The annoying buzz of florescent lights irritated her ears even as she became aware of an only too familiar burning within her body. Grinding her teeth together she opened her eyes a crack and looked around carefully.

The fuzzy white figures standing clustered together a short distance off spoke softly, professionally. Their discussion was in medical terms, emotionless as though they were discussing the weather, or a cadaver. Behind them on screens were what was obviously X-rays of a skeleton laced with metal.

Letting her eyes close, she inhaled slowly before sinking back into the warmth of unconsciousness.


When she surfaced again the distinct sound of men’s voices next to her raced through her mind and body. Snarling in anger she lay listening to them, unease and fear warring with rage and hatred within her heart.

“She’s completely unresponsive. We’ve tried every stimuli and so far the subject had been stoically silent. We’ve run the simple tests and she’s a healthy specimen.”

“Capable of reproduction?”

“All indications are that she is capable. Our estimations put her at full reproductive maturity. She has not however, ovulated recently so we may need to induce her body.”

“Excellent. Put her in block D. We’ll check with the others before continuing with the next round of tests.”

“Yes sir.”


Jerked to her feet she glared at the two young guards flanking her. She barely flinched as they pulled her along alternating between walking and groping her. Ignoring the desire to slice and dice, she focused instead on locating a familiar scent to confirm or deny the presence of other mutants.

Catching no sound or scent to reveal the whereabouts of those she’d fought beside she turned instead to her own survival. Trudging along she counted every door they past, every guard post, and stored that information for later.

“Hey darlin’ how about a little fun?” one guard suggested squeezing her nearly naked breast. “We all need a little relaxation from time to time.”

“Yeah. It’d just be us. You know you’ll enjoy it. All you mutie freaks are into this sorta thing.”

Growling under her breath she followed wordlessly. She knew from experience that struggling only made matters worse. Besides, these two were young, green, and probably inexperienced in torture. All she really had to worry about with these two was rape - a rather unpleasant occurrence but still better than the torture.

Pushing the longing to see a tall, dark haired man in red sunglasses to the back of her mind, she kept moving. The clang of the cell door had her glancing around quickly. It the few seconds to look around she saw the familiar shackling, the cold, impersonal cement bunk and the thick cattle prods leaning against the wall.

The acrid mixture of semen and blood soaked the air and she felt her stomach twist. Standing still in the middle of the room she barely felt the chill of the shackles going on, instead she focused inward finding and turning off the switch to keep her sanity intact.

She was no longer a grown woman, but a small, defenseless child watching as the other females around her were abused, tortured. She could hear the screams of the Father, hear the roars of agony, of degradation, and pain and a small kernel of rage grew within her. She would not become like those who had fallen before her, she would not allow herself to be so weak.



Trotting through the lush underbrush in silence a lone male eyed the wire encircled buildings from a knoll. Hunkered down he watched the guards moving through the darkness. Quick, ruthless eyes assessed the scene, counting men, evaluating strengths, weaknesses.

Sniffing at the air he sneered at the rich, metallic odor that soaked the air. Growing at the faint screams of pain he slid backwards into the shadows. He knew there were more out there, knew that she had not been aware of all who had survived…he would find them.

Raising his head he howled into the darkness, sending forth a cry of rage that would summon those who recognized it. He listened to the night, a slight smile crossing his face as he heard an answering howl.

He would watch over her. He would get her out of that place and then he would kill all who’d dared to harm her.


The oppressive heat of late day woke him. Stretching and yawning like an overgrown cat he moved into position to observe. He would wait for just the right moment before he launched an attack.

The army would see the value of their investments, and regret them for the briefest of moments before he killed them. He listened to the faint screams through out the day, hearing the agony and the rage within them.

Tensing he stared hard as he saw two guards approach an open pit. Moving downwind of the men silently, quickly he inhaled the fresh aroma of blood, of the essence of men, and pain.

He watched in silence as they tossed their burden into the pit and hurried back to the buildings. Stalking through the growth he moved closer to the pit, using the natural cover to hide his presence.

With a furious growl he hunkered down, he would have to wait until darkness to know what they’d discarded. Eyes flashing in the shadows he watched two new men and a tall, beautiful red haired woman get out of a vehicle. Wrath scratched at his throat as he caught the scent of the woman.

“Traitorous monster.” He snarled his teeth clashing together. He watched as the woman smiled charmingly at the men, as she walked inside without a concern and licked his lips. Whatever pain his littermate had endured this monster would feel. She would bear the marks of her treachery for all to see.

As silent as the fog he drifted back into deeper cover and waited for the darkness to fall. Hunched over beside a boulder he growled low in his throat a moment before a tall, broad shouldered, heavily muscled male jumped to the ground a few feet away from his position.

“Where?”

“In there.” He grunted nodding at the buildings as the lights began to glow within the darkness.

“Hurt?”

He glanced to his right and stared at the red eyes glowing back at him. “Come.” Leading the way he moved toward the pit. After a quick glance around he hopped down and rifled through the trash that had been added throughout the day. An enraged roar erupted from his chest as he lifted the cold, shriveled remains of what had obviously been wings up for his littermate to see.

The answering snarl from the other male only added to their shared rage. Taking the wings from the pit, they cursed the monsters beyond the wire.

Examining them he whimpered as he realized that they hadn’t been cut off, they’d merely been ripped from her body like a claw or a tooth. The ragged, gory ends still carried her scent, her blood, her essence.

“Kill.”

“Play!”

“Others be here soon.”

Nodding quickly he laid the torn appendages back into the pit and stared at them for a moment before darting back into cover. No point in alerting anyone to their presence just yet!

Jean closed the front door of the mansion and breathed a sigh of relief. For now the army was focused on their retrieved Weapon and that meant the students, the X-Men were safe. She glanced up at a soft giggle, her eyes searching the foyer. Catching the faint light from the rec room she moved toward it and paused in the doorway.

Sitting side by side on the couch were Rogue and Logan. Recently, they’d gotten back from wherever the hell they’d gone after the battle. In the ten days they’d been back, Jean had been on the chilly end of their affection. Neither spoke to her unless it was about work or a mission, and she had to admit she missed the harmless flirting Logan had often engaged in with her in the past.

“You two are up late.”

“Not really.” Rogue replied as Logan pulled her closer to him. “You’re getting in awfully late. Your boyfriend wear you out?”

“I was working. Someone’s got to protect the students.”

The pair on the couch glanced sharply at her, skepticism on their faces. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan ground out.

“Nothing. I’m sorry. Good night.” Jean waved off their stares and hurried up the stairs. Slipping into the rooms she shared with Scott, Jean headed for a quick shower then bed.

“Did you get what you went after?”

“They’ve forgotten we ever existed.”

“I don’t like this.” Scott rolled over and sat up, his gaze on his wife. “You realize that if Logan even thinks you’ve talked to the military about that girl he’s gonna rip you apart.”

