Disclaimer: Last I heard, they belonged to Marvel. You know the rest. Note that this is darker than the typical light 'n tasty stuff I usually dish up. I promised this to a fictive and I honour my promises.

She hung there, the hazy light showing pale, almost transparent skincriss-crossed with scars. The dreary gloom seemed to rise up around her legs, clutching at her like a blind leper, twisting up to her almost unnaturally thin stomach and boyish chest, skin pulled tight over ribs like a drum. Further up, blue eyes shone with suppressed tears and determination over high Slavic cheekbones in a face that was surrounded a halo of blonde hair that caught what little light there was and added an almost unearthly quality to her face.

This might have been an angel.

A saviour.

A martyr.

But she was simply a sufferer. No more and no less. She had her own personal demons just like everyone else... she just had more of them.

She hung there, slumped in the chains that bound her, with not even enough energy to raise her head. That last beating had been pretty bad. In the muffled silence there was a quiet noise. The sound of one heart slowly breaking. Breathing in short, barely contained sobs, she fought to retain control through the pain. Focus. Focus.

There. Painfully she raised her head, determined not to bend, not to break. She was ready for them. She. Would. Not. Break. Even if it would be so easy to just accept, to obey... to stop living. Give up... Never!

Proudly she regarded the barren landscape as if she was the ruler of all she surveyed, her face as calm as that of a porcelain doll's. The scenery sluggishly churned.

Movement. She noticed movement through the perpetual miasma and automatically flinched away, anticipating the return of S'ym. No! She forced herself to raise her head back up again, intense blue eyes blazing with proud defiance. She would *not* show her fear. She would be brave just like Pyotr taught her.

A large hulking figure started to move out of the gloom.

She met it's gaze calmly, even as her trembling betrayed her.

"Little Snowflake"

Pyotr?

He moved out of the Stygian depths, looking down at her with sad eyes.

"Little Snowflake, what have they done to you?"

"Pyotr!" She *knew* her would come to rescue her. Even through the worst she had clung to this knowledge. He. Would. Save. Her. "Quickly! Break the chains and let's get out of here." He was her hope.

He raised a large hand to softly caress her cheek. "Little Snowflake." And faded.

"Pyotr! Nooooooooo! Wait!"

Her hope was gone.

No hope.

No hope.