She sat in Xavier’s office waiting for the reprimand to begin. Or, Storm’s office, whatever they were calling it these days, she couldn’t see how it mattered. The image of Logan behind the desk was completely ridiculous to her but she knew it would be him coming in. It should be Storm, since technically it was her jet they took. But she was still by David’s bedside, and didn’t appear to be leaving it any time soon.
It was probably around midnight last night that Dr. McCoy gave them the all clear; he would live. Now that time had past both the anticipation and the relief wore off, allowing their anger and disappointment to once again take center stage.
So she sat alone, in the farthest chair from the regal desk that she could find. Whatever he was going to nail to her she was ready for, because ultimately she was at fault for the entire mission.
She ended up being right about Philip; his head couldn’t take the high altitude. They were only in the air for a few minutes before he collapsed to the floor, screaming in pain and tightly clenching his head in his hands. As the second oldest and experienced that left her to lead the mission.
The destination was an old warehouse, for some reason a common setting for taking down evil. They soon found out that neither Brainwave nor Eric was there. She still couldn’t believe the man who taught her how to drive when her dad was too busy or bought her diamond earrings for her sixteenth birthday was now trying to have them killed.
But when they went in he had left a different kind of present for them. Two, in fact. Juggernaut, a man she recognized well, and a grotesquely large, hairy cat-man. Opting for a divide and conquer strategy she offered to take one of them on her own, since she could tolerate the most beating.
Then David said he could handle the cat-man alone, keep him busy long enough for the other two to take down Juggernaut. It seemed like such a good idea to her, like an actual plan instead of just trying to beat them senseless. So she agreed, because David was such a smart kid. But she made him promise to stay invisible and he agreed.
The two mammoths willingly separated and the girls led Juggernaut up to the second level, eliminating any chance they might have of tag teaming them.
Ricochet kept him distracted with attacks while Chava transported around him, releasing one hinge on his helmet at a time before safely disappearing again. Once they were all off she took it with her. He didn’t even realize it till she was behind Ricochet with a bright silver flash and the heavy bowl in her hands.
Furious, he charged, roaring at them. Ricochet met him half way and was able to build up enough momentum to send them both flying off the ledge of the balcony.
Pulling herself slowly off the ground she was assured the twenty foot drop did no damage to her body while he laid unconscious at her feet. Without the aid of his helmet she won the indestructible contest.
Another bright flash and Chava was beside her. That’s when they heard the scream. His scream.
When they got to them David was already dangling from the large cat-man’s paw wrapped around his throat. Even with the black suit they could easily see the dark stain covering his entire chest. Quickly Chava transported over and grabbed him. With a flash his limp body was away from the mangled paws. Unable to think of anything else Ricochet took her one untouched gun from behind her back and emptied it into the monster. But the damned thing would not die so she fired off the few remaining clips left in her other guns. Luckily the multitude of bullet holes was enough to weaken the creature and convince it to run away.
The minutes they were on the ground, however long it was, was enough for Philip to regained enough control of himself to help them carry David back to the jet, carefully, so they wouldn’t jar him.
Once inside Chava tried to hold him together and control the bleeding with her limited emergency first-aid knowledge. Which meant Ricochet was the only one who could fly the jet. Philip tried to instruct her and easily got her through the lift-off. But it wasn’t long before it became too much for him again, though he tried to fight it and still tell her what to do. By the time they got back to the mansion the stress was too great and he was unconscious on the floor of the plane, a trickle of blood coming out of his nose and ear.
So she sat alone in the office. David’s condition was solely her fault, because she never considered that the cat-man could smell him out. Of course, that was why Philip blamed her too. Within an hour of landing his head was able to mend itself again. He immediately came to her saying there was no excuses. She should have fucking anticipated on him having x-ray vision or a bazooka attached to his arm, it didn’t matter. She should have been ready for anything. And how she should know better than to have left the youngest member of the team to fend for himself, all alone, no matter what he said he could handle.
And he was completely right. She did everything a squad leader shouldn’t. But at the time she didn’t care because she just heard David would be alright and he was no longer convulsing, so she was more than happy to turn the reigns back over to him.
But now, many, many hours later, in the empty office, the feeling of doom settled back over her.
