Disclaimer: Mine is mine, while Marvel's is Marvel's!

A loud explosion rocked Cannonball nearly off his feet. He struggled to remain standing, but to no avail. He crashed to the ground, but rolled out of the way, just as a blast of plasma energy burnt the spot where his head had been two seconds ago to cinders.

Sam struggled to breathe, his heart pounding in his ears. He continued the forward motion of his roll, bringing him to his feet and running toward the predetermined meeting point. Blast of fire followed him, and he ducked behind a conveniently placed out cropping of rocks.

He pressed himself deeper into the darkness, willing his pursers away. Sweat dribbled down his face and he reached up a hand to brush it away. When he pulled his hand away, he was shocked to see his yellow glove stained with crimson.

He swallowed hard, knotting his hand into a fist to hide the blood from his sight. The pounding of feet assaulted his ears, and every one of his senses went on full alert. He even tried to calm the pounding of his heart, afraid that the noise would tip them off to his hiding place.

"You see the mutie?" One voice, coarse and low growled.

"Nah---must have went the other way." The other voice was lighter, younger. Sam winced when he realized that the speaker couldn't be any older then he was.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that, while his pursers were excellent shots (the cut on his forehead, and the other numerous lacerations attested to that fact), they did not have much on patience or common sense.

Of course, it might be a set up. Better stay low until back up shows. Sam's battle honed instincts told him, and Sam listened. He grinned mirthlessly when he realized that his "battle instincts" sounded like Cable.

The young man slowly slid into a squat, prepared to wait until the rest of his teammates showed up. However, that could be anywhere from ten minutes to several hours---he had no way of calling for back up. The communicator on his wrist frizzed and sputtered, completely unusable.

They were very good shots. Sam mused, fingering his wrist lightly. The young man sighed, and laid his head back on the rocks, allowing his eyes to slip shut for a moment.

The musty smell of the old cave invaded his senses, and he opened his eyes for a moment. This place reminded him of an old cave back home, where he had used to go and play.

Another memory of that cave reached his mind, and he swallowed hard. He had taken Tabitha there, the first time she had gone with him back to his childhood home. He struggled to keep his mind off what had happened there; he would need his wits about him to get out of here, not muffled by thoughts of his sweet Tabitha.

But once he began to think of her, he found it difficult to stop. She was like a drug to him, he could never get enough of her. Another memory of another cave broke through the surface of his mind.

The time he and Tabitha, along with the rest of X-Force had had their headquarters in a cave. One night in particular, when she had crept into the infirmary to check on him, stuck out in his mind. Sighing softly, he gave himself up to the memory, letting himself be drawn under by the wave of love that struck him.

Ah miss her. Sam thought to himself, after he had been able to resurface from the memories. Ah miss her TOO much.

The young man swallowed hard, recognizing the turn his thoughts had taken. He had been thinking about this a lot lately. He'd been thinking about how hard it was to leave her, to get up out of the bed they shared. He found himself, more and more, just wanting to hold her, even when he had more pressing concerns.

She had become one of his reasons for living. She was the reason he did what he did. She was his everything. And that scared him.

He wasn't afraid of commitment; he was just so afraid of losing her. She was half of his soul, half of his heart. He wanted her; he needed her; he loved her more then anything.

He loved her more then he loved his own life.

He would die for her, would sell his soul for her. He knew that, and he hoped she did to.

But Ah haven't told her, so how can she know? Sam realized, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. Ah need to tell her---and God willing---Ah will!

Sam knew what he was going to do now, what he needed to ask his beloved Tabitha. A soft smile played on the corner of his lips.

He could see his---their---children when she smiled at him the way she did. And he knew, knew deep down in his heart that Tabitha was the one he wanted, wanted for all time.

Now all he had to do was make it out of here alive, so he could ask her to be his wife. Darkchilde's Stories