Scarlett War

CHAPTER FIVE - HEALING

William Pierson - Sergeant

I could admit I was a lot of things.

Stupid was not one of them.

When we took Marigny, Maximoff was injured pretty badly when the church fell. After that, when the planes got to close, her injury split open.

Blood was pooling around her, but she found the strength to be helped to her feet and worked on from there.

She had lifted her jacket up slightly, and I grimaced seeing how bad it looked. I swear, I saw bone or muscle. She was covered in blood, and the floor around her was too. She was in pain, but, looked like she was in some sort of shock.

I knew then she would be off in the medic bay for at least a few months, and would have troubles with it for a while. Also, a blood transplant was necessary for the amount she lost.

And then, within a week, she was tussling with the boys.

I was patrolling the campsite, making sure everything was in order and occasionally barking orders at lounging men.

I rounded a corner and stopped in my tracks.

Maximoff was there, standing upright, with a large smile on her face. The four boys were around her, also grinning, and looking pretty ecstatic.

She and Zussman were throwing pretend punches at each other, and I could tell from afar that they were conversating on something of the sort. She grinned as he reached out and held his shoulder.

Zussman's mouth moved as he spoke to her; I could tell she didn't like what he had just said, a glare fell upon her face.

Aiello asked her a question, and she responded with a dark smirk and raising her eyebrows. Then, her hands went to her jacket, lifting it up.

Underneath was, obviously, her stomach. I tried to ignore the fact that she was showing skin and more on what donned it.

There was a large scar, still a light purple, diagonal across her skin.

My eyes widened when I realized that the bruising was almost faded completely. The scar was fading, too, and it barely even looked like she had been mutilated a week ago.

The boys noticed this, shocked expressions on their young faces. Zussman looked disgruntled, as a similar incident left him hospitalized for seven weeks.

I moved in closer, wanting to hear what they were saying. "Wait, wait, that's not possible," Stiles waved his hand, "that shouldn't be healed already."

She smiled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I know. But I think lucks on my side . . ."

I scoffed. Luck. Luck was surviving that damn blast or surviving a building crumbling on you. Not a heavy wound healing within days.

Even then, there was no possible way any of it was just on luck. I could see it in her eyes when she was lying about something big.

"How come I had to spend seven damn weeks in the bay, and you're walking around after one?" Zussman looked cheated, and the pathetic expression on his face was laughable.

"Cause," she replied smoothly, but it sounded forced as if she was planning this. "I'm a fast healer." A mischievous look came over her eyes and she moved in on him.

Zussman was about to reply, when Maximoff swung her leg around, slamming it into his previously uninjured side. He doubled over, but she grabbed his arm and swung it into an arm-bar.

I raised my eyebrows. That was. . . pretty impressive. I had never seen a woman be able to do that to one of my boys, especially one with a big ego of Zussman.