Seven Deadly Sins

Chapter Four
Heart of Vengeance

Sam watched her brother give his cursory observation of the room- the other soldier, Apocalypse, was off by the farthest door, guarding, listening for any intruders. Sam sighed in exasperation. She knew John was thinking about that girl again. Natalie. He always looked uneasy and pleased in a guilty way when he was thinking about her. Like he was afraid of being caught looking at child porn or something. Sam despised that girl. John's girlfriend had only been twelve years old when she'd managed to permanently fuck up John's life, but Sam knew that he'd been lost long before that, when he'd first laid eyes on the girl. The little bitch. After Natalie showed up, there was no way Sam's brother was going to quit the Marines and come back to her.

"Stop it, John," she snapped, inserting a disk into the computer. "That whore has no place in this lab."

"Don't you. Ever. Talk about Natalie like that." Reaper snarled, listening absently to the conversations over the comm. link. How dare Sam talk about Natalie like that? Natalie was his angel, his savior, his saving grace. She'd kept him sane all this time, kept him alive and whole. She'd patched his torn and ragged soul back back together so many times over the years...

"She's torn you apart, John," Sam said softly, transferring the data to the disks. "She's ripped apart your soul."

"She put my soul back together."

"She seduced you when you were eighteen." Reaper ignored that last part, though he felt a stab of guilt. Sam had to have done the math and realized how old Natalie was when she'd "seduced" him. Sam had to know how hideously guilty her brother felt about that. He'd been so weak, so pathetically weak, to give in and make love to her then, when she'd clung to him so desperately. It hadn't been seduction. It had been love, and fear, and confusion, on both their parts, and monumental guilt on his part.

--

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, baby, oh, God," he whispers, but he can't stop driving into her slickness, her beautiful velvet heat, he can't ever stop until he's spent, but she's so young and this is wrong, he shouldn't be doing this, she's too young, but she's wrapping her legs around his waist and bucking her hips to take him deeper inside her. "I"m so sorry, so sorry, baby, so sorry, I can't, I can't, can't, I'm sorry..."

"Don't stop, John, please, for the love of God, don't stop, please!" Natalie's hands on his body, caressing and petting, her mouth planting sweet kisses on his shoulders and face, whispered words of love and pleasure in his ears but it's still so fucking wrong for him to be doing this to her and no one can know but he has to tell but he didn't mean to hurt her he loves her but no one will believe that.

"Oh, God, John, yes, yes, oh, yes, please, oh!" Her sweet voice crying out as she moves beneath him, as she presses her breasts and her stomach and her hips against him, as his throbbing cock sinks deep into her delicious wet, as he feels her come, feels the sweet wetness of her pleasure splash over him and he finds release inside her.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm so fucking sorry..."

"I love you, John. It's all right, I love you."

--

He shuddered at the memory, at the achingly sweet pleasure, at the bitter guilt he can taste cloying on his tongue.

"It wasn't seduction, it was... she needed comfort. I was the one that turned it into sex." Sam just scoffed in disgust and leapt to her feet, going to the other desk to insert a disk in the second computer. "Sam-"

"She fucking seduced you. I saw it in your memories, John. You told her to stop-"

"She knew I didn't want her to."

--

Natalie's tongue reaching out to lick him like a lollipop, a warm, wet touch against his aching shaft. Reaper shudders and clutches his blanket, groaning and gasping. Her sweet, sweet mouth closes over him and she slides down and takes him in, as far as she possibly can, and her mouth is hot and so generously wet and she's sucking him and he's moaning like he's about to die and begging her to stop and not to stop and to go away and never leave and she sucks him and sucks him, her tongue stroking him up and down, base to tip to base to tip to base, and his hands are tangled in her hair and he's thrusting his hips because he can't stop and she knows it and she wants him to give it up to her and he's coming in her mouth and she's swallowing him and swallowing and he's groaning and spent and she's smiling at him, emerald green cat eyes bright with happiness.