“Logan won’t ever find out. Besides, I left him completely out of the discussion. I merely said that’d I believed she was headed north. That she’d attacked us and the army that night and had vanished afterwards. They seemed to believe me.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” Scott sighed as Jean stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. “Because, if you’re wrong, Jean, you may have sentenced all of us to death, at Logan and Rogue’s hands.”



Flexing her fingers she wondered if she could use a nail or a claw to cut the chain. Concentrating hard she extended her nails only to find the angle wouldn’t let her get any damage in the chains. They’d been smart in their manner of restrictions - neither nail nor claw would release her.

Struggling against the chains, she barely felt them bite into her wrists. Instead she growled and snarled at the restrictions, her ears telling her the guards were returning.

“Aw look, our playmate’s nearly healed,” one chortled as he waited for his partner to enter the room before closing the door.

“Good. Ain’t never liked fucking a corpse.”

Swallowing harshly, she narrowed her eyes at the guards and snarled. Experience had taught her that those words always preceded a great deal of pain and humiliation.

The first sight of a syringe sent a bolt of fear and rage through her. Jerking within her bonds she twisted in an attempt to avoid the needle. The cold hands on her naked waist held her steady as the guard approached.

“Come on now, be a good girl. Take your medicine,” the guards laughed even as she snarled and hissed at them.

Hissing at the sting of the metal going into her flesh she kicked out at the two guards. The sound of their laughter as the drug began to take effect filling her head with its twisted merriment.

Like a spinning top the room started to rotate, spinning out of control in a blur of bright colors and sound even as the pressure and pain from her arms faded. The hard cement floor rose steadily, too quickly for her to react as the chains were released.

Grunting as the air was knocked from her, she shook her head even as she struggled to get to her feet. Something told her the floor wasn’t safe, even as the scent of latex and spermicidal teased her.

The click of metallic buttons on the cement only confused her. Shaking her head, hoping to clear it she focused on the blurry figure disrobing a foot away from her. The familiar crinkle of a small square told her where the smells were coming from and she felt something twist within her gut.

Hitting the floor as the two guards scrambled for their clothes suddenly, she lay still floating in the now familiar haze of drugs. Curled into a fetal position she closed her eyes even as the sound of explosions reached her.

Curling tighter into herself she lay there, unmindful of the sounds drifting through the ceiling and walls. Grateful for the cold of the cement she lay still, silently ignoring the silent tears tracking down her face and soaking the long curls she was shrouded in.



The guard at the western lookout never saw what killed him. There was no sound, no warning at all for him to react to. One moment he was calmly lighting a smoke the next he was staring down as his head was ripped from his body. Had anyone thought to check on him they’d have known that the devil had opened the gates of hell.

Moving through the shadows, silent as death herself the small group advanced until they reached the largest building. Muted growls and snarls were the only sound as they stopped before a door.

“Tear it open.” Soft, feminine the voice was laced with rage, hatred, and a darker, more sinister note.

Deadly claws sank into the metal, shredding it as easily as paper as muscled arms bunched and flexed as the male ripped the door off its hinges, opening the building to their assault.

Stepping into the light the four mutants glanced around, their desire to get to their sibling as strong as their desire to destroy the monsters. Multi colored eyes flashed as they swung around, assessing, evaluating the situation intently.

“This way.” Turning he began to trot down the cold, impersonal corridor. Sniffing periodically he paused before a door and sneered. “Monsters.”

“Play.” The female grinned at him, flashing elongated canines menacingly.

He nodded with a quick jerk of his head. His main concern was finding her, finding the Weapon that had been taken from the wild. With quick steps he hurried away from his siblings and down another, darker corridor.

Stopping as he spotted two guards he grinned, his teeth flashing in the muted light. Moving forward he began to growl under his breath, his fingers flexing with the need to crush their bones.

“Intruder alert!” One screamed as he darted for the large red button on the wall. He never made it. Two steps away from it he felt claws sinking into his body, ripping into his organs, shredding his flesh. The warm, pulsating warmth that raced over his body made him wonder what was happening, but only death could tell him.

The second guard didn’t get off so easily. Before he could raise his weapon he found his arm gripped within two powerful hands. Screaming in agony as the appendage was ripped from his body he stumbled a moment before falling to the ground only to have his skull crushed beneath a massive foot.


Her body screaming in agony she hung silently, her feet barely skimming the floor. The scent of burnt flesh, hair, and cotton hung heavily in the air even as the sadistic laughter faded away with the footsteps.

Alone in the silence she swung uselessly, the cold air drifting over her exposed flesh. She ignored the twitching muscles in her legs; instead she focused on the itch in her hands. Glancing up painfully she stared at the fading black spots on her hands from the third degree burns. Beneath the skin lay new claws, new weapons to replace the wings that had been ripped from her body. Mewing softly in agony she curled tighter around herself, the tickle of blood oozing down her flesh mildly irritating but she ignored it.

The screech of metal twisting had her blinking as white light flooded her cell, blinding her. Raising a shaky hand to cover her eyes she waited for the newest torment, a deep longing to bring them pain within her. Grabbing at the slim collar around her neck she tugged on it, growling and snarling as a large, male frame stepped into the room.

The low, angry hiss of the intruder made her pause and she shifted, crawling away from the door. They had caught a litter mate – they would make him hurt her in new and horrific ways.

“Shh. I will not hurt you.” Moving quickly he scooped her into his arms, pulling her against the heat of his naked chest so her head was filled with the soothing sound of his heart beating. With a dark look at the bloody, scarred cell he turned and stepped out into the corridor. A howl rent the air and a moment later it was answered.

Reaching up she grabbed her head even as she growled in fury and pain. A low growl answered her and a moment let a warm, if somewhat rough touch landed on her shoulder. Blinking her eyes in the hopes of clearing them she stared up into the familiar golden cat eyes that stared at her.

Smiling gratefully she blinked as she was lifted off the floor and into life. Snuggling into the warmth of the chest beneath her cheek she closed her eyes, her body soaking up the warmth and compassion from her litter mate.


Even as the echo of a new howl settled within her mind, she slipped into the blessed darkness. Welcoming the lack of pain, the horror of her existence she embraced unconsciousness. The only thought within her mind was that she would pay the red-haired monster back for this.

The crackle and hiss of flames devouring wood disturbed her rest and she rolled her head to one side. Several shadowy figures sat huddled around a small fire, their skin golden within the light of the flames. Blinking as she listened to the sounds of the forest she welcomed the fresh, clean scent of wood smoke and pine trees.

She shivered, cold, tired, but it wasn’t exhaustion, and no it was illness. She could feel body aching beyond her endurance and slowly, silently she slid back into the welcoming embrace of oblivion. The sound of the low mutters lulling her into safety.

“There is much infection.”

“She wears a collar perhaps that is what has stopped her healing.”

“Can you take it off?”

“I have no choice. I must try.”

“She will heal?”

