst a handful of broken, not completely shattered, ribs. She heaved a sigh of relief, hissing in pain as the action magnified the pain of her bruises. A handful of broken ribs, while definitely not the worst she had been through, still had the capacity to hurt like hell.
However, as she let her arm fall back down to recover, a soft, wet, and warm surface came into contact with it and she jumped, glancing down to see a light green cheetah lapping at the cut caringly, the sight freezing her with unwanted hope.
She reached out an arm uncertainly, almost afraid he would evaporate in her touch, but finally her hand reached its destination of his unruly and wild hair, proof of his years of isolation, as somewhere between then and when she had begun the motion he had shifted back to his original form.
"Are you okay?" His voice was still as rough from being unused for so long, as it had been before their argument which lead to the chase, but something in it contained a new warmth, hidden and pushed aside as it might be.
She grmiaced in response. "A few are broken, but I'll live."
"Good." He rose up to stand in front of her, glancing first down at her again, and then around the forest, and back down, as though debating something. "How far away is your ship?"
Mark pursed his lips, thinking. Finally, he reached down and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her shiver at the contact. He hoisted her up, but as soon as she was standing and went to put weight on her feet, she cried out in pain and would have collapsed to the ground again if he hadn't caught her. "Alright, leg's broken too."
He cursed under his breath, something previously uncharacteristic of him. She raised an eyebrow, already prepared to rib him for it as she used to, but stopped after realizing that he could be an entirely different person by now and she would have no idea. He could be a complete stranger.
The changeling groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation, before meeting her eyes once again. "How long will it take you to heal with your speedforce and get outta here?"
"About a day, maybe a little longer," she shrugged. "Though if you really want me gone you could always help heal me yourself," she added, smirking up at him.
He didn't bother answering, choosing instead to gingerly pick her up bridal style, hands hesitant as if wary that she would burn him, or maybe they would break her. Or both.
Whatever the case, Janet took the position to her advantage and burrowed into his broad chest (was he this muscular before he left?) comfortably, enjoying how he tensed as she did so.
"You're still leaving as soon as you're healed, and I'm still not coming with you," he muttered, though she deigned to ignore him and instead listen to the steady, strong beat of his heart through his clothes.
By the time that they reached the abandoned safe house he had made his home for the past years, the sun was setting in the sky and her broken bones were producing a constant ache that made every motion painful, now that her adrenaline had worn off completely.
Mark turned and pushed the door open with his back, before striding inside and making his way over to a messy, unmade bed in a corner of the small 3-room building. He knelt down and laid Janet upon it gently, disappointing her at the lost contact with him. He turned and took a seat on a chair across the room, picked up a book, and immediately became almost as still as a statue as he began to read.
The sight of the changeling with his nose buried in a book was so familiar, even with the unkempt hair, ripped clothing, and untidy, alien room, that she felt pangs of heartache and regret at the lost time between them and shoot through her chest, even more painful than her injuries. "Even now, you still love your books, huh?" She poked at him fondly in a futile attempt to ignore the emotions welling up.
He huffed in frustration, lowering the book to glare at her. "Well, the internet connection over here isn't too great, and in case you haven't noticed, there's a significant lack of electricity, so as much as I'd like it, Gamestation isn't much of an option. There aren't many people to talk to other than the meta traffickers we just took down, and that leaves me with books."
She paused, thinking over his response as silence once again descended. "Thanks, by the way. For, you know, helping me with those guys."
"Well what did you expect me to do?" He asked. "Just leave you to them and let you not only fail the mission you came here for, but also possibly be hurt or abducted yourself?"
A smile broke out over her expression. "Aww, so you do care!" She teased. "My hero!"
He rolled his eyes, before pretending to puke in disgust to the side, making retching sounds behind a hand before smirking along with her, and for a second it was like old times. But then her laughter came too hard, and the ache in her ribs evolved into a sharp stabs of agony and she choked into silence, grasping at her abdomen and screwing her eyes shut.
Mark's eyes darkened, as though remembering their situation, and he stood up, striding over to the bedside and growling at her angrily. "Just lay still and focus on healing."
She sighed. "You're really that eager to have me gone, aren't you?"
The changeling merely stared at her emotionlessly for a handful of seconds, before jerking his hands up to place them over her stomach, and she let her head fall back as his healing magic flowed into her, soothing the injuries and relaxing her body.
"It also makes me feel... closer to her," he mumbled, as though he had read her mind. Her head shot back up to meet his gaze, and the sorrow there nearly broke her heart.
She reached a hand up to cup his cheek, but he shied away. "Mark," she murmured softly. "I know it hurts. I lost Justin, and-," she paused, voice breaking slightly as memories washed over her. "And Raven was basically my own family too. But you can't just run away from it all."
"But I did already," he replied. "I ran when she died, I kept running when I got here, I ran from you earlier, and I'll keep running all my life. I guess it's just what I do," his voice was weary, empty, shoulders slumped as he spoke, as if knowing himself how futile what he was saying was.
"And what'd it get you?" She pursued. "Isolation, unsolved issues, an injured friend, and a face that really could use a shave."
A scoff. "Even now you need to make fun of me, huh?"
"I'm pretty sure that's my job," Janet chuckled lightly, as to not trigger her injuries. She hadn't missed his obvious misdirection if the conversation from it's more serious topic, but chose not to pursue it.
"You should get some sleep," he sighed. "It'll help you heal, and then get on your way."
"Where are you going to sleep?" She questioned, glancing about the room and secretly praying that he didn't have another bed to use.
He shrugged and turned to walk away. "The floor I guess."
Immediately her hand was filled with a bright pink energy. "Oh, no you don't. My body is going to be focusing it's energy on healing itself, which means I'm going to get cold, especially if I'm not moving. Now, you are going to get in this bed to warm me up right now or I will bring this whole building down. I don't need my chest or leg to use magic."
Mark turned about to stare at her incredulously. "Are you insane? I'm not sleeping with you!"
Janet returned the look with a challenge of her own. "If you hadn't run away when I tried to talk you into coming back I wouldn't be injured in the first place, so technically this is your fault. You owe me," she countered, smirking at him.
Mark sputtered incoherently for several seconds, before finding his voice. "Well you're the one who tried talking me into coming back! That's on you!"
"Oh yea, so sorry for actually caring about you," she bit back sarcastically. "I forgot that wasn't allowed after Raven-," she cut herself off abruptly as his eyes flashed dangerously, almost regretful of what she had been about to say.
However, as their eyes remained locked in silence, his seemed to almost melt, though whether it was a softening of his spirit or loss of a will to fight anymore, she couldn't tell.
But when he let out a whispered, "Fine," and trudged back over to the bed to slip in behind her, she quickly decided she didn't care. His arms wrapped about her waist and once again began to glow slightly as his healing power accelerated her recovery, and pulled her against him in a way she had thought for years would only- could only- be a dream.
"I hope you know that the only way I'm leaving is with you," she said quietly, knowing he would easily hear her with his enhanced senses.
His arms tightened. "I do."
"So you're done running from Raven?" She pressed, hope and happiness welling up inside her.
She nodded, only one question left. "Are you done running from me?"
Janet smiled in relief and contentment, and she let out a sigh as silence fell between them. This time, however, it was a silence of mutual understanding, and caring. Soon after, her eyes fell closed and she passed into sleep, held in the arms of the man she was irrevocably in love with.
And true to his word, Mark remained where he was, arms wrapped about the heroine as he gazed at her features, mind distracted by thoughts too important to let him sleep. However, there was one thing he knew by now. He could run all he wanted, but she would always catch up. After all, she was a speedstress.