--

"I didn't want her stop and she knew it. It was always me, Sam, it was never her. She only did what I wanted."

"Don't fucking lie to me, John. Just... do whatever it is you're supposed to do!" Reaper let his twin sister cool off for a minute while she surveyed the data transfer. When the high spots of color had faded from her cheeks, he looked away, towards the door.

"Sam, I love her." She was silent. "Sam?"

"I know you do, John. I just wish you didn't."

--

It hadn't been a lie, that he'd been the one to turn it into sex. Natalie had been sobbing in his arms, her face buried in his chest. Oh, he remembered, still he remembered. Her fists had clutched at his t-shirt and he'd damned himself because there was nothing, not a thing, that he could do to make her feel better. She'd calmed down, he'd made her dinner. All the while he'd been in a frustrating and guilty state of arousal, wanting her so much, knowing he couldn't have. Imagining, letting himself daydream, about sliding her up the wall and shoving himself inside her, thrusting into her slick, wet heat until she screamed and came around him, her body clenching his hard, her head thrown back, completely blissed while he came inside her, filling her with himself.

--

He remembers when he finally did take her against the wall, finally slid inside her, her thighs spread so he could watch himself disappear inside her tight, slick heat, watch her head fall back against the wall as he began to move inside her, cock plunging deep inside, slowly pulling out, shoving deep and fast and hard again. Listening to her sweet cries. Taking her beautiful breast in his mouth, worrying her nipple with his teeth, nipping and licking and sucking as he thrusts into her with wild abandon, as she presses his head to her breast and moans and whimpers, her long, ebony curls falling around them both in a silken curtain to hide their passion from a world that would never understand.

--

But at the time they'd only been daydreams, only fantasies. He would never have allowed himself actual physical intimacy with her, he'd sworn it to himself, never, not ever, not in a million years.

And then, for some foolish, goddamned reason, he'd kissed her.

--

His lips touch hers for the briefest moments, savoring the salty-sweet taste of tears on her lips. That isn't what he wants to do to her, though. He wants to feast on her, devour her, crawl inside her mouth with his lips and tongue and teeth and cock and body and stay inside of her heat and light and life forever. And as soon as the thought rushes through his head like the blood through his veins, hot and wanting, he breaks away from her, gasping for breath, cursing viciously under his breath, hating himself, loving her.

"Natalie, I... I can't-"

But she puts her hand on his arm, and her touch burns him. He pulls her to him, kisses her until she is weak and breathless, makes love to her there on the kitchen floor, damning himself the entire time. He's so careful, she's so young, so innocent, he's been so afraid of hurting her, but he doesn't, and she cries his name and begs for more, and he gives it to her.

--

For nine years, he'd given it to her.

He loved her, and one day, he knew, that love would probably kill him.

That is, if Sarge didn't find out just how young Natalie had been when she and Reaper had made love for the very first time, there on that cool, linoleum floor. Because then Sarge would kill him first.

--

"Wondered when you were gonna show." Apocalypse watched Nemesis out of the corner of her eye as she sank down into a crouch by the nanowall, and smiled when the other girl glanced towards the part of the research lab she was hidden from. Reaper was in there, Apocalypse knew the young woman could feel him, like a soft, pulsing, graveyard-cold fire brushing along her skin. Apocalypse watched Nemesis, who didn't so much as give her a second glance, as she pressed her palms and her body against the wall that kept her from view.

Are you really gonna do this here? Now? Apocalypse demanded.

I need him.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Shush the fuck up, Magdalena!

You know, I may be half-Mexican, but that doesn't mean- And suddenly Apocalypse was directing her thoughts at a wall made of smooth, polished bone, without a single chink in it. Nemesis was shielding from her. The ex-whore snapped a mildly sulky thought at her, Fine. Be that way.

--

John.