“I do not know.” Whispered softly, a note of fear and doubt within the words, he stared at the sleeping woman. He could smell the illness, the poison running through her system and hated it. He could feel the anger, the rage boiling within his blood, pushing at his control, tempting him to violence. Lifting his head he inhaled a long, slow breath and closed his eyes. Soon, when she was well again, then they would find the reason behind this capture, this torment. For now they would wait.


Soothing touches reached through the darkness, through the drugs, and inhibitors to awaken her. Blinking slightly she opened her eyes a crack and stared. Above her the branches of a massive pine tree, the air was sweet with the smell of fresh, cleanliness, the odor of wood smoke and sweat. Turning her head as a cool compress trailed over her face she stared at the crackling fire.

Two males sat around it, hunched over a fresh kill. The sounds of their teeth ripping at the flesh teased her and she growled softly, shifting, rolling toward food. A sudden, heavy hand upon her shoulder pushed her back to her resting place and she closed her eyes, even here amongst the wilds she was a prisoner.

The pain and fever raced through her body, making her mind hazy, her will to fight limited as she felt the calm, cool wash of cold water over her skin. Closing her eyes as hands chilled by the water trailed over her exposed body she wondered who was protecting the Father and his Chosen.

“Rest easy my sister,” softly, affectionately the words ghosted over her easing her distress. “You are safe with us.”

“Father. Chosen.”

“Shh. Rest.”

“She worries not of herself.”

“The monster is with Father and his mate. She has stood watch over them before and was willing to die to save them.”

“The monster did this?”

“It surrendered her to the green monsters.”

A slow, calculating nod was the only response as silence settled upon the camp. First would be healing the wounds, healing the agony of one of their own. Then there would be revenge. Soon, very, very soon they would hunt…not for food but for blood.



Logan sat on the back deck and watched the kids racing around the yard. Their childish games had them racing over the scars from the battle that had saved them. He eyed the freshly sprouted grass, the long, deep gouges within the ground and grunted angrily. The wind shifted, sending a wave of smells toward him, reminding him of all that had been lost.

“You miss them don’t you?” Rogue whispered settling next to him, a cold beer in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Something ain’t right, baby. They knew this was a safe place for the. Knew I wouldn’t let the army get ‘em. He would have brought her back here if she’d run.”

“Maybe they’re just laying low.”

Logan turned to her and smiled softly. “She would have come to you. She would have said something instead it’s been too quiet. Not to mention the way Red’s been acting lately. There’s something off about her, and I’ve caught the stench of military on her once or twice. Usually when she comes in late at night.”

Rogue sighed, “If she’s responsible for Weapon’s disappearance then we’ll deal with her. Right now we need to find out where Weapon is, find a litter mate. Cerebro won’t pick up any of them, Weapon’s mind is too abstract for that.”

“I’m gonna give it a few days then I’m gonna go look. I may have had no say in their creation but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna stand by and watch ‘em being destroyed.”

Rogue smiled softly and curled up against him. She knew as well as he did the cost that Weapon was willing to pay to keep them safe. They both knew that something had gone horribly wrong and it was up to them to find out what.

Logan stared at the tree line that bordered the back ‘lawn’ of Xavier’s, every instinct within him telling him that there was something wrong. Glancing behind him he sniffed subtly, inhaling the scent of the students, the teachers, the vegetation but no hint of Weapon or her brother.

“Where are you?” He muttered under his breath.

With a low snarl he turned to glare at the tall, beautiful red-head who watched him closely. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Logan, what are you doing out here? The party is inside you know.”

“Where are they?” Logan snarled rising to his feet and advancing toward her. “I know you did something you shouldn’t have so you better tell me…”

“I don’t know. I don’t keep track of those that wander through here. They’re gone, leave it at that.”

Logan shook his head and sneered at her. “You better pray nothing’s happened, Jean. If it has, if for some reason the army got her, she’ll come back here and rip your heart out. And I’ll watch.”

“Logan there are more important things to consider. We have two hundred students that need to be protected…”

“Their best hope for protection was her and her brother.” Rogue ground out and rose to stand with Logan. She stepped past Jean and paused in the open doorway to glance back at her with hatred and banked rage in her gaze. “And you might want to shower before you rejoin us…you smell like a military base.”

Jean paled as Logan and Rogue stalked off, her legs giving out on her and she slid down the wall to land on her but on the cold cement. Dear God, what was she going to do now?
Whimpering in agony as her litter mates tried to get her collar off Weapon stared upwards into the clear, pale blue of the morning sky. The others were barely covered, their skin warm to the touch but she was chilled, her jaw shook with each tremor. An annoying tickle trailed down her temple, sweat rolling slowly along to soak her hair.

“I can’t get it.” A strained grunt before the pressure around her throat was released.

“Let me try.”

Like shadows on a wall, figures moved, danced around her. The pressure around her neck returned, bringing with it heat that scalded her very soul. Still she didn’t cry out, refused to make a sound other than the odd whimper. Tears joined the sweat streaking her face, unnoticed, as the torture continued until she gasped. Like a flash of lightening the pain, the discomfort all stopped.

Gone was the searing wash of electrical current, gone was the stifling feeling of something around her throat. And with the release of the collar a new pain, a welcomed throbbing crested within her. The familiar tingle of flesh being repaired, of infection being destroyed, of her very life coming back drew a giggle from her a moment before she slid into a deep sleep.

“It will take time?”

“At least a full cycle of the moon to heal completely. She will need to be watched.”

“We will wait to retaliate. We will guard our own.”

“I will go and see the Father and his mate. I will ensure they are safe and return.”

Rising he glanced at the assembled males and females. Sisters, brothers, siblings from the same litter they all had one purpose in life. To save the man who had saved them. He knew Weapon was unaware of how many siblings she had, she’d left the pack long before he had but he was certain she would welcome their aide.

Fury within the pounding of his heart, he turned and glanced southward. A slow, evil grin crossed his face as he blended into the trees as silent as death. He would check on his father and return to his sister. When she was able he would lead her to the monster, he would watch as she destroyed the other female, and he would take his pleasure on the Monster as the guards had on his sibling.




With a couple of beer in his hand, Piotr walked along the freshly healing scar from the battle. Ahead of him he could see Logan as he walked the tree line, the older man’s shoulders tensed, his fists clenching and unclenching, a look of black rage upon his face.

Purposely stepping on a twig to get it to snap, Piotr smiled at Logan who glared back at him.

“Somethin’ you wanted, punk?”

“Brought you a beer.” Piotr held the golden liquid up for Logan to see. “Rogue said something about a headache.”

Logan nodded; Rogue had been getting more and more headaches of late. Both looked at it as a sign that maybe, just maybe Weapon was closer to them than the enemy. “Thanks for the beer?”

“You still lookin’ for ‘em?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Nothing. Just seems like a waste you know. They risked a lot to save us and got ran off for their troubles. I still don’t get it.”

“Get what?” Logan barked.

“Why they did it. Why risk life and limb for people they’ve never met?” Piotr replied softly.

