Lori McDonald
May 1997
"Come back here, y' damn dragon!"
Lockheed raced down the corridor, wings flapping furiously as he tried to outrun his pursuer. Neck outstretched before him, legs tucked close, tail streaming behind him, he went around a corner, coming so close to the far wall that he had to kick off it in midflight with his hind legs.
"'iss off, Ash," he hissed.
"No way, y' li'l liar! I wan' answers!"
The little dragon shot through an open doorway, wings hugged to his body so they wouldn't hit the frame, then spread them and started flapping before gravity could pitch him into the ground.
He sprinted through the doorway after the dragon, hurdled over a couch - and Meggan's head - and out the far door, Meggan's screech sounding behind him.
He had to catch Lockheed before he got outside and could get altitude, or before Kitty caught him trying to bodytackle her pet.
He could see the open door to the outside, a golden rectangle of light that Lockheed laughed at when he saw.
He put on a burst of speed, leg muscles straining, and leaped at the dragon just as he shot out the door and arced upward.
He caught his tail, his hand slipping down its length and almost off before he could get a grip. Then the dragon squawked in surprise as his upward flight turned into a downward plummet. Twisting in his grip, his wings became a blur as he tried to get away.
He leaped onto Lockheed's back, forcing him down with his own weight. Lockheed started snapping.
"MERDE! You bite me an' I'll have Moira fix you!"
Lockheed froze and he took the opportunity to pin his wings to his side and run off into the hills with the dragon in his arms like a squirming bag of potatoes.
Once they were out of sight of the complex, he stopped.
"Okay, spill it!"
Lockheed hissed.
He fought the struggling reptile, barely keeping him pinned and receiving a plethora of scratches on his arms in the process.
"Don' give me dat! I wan' t' know why y' talk t' me an' nobody else, or if I'm jus' goin' crazy again!"
Lockheed stiffened, then relaxed. "'er not 'azy," he muttered.
He nodded and released him. The dragon dropped to the ground, then hopped onto a boulder across from the one he sat on and began to preen himself.
"I didn' t'ink I was, but you sure had me wonderin' at times." He crossed his arms. Why?"
Lockheed continued preening. "Why what?"
"Why talk t' me an' nobody else?"
Lockheed turned jewelled eyes on him. "I don' know. Yer 'ooked so lost, so empty. Maybe I 'anted ter give yer 'omethin' else ter 'ocus on. Seemed 'othin' else were really 'ettin' yer attention." His jaw dropped in a grin. "'Sides, it were fun 'istening ter yer shriek."
He snorted. "Right. An' th' name?"
The dragon shrugged. "It suited yer, an' i' anyone 'uggest 'omethin' laik 'Cute Buns" again, I were 'onna hurl."
He chuckled and uncrossed his arms, dragging one hand through his long hair. "Well, I guess I gotta t'ank y' for dat. Did I hurt you?"
The little dragon spread his wings and regarded the membranes carefully before folding them on his back. "'ope." He cocked his head to one side. "'ow 'ome yer decided ter 'ome after me now?"
He sighed, looked away, over the lonely hills of the island to the ocean beyond. "I keep havin' nightmares," he admitted. It wasn't something he found easy to talk about, even to Rogue, who held him each night in the aftermath of them. "You're in dem."
Lockheed blinked, his tail twitching. "What 'appens?"
"Voices... people... askin' what my name is."
"It's Ash," Lockheed told him with conviction.
He smiled. "That's what you say in de dreams, right b'fore y' burn me."
"Well, that's a bloody pisser, 'ow ain't it?"
"Yeah. I was hopin' dat talkin' t' y' would get dem t' stop."
Lockheed's jaw dropped in a grin. "Well, I 'ope they do, an' that wanker Wisdom 'ets 'em instead."
His lip twisted, somewhat glad to be changing the subject. Talking about the nightmares had brought flashes of them back. Not the bits with Lockheed in them, ironically enough, but those of Magneto, wearing an inhibitor collar. Now he felt depressed again.
"Why y' hate Pete so much?" He asked halfheartedly.
The little dragon growled, flickers of flame escaping from his muzzle. It was an angry sound, a hateful sound, and his eyes widened, his heart pounding.
Lockheed realized he was about to bolt and made an obvious effort to calm himself. He folded his wings close against his back and crouched low on the rock, claws clenching it tightly.
"'E's 'akin' Kitty from me," he grated.
He ran a hand through his hair. "But- Kitty loves you, doesn' she?"
"'ot th' way I wan' her to."
He considered that, tried to see things from the little dragon's point of view. It was a remarkably simple thing to do, considering it was so close to his situation. Separate from everyone around them, him by trauma, Lockheed by form. Reaching out, but still apart, forever different.
His head bowed, eyes closing. "Y' never tried t' make her love y' de way y' want? Never talked t' her?"
"What 'ould be th' point?" Lockheed sighed bitterly. "I don' wan' ter take th' chance... that 'er 'eelin's fer me'll change... if she finds out I'm now who she thought. Even bein' treated like a pet's better'n nothin'."
Oh, he understood that, understood it so well. Rogue had no idea who he really was. He was a horrible man, a terrible man. He deserved what Sinister had done to him.
He took a deep, shuddering breath. He'd never thought of that before. Moira had been working on giving him his identity back, but he doubted she'd intended for him to gain enough of one to realize just how much he hated himself.
"Are 'ou all right?" Lockheed asked.
He looked up at him through his hair and faked a smile. "I'm fine."
Lockheed sighed. "Promise yer 'on't tell Kitty?"
"I promise."
"'anks, mate." His tail flicked from side to side. "Yer think yer nightmares gorna stop now?"
A vision of Sinister pushing Magneto beneath a pool of blood hit him so hard he grunted. "I don' know."
"Well, if yer think 'alkin' 'bout it'll help, talk ter me, or anyone in Excalibur. 'Cept Pete. 'e's a wanker." He looked back towards the complex. "I 'otta go. Kitty'll be 'orried." His jaw dropped. "Nice 'alkin' ter you, Ash."
He watched the little dragon fly off, stood and walked the other way, through the hills to the crumbly cliffs above the ocean. It was a route he'd taken many times. When he'd first come to Muir Island, still in shock from what Sinister did to him and Rogue, he'd walked here daily. Moira had always sent someone with him, afraid he'd try to kill himself. It'd been a waste of effort; he hadn't cared enough to bother. Now, she trusted him, and he wanted to keep walking.
Right off the edge of the cliff.