He came in and their eyes met for a second before he gently, especially for him, shut the door behind him. Looking to the desk for a moment he seemed to agree with her and opted for leaning against the wall opposite from her.
Despite everything that happened lately, and the vacant look on her face, she still looked him straight in the eye; even though the usual intensity was gone in them.
“I don’t want to yell at you,” he sighed, and kept his voice low. “I think you’ve had to deal with enough crap lately.”
She nodded, not because she agreed with him, but because she no longer had the energy to fight and argue with him anymore.
“You gonna tell me what the hell you were thinking running off like that?” The tone that came out of his mouth was one he never recognized using before. It felt like the moment where a normal person, with a past, would be faced with the horror of morphing into their parents.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We just wanted to go home.”
“And you didn’t trust us to get you there,” Logan guessed.
She shook her head, causing the hair to fall back into her face. “No. It wasn’t that, not really. We just got tired of waiting.”
“So you thought you’d get yourself and the others killed?” His voice suddenly spike in volume, unintended by him. He assumed it was left over anger from her recklessness.
“No,” she quietly whined. “I’m sorry.”
He could only nod because of course she was sorry, they all already knew that. But he could tell she wasn’t sorry for what she was suppose to be sorry for, stealing private property, namely. They were playing in a whole different ball park now.
“So,” the word escaped his mouth, just to fill the empty air.
“Have you eaten lately?”
“Um… No, not yet,” she answered tentatively, unsure of what that had to do with anything.
Again he nodded and pulled out a cigar from his coat pocket. Pushing off of the wall he produced a lighter from his pack pocket. As soon as it touched his lips he relaxed, savoring in the thick, smoky taste. He took a long, slow drag before talking again. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s on the table.”
“Wait!” She jumped up and he stopped making his way toward the door; his eyebrow rose quizzically. “That’s it? I mean, just like that?”
“I’m not one to lecture anybody,” Logan answered. “Don’t get me wrong here, girly. You fucked up big time. If Storm decides she wants to kick your ass I’m more than willing to hold you down. Now, come on, I’m pretty sure I can smell pizza.”
She followed behind him out into the bolstering hallway. Students were running all over the place in the late afternoon. The noise and crowd around her got no reaction out of her, however. She didn’t even acknowledge them; just stared at Logan’s broad back in front of her.
Without warning a strangled roar emitted from him and he was no longer in her field of vision. She looked up in time to see him collide with a group of students who weren’t quick enough to get out of the way from the barreling projectile. Shock kept her paralyzed in the middle of the hall, the sounds of chaos beginning to wrap all the way around her. Only then Philip’s yell dragged her out of her haze.
“Get up you son of a bitch!”
She had to look between the two a few times before it finally snuck in that he was talking to Logan. Her brain took a few seconds more to process what that really meant.
With the rate he was storming toward him she was surprised she could convince her body to move fast enough. She slammed her body flush against his, pushing him back, and gaining a few feet between him and Logan, who was still trying to get to his feet.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She managed to choke out. It was taking all her strength to hold him back.
“He fucking killed her! You killed my mother, you fucking bastard!”
All the color drained from Logan’s face when the words came hurtling out of the boy’s mouth and straight into his heart. At that moment nothing else existed for him in the tight corridor. Not the kids cowering scared in the doorways. Not the girl desperately standing between them. Just him and the vehement boy.
“I…” Words were refusing to form in his head.
“You what? What asshole?”
But still nothing would come to him, which seemed to infuriate him more.
“Let me go, that fucker killed my mother,” he hissed at Ricochet and tried again to step around her.
“No!” She declared, stepping in front of him again. “Philip, you have to listen to me.”
She took his face in her hands, trying to get his attention away from the source of his blood lust. “She was not your mother. He didn’t kill *your* mom. You can’t take what she did out on him. Please.”
His hands shot up, gripping her upper arms. “Get the fuck off of me!”
Using both his powers and the strength fueled by his rage he threw her away from him a short distance to the left. She collided hard with the wall; the steal enforced oak paneling was unwilling to give way to her bulk. The back of her head bounced an extra time then the rest of her body, leaving a large dent in the grain.
Nothing standing in his way, Philip charged Logan. The claws instinctively shot out when his right fist slammed against his jaw, making his neck turn sharply.