Logan froze and glanced out over the trees before turning back to the tall, Russian kid. “Because that’s what they do. She chose Rogue to help, marked her, gave her protection that she didn’t have to.”

“I can see that. What I don’t understand is why? Come on Logan, we both know that as much as Rogue instills the need to protect in others, it isn’t enough of a reason to go to war against a force that’s ten or even twenty times more powerful than you.”

An indifferent shrug was his only reply. Patiently, Piotr waited, somehow knowing that Logan would tell him in due time.

“You seem awful interested in Weapon and her brother.”

“She’s a beautiful woman, got skills to.”

“She’s a killin’ machine. She was made for a purpose and it wasn’t to sit and have afternoon tea with.”

“That’s never been the point.” Piotr admitted. “She looked terrified to be inside that night. Not only that, I heard about how she reacted to Dr. Grey…”

“Don’t get me started on that woman. She’s up to something and I don’t like it.”

“Logan you aren’t going to do something impulsive, are you? Don’t go poking into matters that don’t concern you.”

“If she’s done what I think she has, it concerns me. It should concern everyone. She’s supposed to be on our side and yet she can betray us? I’m not interested in Dr. Jean Grey’s health.”

Piotr nodded and watched Logan turn to the trees for a moment. A moment later he fell into step with the older man as they made their way toward the mansion. “Who are they, Logan? Who are Weapon and her brother?”

“Experiments.” Logan grunted as he grabbed the door knob of the patio doors. “Tools that the army made to destroy what they couldn’t understand.”

Piotr nodded, he still didn’t understand what it was about them that had Logan so tied up in knots but he knew better than to poke, prod and disturb the Wolverine. He watched Logan stalk off, probably to go to Rogue, to sit and brood some more and shook his head. They all needed to know what had happened, because if they didn’t sooner or later it would come back to haunt them.

Piotr cast an uneasy glance behind him and hunched his shoulders in defeat. Turning he started back for the mansion, unaware of the golden eyes watching his every move.

Creeping along the ground like silent predators, the shadows lengthened, grew as night fell. Lights began to glow behind glass, figures began dancing within the lights as he watched, waited patiently. Here was the place, here marked the need. It was here that the monster retreated to, and here where the father and his chosen lived.

He tensed as the back doors opened and a slim, dark haired woman stepped out into the cool evening air. Smirking slightly he watched as the woman strolled down the stairs, her gloved fingers tracing over pale streaks in her mane.

“Chosen.” He muttered softly as he watched her.


Rogue sighed and glanced up at the trees that marked Xavier’s property. She missed being able to walk through them and know that someone above her watched to keep her safe. Ducking her head at the thought of Weapon, she swore softly.

“Where are you? This not knowing is killing Logan.” Kicking at an errant stone she watched it skip across the pavement of the basketball court and roll into the lush grass. With a shake of her head, Rogue stared for the tree line. Even without her silent guardian, Rogue felt no fear as she slid into the darker shadows. Fingers always covered by fabric trailed over the rough bark of trees.

In a moment of anger she ripped them from her hands, and tossed them aside. Tensing at the sound of leaves and branches rustling she glanced upward and scanned the trees. “You won’t see her.” She admonished herself. “Let her come to you, let whatever needs to be come and you’ll be fine.”

A low, gentle purr filled her mind a moment before the air seemed to grow oppressive and then nothing. Shaking her head at her own foolishness, Rogue resumed her walk. She longed to have Logan home, longed to know what he was doing but knew he wouldn’t call until he had something to say.


From his perch in the huge spruce tree he watched her, his eyes glowing in the night. Lifting his head he sniffed, soon the father would be back and then he would awaken what his sister had given away. Now though he had other things to think of, now he would hunt.


“Rogue!” Logan’s voice drew her from the silence of the night. Turning she hurried toward the back patio, smiling as she caught sight of Logan, cigar in hand, cradling a beer.

“Hey sugah!” Rogue waved at him and hurried toward the man who grinned quickly before falling back on the usual gruff expression. “Did you find anything?”

“Nothing that we can use. Apparently the army had a line on her and the last I heard they were close.” Logan explained as he led her away from the mansion, back toward the tree line. “From the rumblings I heard, we may have a bigger problem though.”

“Yeah? What?” Rogue asked softly.

“Her brother’s out for blood.” Logan whispered, trailing a gentle finger through her streak. “If he gets to whoever betrayed Weapon, he’ll do more than just kill ‘em.”

“Where’d you go?”

“North, up by Alkali Lake. Figured if they were gonna go somewhere familiar, that’s where they’d head. Found nothing but whispers of wild men, and dangerous phantoms.”

“I’m just glad to have you home.”

“Jean around?”

“Yeah, been sticking pretty close. Her and Scott have been avoiding me so whatever’s going on I think he’s involved.”

“Its on the wind, Marie.” Logan whispered softly. “There’s blood in the air, I can smell it.”

Leaning against him, Rogue sighed. “Don’t let them destroy what you’ve managed to build. We’ll find Weapon and her brother, we’ll find your family. We can protect them, protect ourselves.”

“I’m gonna do whatever I have to, darlin’. Come on, I need a stiff drink, something to eat, and a shower. After that we’ll talk more.”

Rogue smiled at him and nodded as they slowly made their way back to the mansion. Stepping inside she glanced over her shoulder for a moment before focusing on Logan again.

Sitting on their bed she stared at Logan as he paced. Reaching over she unrolled the map on the bedside table and stared down at it. “If there are tales of dangerous, wild creatures in that area maybe we need to take a broader look. Maybe we should look further north, west even.”

“I was thinking Toronto. From what I’ve dug up, there’s a lab not too far north of there. A lab hiding under the title of a chemical plant.”

“What do you think?”

“Hell, the army’ll hide what it can under whatever they have to. Saying it’s a chemical plant is an easy out. I think it’s a good chance that we’ll be able to get a lead or two from there.” Logan took a long swig of his beer and stared at Rogue. “I’ll take care of you, Marie. I promise. You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not scared, Logan. I’m not going to live in fear. I know she’s worth the risk, after all she would do no less…”

“Darlin’ I’m not abandoning her. We’ll go back out. We just have to be careful, make sure that the army doesn’t get wind of our diggin’. That’s why we have to be slow and cautious.”

“They may have killed her by now.”

“No. I don’t think so. They want their bio-weapon alive to kill for ‘em.”

Rogue nodded and shifted, reaching for another map. Unfolding them she read over them, plotting a course, planning their next move. Glancing up she met his eyes, “Do you really believe Jean would sell her out?”

“If it meant the difference between saving the kids and her ideals and letting Weapon loose, yes. Jean doesn’t see her as a mutant, sees her as a weapon, a tool the army can use.”

“Weapon’s like a child. She’s got no ulterior motives, no darkness within her. She does what she has to survive. She’s the best protection these kids could have. You and I both know she’d die to save ‘em, because of us.”

