O Macbeth [it hurts already]
O Macbeth: I will write about how my character kills yours
**she’s not with child because I just. NO**
Emma was numb. Not just because she was in her diamond form now but because she just couldn’t feel. She hadn’t meant to do anything. It was like junior high and college all rolled into one bloody trainwreck and she couldn’t stop it.
“Wake up.” She pinched her arm, squeezing eyes shut. The crystallized tear rolled down her hard cheekbone shattering to the ground. Funny, that’s what was going to happen to her if she couldn’t hold this shift. If she couldn’t keep it longer than she had in years. It had all happened so fast. And she wasn’t even sure how but he laid there, unmoving.
Like a rubber band snapping back, her creamy porcelain flesh took over, and she gasped. Pulling his head into her lap, Emma brushed the strands from his face. If she’d of known he was there, maybe just maybe she wouldn’t have done it. It was her or the attackers. Mutant rioters. Caught once again. Only she hadn’t been helpless until they’d backed her into a corner. No Bucky to swoop in. She hadn’t even known…If she had…
The smoke or whatever they’d tossed at her hadn’t helped much. She thought she was alone. Thought one blast enough to render them dead would work…She didn’t. She remembered seeing past the haze, watching him drop and his name tearing from her lip in a scream. She’d moved faster than she ever had, sliding beside him. Thinking–hoping she could fix it. Restart it. Something. Guilt. Emma Grace Frost hadn’t felt this guilty in years. And she hated it.
Tears, fast and painful leaked from her eyes and she willed herself to stop. To not feel. She wanted to be heartless but she couldn’t. “Please…” She mumbled, fingers brushing the clammy and cold. Her body hunched over she rocked back and forth holding him tightly to her chest.
She’d come just…Why did things like this happen to her? She might not have been the most morally right person–not that she cared–but this?
Something inside her broke, more than her heart. But actually broke. She hadn’t let go of his body even though people were starting to come. Her tears turned into sobs, quiet except for a few gasping breaths and she clutched him, face hanging before his. “Wake up…please..” She begged and maybe if she’d been more religious she would have prayed, cursed God out or something of that nature but she knew better. She wasn’t going to plead with something she didn’t believe in.
She rocked back and forth, mumbling how sorry she was, how if she’d knowing. Over and over again. “You can’t…” She murmured into his hair, “Wake up, Ciaran..Please, wake up. I need you.” She swallowed another choking sob. She could hear people approaching, one might have even touched her shoulder. Made no difference. She could feel the lack of brain activity but that didn’t stop her pleas with him. “No, no…” her body shook with tears, “I love you,” She stated, her hands gripping him. “You can’t leave…we were” she couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Someone tried to pull her off of him. Help maybe. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” it was a hiss. Cold and full of venom. She wasn’t going to let anyone touch her or him. The hand disappeared and she sat there, dust and soot covering her clothing.
This was first and the vowed last time she’d ever be seen like this. Every mutant rioter, every protester would answer to her now. She didn’t care if it meant having to face SHIELD or the whoever tried to stop her. They were going to die, slow painful deaths and she was going to make sure of it.