Oh, God, her voice. Her voice in his head. Like the taste of red wine flooding his mouth, pouring down his throat. Her voice wrapping around him, bringing back so many memories. Memories of nights spent tangled in silk sheets, bodies hot and pulsing and slick with sweat, her ebony curls cascading around them both, her green cat eyes darkening with pleasure to a rich green that was almost black as he finally slid into her after so much desperate waiting, her sweet, intoxicating body his only safe haven.

John.

Her long, slender legs around his waist, her breasts crushed against his hot, sweat-slicked chest, her nails raking down his back as he gave her sweet, sweet pleasure. He could hear her voice, screaming in ecstasy, sobbing as orgasmic pleasure rocked through her, whispering his name before they both gave it up and climaxed with each other.

Why was she here?

Natalie. What are you doing here?

I'm here to protect you. I won't let you die on me, and Screamer said that, if we don't help you guys, none of you are going to come back from this place. So, here we all are. The whole unit. We're your back up, if you ever need us.

I need you, he moaned into her mind. Natalie, I need you.

He did. He needed to be in her arms, feel her gentle kisses on his face and neck and shoulders and chest. Feel her hands caressing his shoulders, his chest, his belly. See the love and ultimate adoration for him in her dark, dark eyes. Inhale her beautiful scent of night-bloom jasmine and chamomile, so soothing.

I miss you, John.

You saw me yesterday. He was thinking, even as he spoke, that he missed her, too, so much. Hell, we made love yesterday.

I know, it's been a whole day. I need some undead love. Smiling, the unbearable passion subsiding into something lighter, sweeter, he murmured, Undead love? He laughed softly, and she cried, What's so funny?

You're funny.

Oh, bite me.

Gladly. I love biting you. You always respond so well to it.

John, wonderful John, there's something here. Something evil. It will kill you if it can.

--

Nemesis rested her cheek against the smooth, chrome steel wall. Just being so near to John, smelling his cologne and his natural scent, hearing his laugh rumble through his chest, seeing the light in his hazel eyes, it was almost unbearable. He was so close, and she couldn't touch him, not even take his hand.

I don't plan on dying, Natalie.

No one ever does.

Angel... I'll be all right.

You can't promise me that. These creatures... they're demons, they're nearly impossible to kill. Screamer and I are taking care of some of them, but you and the boys need to be very, very careful. Please, John. Please.

Natalie...

Screamer saw it, John. Every single one of you died. Mac's head was ripped off, the Kid had been shot in the throat, Portman's neck was broken, Goat's skull was smashed in. Destroyer'd been beaten to death, Duke had been sliced like lunch meat. Daddy had been eaten alive, John, and you... God, John, I saw you die. I was part of that dream, that vision, John, you bled to death in my arms. She felt his arms around her, but it was only phantom touch. It couldn't stop the shivers running through her body at the memory of his dream death. But the sharp smell of his cologne in her nose, the feel of his heart pounding against her back, as if he truly held her, soothed her at least a little.

Sweetheart-

Please be careful, John. I don't want to lose you, not after waiting so long to finally be together.

I'll admit that nine years is a long time to wait. But you're twenty, it's not like, if I die, you couldn't find anyone else. Even though the thought of her being with anyone else made his blood burn and his vision turn red.

John! I would never!

I'm just teasing you, angel. But it's not like we waited nine years to fuck. He said it sarcastically, but he had felt those years just as strongly as she had. And he'd felt those nine years of guilty pleasure even more strongly than Natalie.

Don't make me come over there and sit on your white-boy ass. A familiar threat, never seriously meant.

I love you, Natalie.

I know, John. She brushed a phantom kiss across his lips. I love you, too. Don't you dare die on me. She pushed the tower of bone back up into her mind and turned away from the wall she'd been leaning against. She blinked back tears. She prayed she could change the future, the future of all the boys, not just her John. But Screamer, her talented, tormented twin sister, had never, ever been wrong.