Logan nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, a pensive look on his face. “We both know that she’d rather die than let a monster hurt an innocent. I wish I knew where my daughter is, Marie. I want to know she’s safe, that she’s healthy, and that she’s okay.”

“I know.” Rogue pulled him close, ignoring the maps and other debris on the bed. “Come on, just lay back with me and we’ll deal with this in the morning.”




Rogue glanced at the empty bed as she stretched out the kinks from sleeping half on, half off the bed. Logan had been up and gone when she’d awakened and for that she was glad. It gave her a few moments to compose her emotions, to hide her fear from everyone. In all likelihood Weapon was at the mercy of a lab, being tortured and hurt because of another’s fear.

Her clothes in hand Rogue slipped on her jeans, her mind a tangled mess. Even if Jean hadn’t sold her out, it was possible that the army was getting too close to Rogue for Weapon’s taste and she’d have allowed them to seize her to save Father’s Chosen.

Pulling her hair back she smiled at the sunshine that danced across the floor. She slid into a pair of runners, a quick walk outside would do her good before trying to find Logan. Tugging her gloves on, she hurried down the stairs and out into the warm, sun filled morning.

“Mornin’ Jubes.” Rogue waved at her friend as she stepped quickly onto the soft, cool grass. She walked quickly, her steps sure as she circled the lawn, her hands laced behind her back, a relaxed look upon her face.



Grunting as he recognized the Chosen one approaching, he slid deeper into the shadows. He could smell the father on her, the scent rich, familiar, soothing. The smoky scent of tobacco, the bite of bourbon and the yeasty smell of beer, but deeper was the scent of danger, of risk, of death and it drew a smile.

With an agile leap he landed on the sturdy branch he’d spent most of the night upon and watched her pass him by. He could hear her soft purr as she moved past him, hear the steady beating of her heart, and felt at ease, at peace for a moment. The sound of a door opening drew his attention and he growled low, fury in every note.

He narrowed his eyes and watched as the red-headed monster stepped off the bottom step and started for Chosen. With each step his unease and disgust grew until he could no longer contain his rage. Jumping from the tree to the ground he barely felt the jolt of jumping thirty feet.

“Wake now!” He grunted low in his throat. “Sister, wake whatever you placed within the Chosen, keep her safe, keep her from harm.”


Scratching at her throat Rogue eyed Jean who looked positively cheerful as she walked toard her. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Do I need a reason to be happy?” Jean shot back.

“I guess not. Sell anyone out lately?”

“Rogue, try to understand this is for the best. There are students that need to be protected; one life is hardly comparable to hundreds.”

Rogue glared at her, the words as close to an admission as she was likely to get and yet she knew it wasn’t enough to beat her for. No they needed more, needed something concrete, something that even Professor Xavier would have to accept.

Frowning, Rogue reached up to her temple at the beginning swell of pain. It wasn’t so bad that she was uncomfortable, it was more a nagging sensation and it irked her. From the startled expression on Jean’s face, whatever was happening on the inside was happening on the outside.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” Rogue ground out.

“Your face.” Jean whispered stepping back slowly. “It’s all metallic, the metal’s coming through your skin.”

With a sharp movement, Rogue jerked the gloves off and stared at her hands. They were indeed wrapped in metal, the pale flesh still visible in places, almost like she were wearing a loose knit lace.

Shaking her head she stared at the familiar glimmer of silver even as her head seemed to swell, the pain increase exponentially until she was nearly sick with it. Screaming as it seemed to settle upon her chest she hit her knees, her hands cradling her head.

“Rogue. Rogue it’s okay. Just try to relax.” Jean’s voice seemed to come from a distance. As she moved closer, the pain increased, the metal seemed to press outward, along with the irrational, yet familiar need to hurt the monster. “NO! DON’T TOUCH ME!” Rogue screamed even as she became aware of Logan, PIotr, Scott, and Hank racing toward her. Great, a whole pack of men, she laughed coldly as she eyed Jean.

Leaning toward the doctor she whispered just loud enough for the other woman to hear, “She’s coming for you!”

Jean barely had time to react as Logan all but threw her aside in his need to get to Rogue. “Darlin’ what’s happening?” He demanded pulling her close to him and watching as the metal seemed to thin out until it was barely visible. Almost like glass upon the pale skin.

“I don’t know.” Rogue whispered softly, the pain hadn’t eased totally and she still couldn’t see clearly. “Jean was coming to talk to me and the next thing I knew I was swimming in agony. Dear God, Logan it hurts. Make the pain go away!”

“Shh.” Logan lifted her into his arms, getting to his feet easily, comfortably. “MOVE!” He grunted at Hank and Scott who stood in his way. He carried her inside and headed for the stairs, they needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere that Rogue’s body could relax and the only place he knew as their shared room.

Logan put her down on the soft, rumpled bedcovers and satred at her. Why had the metal come out now? Everyone had anticipated that it was gone, that she had lost any hint of Weapon she may have held at one time. “Baby, you think you can eat something? I’ll get you some toast or something.”

Rogue shook her head. “She’s coming Logan. They’re coming.”

“Are you sure?”

Rogue cried softly as she curled onto her side. “I don’t know. The metal is a protection from Weapon, it only comes to the surface when I’m threatened. What are we going to do?”

Logan stared at her for a moment before exhaling and sinking to the mattress next to her. “We wait to see. Motherfucker, we wait.”

Pale moonlight filtered through the branches as a lone figure approached the small camp. His steps were quick, purposeful, and silent as he slid through the shadows to hunker down by the flames.

“Father? Chosen?”

“Safe for now. I woke that which Weapon put within her. We must not fail, must not that Monster win.”

“We won’t.”

“How has Weapon done in my absence?”

“She does not know us. She’s thought to escape us more than once but her body is too weak to allow her to run. Our sister has watched over her every day.”

“Seven days then we’ll leave. We must got to them, must protect at all costs.”

“Casualties?”

Slow, maniacal a grin crossed his face with a cruel twist of his features. “Only the young must survive. All others are expendable. I will not allow her to go unpunished.”

A quick nod and a shift of bodies and silence once more fell upon the forest.



Weapon shifted in her sleep, waking quickly as she realized that a warmth clung to her back. Wrinkling her nose she huffed at the familiar rumble that went through the body. A moment later she stared into the warmth of a friend’s gaze.

“Chosen?”

“Safe. Your gift is working to keep her safe. We will go to her soon.”

“The Monster?”

“Too close?”

“I’m healed, we go now!” Sitting up she growled at the pain and weakness that clung to her body making her sluggish and uncoordinated.

“The pack is on the hunt. We need food.”

“Pack?” For the first time since she’d awoken, she looked around. The others she’d seen earlier were absent but the air was still heavy with their scents. Indentations in the ground marked where they’d been sleeping and the fire still burned low, as though just waiting for a log to flare into life.

“You do not remember them?”

Weapon shook her head uneasily, fear warring within her. Rolling her shoulders she smothered a cry at the searing wash of fire from her back. Grabbing for her wings she stared in shocked horror at her litter mate. “My wings? Where are my wings?”