The more he hit him the harder his fists connected with his body. The boy wasn’t picky, he attacked his face and gut with equal ferocity. News insults accompanied all of them. Each made the memory of that night and the woman he had loved speared on his claws clearer and clearer in his head.
He stood there and took the blows willingly, just trying to hold his ground and keep the claws to his side the best he could.
The pain inflamed the beast in him, which kept him from crying. As far as Logan was concerned the kid had every right. He was entitled to every drop of blood that was smeared on his knuckles. Because, for Logan, it wasn’t his knuckles, but Scott’s, the person who really deserved to beat him senseless.
It was easy to imagine him there; the kid was almost identical to him. Hateful blue eyes instead of a visor were the only difference. Ever since that night he wished Scott would just come out, from whatever hell he was in, and do his damnedest to finally be the one to finish him off. For killing his wife or lusting after her, it didn’t matter. Because it was his fault Scott never got the chance to too.
Logan barely felt the air rush past him but the pull of telekinesis was something familiar to him. Astoundingly he managed to hear Marie screaming out his name right before he hit the wall all the way at the end of the hall. It did splinter from his adamantium laced body.
Exhausted Philip stood in the middle of the corridor, his whole frame heaving with large pants of breath. His body was completely spent but the intense anger shined just as bright in his eyes that were starring off at his victim. Rogue was running her hands all over Logan and said something Philip couldn’t pick up because he couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of the blood in his head.
He turned and lethargically walked back the way he came. Each antique wall sconce exploded when he walked past it, making the only light eerie sunlight that somehow managed to leak from the windows inside the class room and through the countless bodies into the hall.
Ricochet couldn’t watch him go up the stairs. And unlike everyone else, didn’t flinch or scream at the small, shattering explosions that were happening all around them.
Once they stopped she knew he was gone. She put her arms on top of her head and slid slowly down the smooth wood, crumbling to the floor.
Turning her head she looked from under her arm towards Logan and Marie.
Logan was a complete mess and she was scared by how slowly he was healing. It was like he was trying to suppress his own mutation, making the pain linger a littler longer.
He mumbled on about Jean, so low even she could barely hear him. Another woman would have been jealous, and normally she would have been too, but he wasn’t saying anything about her beautiful flaming hair or how much he missed her. He was just spewing out random regrets: about killing her and wishing he had found a way to save her. So there was nothing to be jealous about, because she wished the same thing.
Raining kisses all over his head through his hair she kept silent and let him regain himself. Occasionally she glared at the gawking on-lookers, intent on protecting the Wolverine’s pride and reputation.
Even in his emotional state it only took a minute or two for him to heal. Once all the cuts were gone, the bones knitted back together, and the bruises faded, she carefully pulled him to his feet. He willing put his weight on her and she led him down the hall, one arm circled around his waist, the other gently stroking his face while she whispered comforting drabble in his ear.
Ricochet pulled her knees up to her chest and watched them as they approached. Her eyes darted back and forth between their faces frantically, but she could not catch one of their gazes. Instead they walked turned into each other, their foreheads together, only concentrating on each other.
Marie knew she was watching them. She could feel her needy glance. And she felt sorry for the girl, just not enough to leave Logan and go to her. Because the reality of it was she was not her daughter, not anyone to her, not really. And Logan was hers. Her lover. And she had to take care of what was hers before worrying about someone else’s.
They walked past her, seemingly in slow motion. They didn’t look at her, just kept walking as if she wasn’t there. She watched until they were almost entirely up the stairs and then everything crashed in her.
Her onerous head feel to her knees. Long brown hair concealed her face and the tears that werecascading from her eyes. But nothing could hide the jerking quaking of her body from the sobs that racked through her.
She sat alone, for the second time in a span of ten minutes. Surrounded by the thousands of shards of pristine glass and under the gaze of a hundred or so kids who stood in the shadows of the ghostly lit hall way, she curled into a tighter ball and pressed herself as close to the wall as she could, but lacked the ability to make herself disappear.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I know there is a lot going on in the chapter. I'm sorry. But I just couldn't bring myself to break it up. This is the 'emotional climax' of the story, so it like totally heavy, dude. *g*
My poor characters... *pets them* (I'm not worried about Marvel's characters since they're being mean and won't let me have them! :P )
My poor characters... *pets them* (I'm not worried about Marvel's characters since they're being mean and won't let me have them! :P )