Operation: Anansesem

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

The repercussions of an action from months ago finally makes itself known.



It was warm. Warmer than it had any right to be in December. And while there was some rain, it was not the rain from the other night - the icy, biting blasts of air that had chased them from the streets and into their hotel for the night. This rain offered no comfort from the heat and gave only moisture that clung, humidity at its worse and most offensive.

She couldn't breathe but it wasn't from the weather or the hands on her shoulders. It was a reaction from the accusing stares of the two people huddled around her as she forced her shaking hands toward the wall. It was the fear and excitement that bubbled up in her throat to choke her.

No, the weather of her homeland held no comfort for her but it held no pain either.

That honor was held for others.

Pain exploded like dried kindling deep within her chest so suddenly that at first Wanda could make no sound. Her body arched off the bed, the sheets soaked in sudden sweat, as her back spasmed in response. It felt like a heart attack but worse, especially when the sensation spread. Her head throbbed in time to a heart that wasn't even hers as her own sped up under the assault.

And then she was screaming, the cries loud and sudden in the night, and thrashing, almost tumbling from the bed.

It was rare that Marie-Ange was the one being woken up by someone else's nightmares. She was up and had the lights on before she was fully awake, and certainly before she realized it was Wanda making that horrible noise. And then she was shaking the older woman's shoulders, not quite sure how she'd gotten from 'fumbling for a light switch' to 'trying to untangle Wanda from a sheet and wake her up' at the same time without having fallen over furniture.

There was a noise from the small common area and Amanda appeared, hair sticking up every which way and rubbing her eyes in the sudden brightness of the bedroom. As the shortest, she tended to get the couch in whatever hotel suite they managed to grab. "What's going on?" she asked, voice thick and scratchy, before she really took in the scene in front of her. "Wanda?" She barely registered movement behind her as Farouk appeared at her shoulder.

Amahl ran his hand through his face and into his hair, in a futile attempt to rid himself of the last vestiges of sleep. He succeeded only in making himself looking even more as a psychotic prophet who had just had an extremely unpleasant conversation with the Almighty. His blanket (decorated with polka dotted monkeys dancing) grasped loosely about him like a (very cheerful) toga, Farouk glared mutinous disgust at the clock from under the crazed hair, before turning toward the spectacle in Wanda's bedroom.

He sobered instantly, two strides carrying him toward the bed. The woman twisted beneath him, and bit down as his finger and thumb forced her jaw open. Farouk ignored the pain, pushing the hairbrush's handle between Wanda's teeth to prevent her biting off her own tongue.

"Do we have sedatives?"

Hands were holding her down and pain blossomed under the touch. Wanda wrenched herself out from underneath them to roll over, almost off the bed, as she retched, the hairbrush going flying. For a moment it felt like her heart was going to be ripped out from her chest but then, like a stretched rubber band, the pain snapped away.

She was left panting and clutching the side of the bed as she finished emptying her stomach out onto the horrible carpet of the hotel room. Sweat stung her eyes and she blinked, feeling as if she wasn't where she was supposed to be for a moment.

"I think it is some kind of .... " Marie-Ange cut herself off as Wanda stopped spasming and shaking and spat out a mouthful of hair. "Wanda?" Maybe it wasn't a seizure. It had certainly seemed like one for a few moments. "Amanda, can you get towels?" Because she wasn't about to budge until she knew it hadn't been a seizure, in case Wanda started convulsing again.

Amanda nodded, disappearing into the suite's tiny bathroom and returning again with an armful of towels and a damp facecloth. She dropped to her knees next to Wanda, dumping the towels on the puddle of vomit and gently reaching out to touch Wanda's shoulder. "Wanda?" she asked hesitantly, worried herself about setting off another attack. "You all right?"

Normally, Wanda would have returned the touch by placing her hand on Amanda's but she shied away. Skin felt raw and worn and she shook her head, trying to clear it. She murmured something, spat when nothing came out and tried again.

"Monona Konmlan," Wanda grated, falling back into the sheets. "Monona. Something's happened but I don't understand..."

"Monona?" Amanda frowned. That name was well-known on their occult network; the woman was a central point for their African research. "I don't get it. What do you mean?"

Wanda shook her head, looking desperate and still in some pain. "More than that. Shadow King," she hissed, a hand hovering over her heart. "She was one of three, remember, who gave me her Name." Her chest contracted and she stopped for a moment until she could draw breath in. "It's all wrong. Very, very wrong."

Farouk fought the urge to recoil from the bed as if it was a rattlesnake, as the words struck him. Inside him there sudden, towering silence as his shadow froze, apparently as shocked as he was. Amahl felt the eyes of the others on himself and stood with careful measured slowness, retreating partway to the door. "I shall go put a kettle on, I think. And raid the First Aid kit." Clutching the blanket about himself with a valiant attempt to retain some sort of dignified control of the situation he inclined his head slightly at the other three. "Feel free to talk amongst yourselves."

Marie-Ange made a face as Farouk's back as he left the room. She stood and walked over to where she'd stowed her bookbag and began digging through it. "Wanda, am I going to have to pretend to be intimidating to make you take some kind of painkiller?" She wasn't even going to offer the 'good' stuff, just extra-strength over-the-counter headache pills. "I am not even going to suggest you try to go back to sleep. I know better."

Back at home it was a trial to get Wanda to take anything, including simple aspirin. Now, though, she simply held out a hand silently towards the French woman, accepting the fact that she was in far too much pain still to think clearly without some help. And if anyone was to have the kind of drugs to help, it would be Marie-Ange. She looked towards Amanda, saying, "This isn't normal. Can you go and find something out...?"

Amanda nodded. "If it's to do with the Shadow King business, this isn't something a hospital can deal with. I'll track down Strange." Her expression didn't lose the slightly haunted look, however. "You rest. We'll sort this out."