“Do you not know? They ripped them out. There was no way we could put them back.” He whispered softly, soothingly, a low pained growl rolling through his chest.

Weapon shook her head in desperation as her fingers traced over the still tender wounds on her upper back. She didn’t notice the tremble in her hands, as she felt the puckering, the twisted muscles where wings had once been. With a soft whimper she turned from the concerned gaze before her and curled into a ball.

“Rest now, sister Soon we’ll have to move on then we’ll get your vengeance.”

“I’m not whole anymore.” Soft, pitifully she whimpered as she inched away from him. Wrapping her arms around herself she stared out into the night, her mind racing with memories, with pain. The faint but distinct laughter from the guards slithered into her mind and she shook uncontrollably as the memories of what she’d endured washed over her.

With each new degrading act the monsters had done, her anger grew, pushing aside any caution, any compassion. Instead, her need for revenge, to inflict pain grew, oozing over her like a steady trail of her own blood.

The crackle of branches and feet on the underbrush drew her attention and she glanced once at the trees. She watched as five figures moved into the faint glow of the flames carrying a large deer. Closing her eyes she turned away from them. She had much more important things to think of, food would come later, much, much later. When her blood thirst had been quenched, when her desire to have justice, have revenge was satisfied.

“Eat.” The command drew a growl even as food was shoved into her hands and she sat up. Digging into the warm, juicy meat she ate quickly, her eyes glowing red with her emotions. Licking at the trailing fat she ate quickly, ingesting whatever her litter mate shoved into her hands.

“We’ll go soon.” Wrath declared easily his gaze on Weapon. There was so much concern and rage within her eyes that he knew they’d be hard pressed not to just kill the monster they were hunting.



Logan glanced up sharply at the knock on his bedroom door and growled. Rising to his feet he walked over and opened it a crack to meet the concerned blue eyes staring at him. “Yeah?”

“How’s Rogue?”

Logan growled at the question. It had been two weeks since that day the mask had made it’s reappearance and each day Rogue had sunk deeper into the world within her own mind. She didn’t interact with anyone other than himself, avoided Jean like she was the second coming of the plague. The one time Jean had pressed the issue Rogue had nearly ripped her face off.

“She’s okay.”

“Logan, she can’t keep this up. She needs to socialize with others.”

“She doesn’t want to deal with you and quite frankly I don’t either.”

“Logan? Who’s at the door?” Rogue called softly, appearing a moment later by Logan’s shoulder. A low, furious growl and a dark glare crossed her face. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Rogue, I’ve come to check up on you. Just wanted to make sure that you’re doing okay.”

“I’m doin’ just fine without your interference.”

Jean sighed softly as she watched Rogue’s usual pale skin washed over with shiny, living metal. If she didn’t know any better she’d have assumed that she’d absorbed some of Piotr, but the tall Russian was careful about respecting Rogue and Logan’s need for space. “Rogue, the presence in you is making you like this. It’s not your personality and you need to deal with it.”

“I don’t need to do squat, bitch. You sold her out, I know it, Logan knows it, you know it. And as soon as I can prove it I’m gonna make you pay for it. Now if you don’t mind, you’re interrupting us.”

“Rogue…” Jean started as Rogue stalked away. Turning her gaze to Logan she met his cold, hard gaze. “Please, Logan, talk to her. She doesn’t need to act like this. It’s not healthy.”

“Rogue’s just fine. Just because she doesn’t want to deal with you. Unlike you, she doesn’t see that girl as a threat, she sees her as a friend, an ally.” Logan ground out and stepped back, already moving to close the door.

“What do I have to do to make you see…”

“There isn’t anything you can do. We don’t see the same things when we look at each other. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got better things to do than stand here and talk to the likes of you.”

Jean jumped as Logan slammed the door in her face. Turning she caught Scott’s gaze and shrugged, there would be no reaching Rogue right now. She’d give it some time and then she’d try again, maybe after Logan had left the mansion on one of is rare excursions besides a mission.

“You better hope she don’t find something that links you.” Scott whispered softly. “Something tells me if she feels she’s got something to take to Charles, you’re gonna be wishing you were somewhere else.”

“You said it yourself, Scott that we had to put the needs of the children above anyone else’s. That mutant was a risk to the kids here, to all of us.”

“I know. And my opinion hasn’t changed, I’m just saying you’d better be careful. I won’t risk losing you to something or someone that’s bigger than all of us.”

Jean nodded slowly and watched as Scott walked away. She didn’t think it would ever get that far. As far as she knew, the army was doing the mental refurbishing of their weapon, and thus she would be out of the way…at least for now.

The soft earth beneath her bare feet was a welcomed reminder of freedom as Weapon moved through the thick forest; she could hear her littermates, hear their breathing, their hearts pounding, and welcomed each sound.

A glance upwards revealed the sun was high as the golden light filtered through the canopy of leaves and needles. Inhaling, the rich smell of damp earth, rotting vegetation, and sweat swirled around her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone anymore.

Weapon rolled her shoulders, her mind filled with thoughts, with plans for protecting those that deserved it. She would do whatever had to be done to protect Father and his mate, even kill the others. Growling softly, longing to just take to the skies, she glanced around. The rest of the pack was spread out, moving through the trunks fully intent upon their mission. With an agile leap, she grabbed a sturdy branch and swung up into the tree. She could travel faster branch to branch then they could on the ground.

Tracking over the uneven terrain, the small pack moved through both the day and night. Hunting in unison, pausing only long enough to get rest, to eat, determined to protect the ones they had been blessed with.



Long shadows stretched out over the rolling green of the field as the pack paused. Before them stretching out were endless gardens, and shrubbery before a massive house. Vines covered the walls, windows glowed golden with the lights and they could hear the sounds of people laughing, the sounds of children, of voices, toys, that drifted across the evening air.

Dropping into a low crouch she assessed the situation carefully. There were many young within those walls, many who were defenseless, who couldn’t protect themselves against the likes of the monsters that she knew were there. It would be up to them, to the pack to defend and protect. The distinct cry of a baby drew a rumbling snarl from her chest and her hands clenched, her nails digging into the soft earth.

A suckling young would be most at risk, it wouldn’t be able to run, wouldn’t understand the pain that would come. She would have to get in and get it out quickly. With a deep, almost physical hatred she scanned the lower bank of windows, searching for that opening she’d once gone in.

Catching movement a littermate nudged her shoulder, “Monster?”

Turning her head quickly she stared at the massive frame walking along the edge of the grass. His broad shoulders were hugged by the dark t-shirt he wore and pale coverings encased his legs. He walked with a feline grace, one she’d seen too often not to recognize. He was a trained fighter, a man willing to hurt to save what he believed in. Still there was something about him, something that tickled at the back of her mind.

“Stay.” Turning, twisting under the gathered males of the pack, Weapon slid into the foliage, into the shadows. Regardless of who this male was, she could take him. She could bend him to her will and take the information she needed from him. He would be the source of her information, the source of her victory over the monsters. He didn’t know it yet, but he’d just been volunteered to be the expendable one in the pack.

Weapon darted through the branches, ducking and dodging them as she made her way around the edge of the clearing. With each step, each movement her eyes never left her prey, slowly, inch by inch the blue faded to be replaced by blood red and pure anger.


Piotr swore softly to himself as he headed for the trail that Logan had taken earlier in the evening. For some reason, Logan had gotten even angrier and volatile since Rogue’s metal face had come back into play. Not that Piotr blamed the odler man, after all it was hard to blame someone for loving another person so much.

Still everyone had noticed the tension in the room with Logan, Rogue, and Dr. Grey. The couple was focused on finding Weapon and her brother, and blamed Dr. Grey. He knew that they blamed the red-head for the other girl’s disappearance, blamed her for their loss and he wondered if that was true. Would Dr. Grey ever sell one of their kind out?

Piotr froze at the softest of sounds and glanced around. The lights from the mansion didn’t spill this far and in the late evening shadows he couldn’t make out anything other than vague shapes but something or someone was out there.

“Bloody Hell,” The Russian curse slipped past his control as he shifted, wondering if he should metal up or not. With a shake of his head he moved closer to the brush, deeper into the shadows, “You’re imagining things, Piotr. Ain’t nobody out here but Logan and he ain’t got a quarrel with you.”

Ducking a low hanging branch, Piotr started down the trail, a hand reaching for his belt where the flashlight was hanging. Like something out of a movie, he watched the flashlight roll across the forest floor, the pale beam dancing with the shadows even as he felt a heavy weight crash into him, taking him to the ground.

His attacker’s weight forced him down, and after a split second of shock his training kicked in and he kicked out, before rolling, away from the assailant. In a tangle of limbs, with angry snarls, Piotr found himself flat on his back a warm, soft body on top of him and teeth buried in his shoulder. Before her could scream, the bite was released and a hard hand clamped down over his mouth.

Hot breath panted out over his skin told him that his attacker was probably tired, and he reached for him only to find himself with a handful of naked flesh that didn’t belong on any man. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to be fooled by the fact that his attacker was a woman. Life and death didn’t care if you were male or female, and he wouldn’t allow himself to either.

With his armor climbing up his arm, Piotr swung, connecting with the woman’s jaw, sending her flying. Before he could get himself up completely, she had shaken off the force of the blow and was launching herself into him, her considerable weight catching him midsection and sending him backwards into a tree. Jagged claws tore at his clothes, grunts and snarls of rage filled his ears as he fought back. If whoever the Brotherhood had sent got past him, the younger kids would suffer.

Ducking a punch, Piotr caught her in the stomach with a hefty punch only to find himself on the ground with her teeth once again buried in his flesh. Only this time she didn’t seem to be willing to let go, instead the snarls and growls increased every time he struggled.

Later he would wonder just how her teeth had managed to get past his armor, how she’d managed to get a firm enough grip to draw blood. For now, his main concern was staying alive.

“Weak.”

Low, furious, the snarl by his ear stunned Piotr. Gasping for breathe, his head tilted at an unnatural angle he swallowed harshly, his fingers digging into the rotting vegitation beneath him.

“No. No, I’m not weak.” Piotr somehow managed to get out.

“Where is she?” Hot, wet her tongue trailed up the side of his face, leaving a trail of cooling moisture. “Where is your monster?”

“I don’t know…” Piotr grunted in pain when she grabbed him, sinking her nails deep into his flesh.

“Where is Chosen? Where is Father?”

Twisting his head as much as possible with her hand in his head he stared at her out of the corner of his eye, her words familiar, and an echo of something he’d heard not more than four hours before. “Father? Chosen?” He whispered. “Oh my God! It’s you!”

Shocked at the way he surrendered, the way he suddenly became submissive, Weapon darted away from him. Crouching into a low stance, one she could either attack or run from with little effort. Snarling at him she glared at the male before her, licking her lips as she smelt the rich scent of his blood coming off him. There had been a sweetness to the warm liquid that seemed at odds with the faintly metallic taste she knew.

Hunkered on her haunches she stared at him as he slowly made it to his knees, to his haunches his position mirroring her own. Silence stretched painfully between them as both waited to see what the other would do.

Only when Bobby shouted at Piotr did the silent standoff break. With a lunge, Weapon went over Piotr and into the trees vanishing into the darkness leaving him sprawled out on the ground, his eyes seeing the twisted lines of her bare back, a back that should have been covered by wings.

Reaching up, Piotr trailed hand over his throat where she’d bit him, his fingers rubbing at the blood even as he climbed to his feet. He could hear Bobby shouting at him again and swore, “HOLD YOUR HORSES! I’m coming,” he muttered staring down at his hands. Something told him that Rogue and Logan would want to know about this but he didn’t know what to say.

With a kick at the ground he started back for the mansion, completely unaware of the woman sitting on a thick branch watching him, a look of shocked rage upon her face.

Piotr walked through the hallways his destination clear. Logan might be out of the house by Rogue wouldn't be. She never left their room, never ventured far without Logan these days.

Ignoring the quiet mutters from those around him or Bobby's voice as he spoke to Kitty, Piotr darted up the stairs. His long legs carried him down the corridor to the simple wooden door of Logan's bedroom.

"Please let her be in a good mood." Piotr whispered to himself and raised a hand to knock.

"Who is it?" Rogue's surly tone drifted through the wood.

"Piotr, we need to talk." Piotr rubbed at his throat and eyed the faint tinge of blood on his fingers. He heard the lock click and a moment later the door swung open to reveal Rogue.

The once vibrant young woman had faded. In her stead a shadow of her former self stood, her hair was matted and her face had an unhealthy paller to it. Her dark eyes glared at him with banked hostility as she held the door.

"What do you want?" Rogue demanded, her head rested on the door.

Piotr glanced up and down the hall. "Weapon." He whispered and raised his chin to reveal the bite marks. "May I?"

Rogue eyed the wounds and a slow, easy smile crossed her face. "Come in." She closed the door behind him and moved to set on the edge of the bed. "Start talking."

"I was out looking for Logan, he took off toward the cabin on the lake." Piotr explained quickly. "When something hit me. Knocked me clear off my feet and I lost my flashlight. Next thing I know I've got a mass of hair and bare skin on top of me, and very sharp canines sunk into my flesh. I was metalled up Rogue, how she got through my armor I'm not sure - "

"She can manipulate any metal. It's what she's capable of. She is metal, only her's isn't organic its adamantium and it slices through anything - even diamonds." Rogue replied. "How do you know it was weapon and not Sabertooth?"

"Because, Sabertooth doesn't have breasts," Piotr smirked, "Nor does he call you the Chosen."

Rogue paled and stood to pace to the window. "How is she? Tell me everything about her?"

"She's not the same woman that was here before. She's without wings, feral to the max. Truthfully, if I hadn't heard her speak I'd have thought her a wild animal set to rip my throat out and eat me. She's filled with bitter rage Rogue, and I'm not sure anyone of us could stop her."

Rogue shrugged, her eyes scanned the back yard, the tree line desperately. Could it be so simple? Could Weapon be so close? "She's after the monster." Rogue turned to face Piotr. "And you aren't it. That she didn't kill you is reason enough to be thankful. She must have wanted something."

"Information, perhaps? I can't tell her antyhing, I don't know anything Rogue, you know as well as I do that - " Piotr paused as the door knob turned and the door swung open slowly.

He rose to his feet and shifted uncomfortably at the fury and challenge in Logan's gaze. Piotr's eyes darted to Rogue who whimpered softly before settling back on Logan's. "I had news." he started to explain.

"You stink of blood. What happened?" Logan ground out.

"Weapon." Rogue smiled at him, her eyes sparkled happily. "She tackled him."

"Weapon's here?" Logan slammed the door and stalked over to glare at Piotr. "Where? What did she say?"

"Not much. There wasn't a real conversation you know, we sorta had a fight. I didn't know it was her that tackled me and my training kicked in. She fell back when Bobby started hollering at me to come inside. I don't know, she's dangerous, Logan. Very dangerous."

"Of course she is. She's probably been through hell, not exactly a good reason to be happy go lucky."

"Should I try and make contact?" Rogue whispered as she walked up to wrap Logan in her embrace. "Should I try and talk to her? To them?"

"Would that be wise?" Piotr asked. "She was ready to rip my throat out, what makes you think - "

"You aren't Chosen." Rogue replied quickly. "You're disposable to them. Logan, this could be the proof we need. If I can talk to her, if I can get out details maybe it'll be enough to take it to Charles."

"Do you think he's gonna give a damn about something his star pupil did?" Logan grunted angrily. "No, we'll deal with this ourselves. You go out and talk to them later; we'll go for a walk. I'm sure we can figure something out."

Rogue nodded and smiled up at him. "At least she made it back to us."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Logan stared at Piotr who swallowed uneasily. The cost of Jean's betrayal would be high - but how high only time would tell.

****

Weapon paced a low growl in her chest as she eyed the mansion. Each stride like a caged beast as she watched the lights go out one by one. She waited her weight on her toes as she listened to the sounds of the facility going to bed. Tonight she'd sneak in; tonight she'd start taking the young from the monster. A muted growl from behind her drew her attention and she watched as a side door opened and two figures stepped out into the shadows. A third joined them and they started toward the tree line on the other side of the field.

"Stay." She ground out and took to the trees. The wind had carried a familiar scent to her and her prey from earlier wouldn't be so lucky this time.

Silent, deadly Weapon moved through the branches with ease. She hunkered down next to an aged spruce, her gaze steady on the trio as they moved through the shadows. She would let the two in the lead pass and then the third would be hers.

A slow procession by her, Weapon's attention was focused on the tall man who smelled faintly of blood and her own essence. When he was even with her, she launched from her hiding place.

Piotr grunted at the heavy weight that settled on his chest. He opened his mouth to call to Rogue and Logan but found to his horror that his throat was cut off. He couldn't breath, couldn't scream, or cry out for help. His struggles were weak, uncoordinated with the heavy pressure on his chest and windpipe. Darkness swam behind his eye lids as he felt himself being dragged deeper into the shadows.

When the weight eased he gasped for breath and sat up only to find himself lifted to his feet, a hard hand clamped around his throat.

"Dinner." The low, rage filled word drew fear like a knife draws blood.

“I'm not that tasty," he grunted weakly.

"Why should I not kill you and let my pack devour your flesh? What should I do with you, kill you or play with you. Killing is too quick, I'd get little satisfaction." Her tone turned seductive, almost sweet, and gentle. "Playing with you would bring me much satisfaction - and entertainment to my pack mates. Still you might cry out, might ruin the game. Your cries might awaken the monster, draw her attention. Do you think I'd like that?" She licked along his jaw, saliva oozing down his skin. "Do you think I'd enjoy the monster's awareness?"
Piotr shook his head. "Look Rogue and Logan are out there. They came to talk to you, to your littermate. If you let me go I'll take you to them."

"No. My pack will protect them. I'm no longer whole, your monster made sure that they took from me. Now I will take from you, from them." Weapon hissed. "You will be my play toy. Do you not like that idea? Do you not want to pleasure me?"

"Rogue and Logan have been very worried." Piotr gasped. "They've been searching for you. If you kill me they'll be very mad."

"Their anger has no effect on me. I don't feel terrible about it; don't feel as though I owe you mercy. Your monster did this, stole my wings from me. How can I fly, how can I protect what is MINE if I have no wings?"

"I don't know." Piotr trembled; fear choked him, the bitter flavor heavy upon his tongue. He could feel his body ache with it, feel the tightening of his face, his throat as he kicked futilely. Whoever had made her had done too good of a job. "Please, I don't want to die."

"Oh you won't die." Weapon whispered softly. "Death comes to those who earn it. You haven't earned it yet. I will make you watch while I destroy everything you and your monster hold so valuable. You will listen to her screams; hear her beg for death while the males in my pack take her over and over again. She will bleed and when they have finished with her, I will reward you by allowing you to take her. To force yourself into her bloodied body until you have been pleasured. Am I not generous? Not kind?"

Piotr swallowed awkwardly. "If you do that they'll hunt you down. They'll kill you and your pack."

"I do not fear them. I can kill them. Or is it that you want to be taken? That you want to have her first?"

"Talk to Rogue, to Logan, ask them what they want. Don't go doing this without thinking." Piotr could feel his mutation tickle as he struggled to keep from turning it on. "I will help you. I can get you in, make sure you are safe."

"You would betray your own pack? Why? Do you want to be the Alpha - and the old one won't let you?" Weapon nipped at his earlobe. "Do you think I would let you be equal to me? You will have to prove yourself; you will have to please me. Can you do that? Can you please me, and earn your place within my pack?"

Wisely, Piotr kept silent. He didn't want to anger her, or draw the attention of the telepaths in the mansion because it would go bad for him. He wondered if Logan could smell his fear, "Logan needs to talk to you."

"You will have to convince me to listen to his words. Father will be angered that I am no longer whole." Weapon pressed her body against his. "You can make me whole again, and then we will talk to them. Fight and I will kill everything within those walls, submit and I may just kill you. You will please me."

Weapon let go of him and Piotr dropped to the ground gasping for air. "We walk now. And you will see what pleases me."

Piotr grunted in pain as she lifted him, her grip tight enough to leave marks and ushered him through the trees. He glanced once behind him and saw Logan and Rogue's silhouetted figures in the moonlight.

Fear held his voice captive as they vanished from his sight into the brush and foliage. The howl that ripped the night air sent a bolt of terror down his spine and he wondered just how bad things would get for him before he could save himself.