Week Two, Friday, 1550 hours.
Rogue was thoroughly pissed with the blonde doctor lady; she was getting used to the intrusive and embarrassing tests, the almost-daily drawing of blood samples, the endless pokings and proddings, the vitamin shots... But that morning, the woman had given her one more injection than usual, and she was feeling somewhat nauseated and crabby. She'd asked the doctor what the new shot was for, and had only gotten a little smile and a pat. That condescending attitude irked her almost as much as the medical tomfoolery; it was bad enough she was being treated like an animal where her body was concerned, but to be ignored and fucking patted like that, as if she were just a stupid dog or something, a base creature unworthy of knowledge concerning its own health... Well, Rogue was in a less-than-pleasant mood when she was ushered into Logan's cell.
Wolverine ran to her and pulled her into the corner, as he usually did upon her arrival, and she was surprised to see several fat white pillows piled up next to some blankets on the floor; he'd thoughtfully arranged them into a comfortable nesting spot, and pressed her eagerly down into the plush makeshift bed, growling.
"Love what you've done with the place," she said, chuckling despite her crabbiness.
He curled around her back, his hands wandering over her curves, and purred into her ear.
"Ah swear, Logan, you never get tired, do ya? Ah can't get in here fast enough for you to start havin' a go."
Her tone said Amusement, but her body said Annoyance. Hmmm. He growled again and nipped her ear.
"Ah don't feel too great right now. Gimme a minute." She rolled over, pushing him away, and sat up. "That damn doctor lady gave me some new shot today, and Ah feel like shit. Wonder what the hell that stuff was."
He inched over to her and kissed her thigh, purring appealingly. Fuck, he'd been looking forward to seeing her and mating with her, had waited very patiently all day - he hadn't even killed the heavily-armed humans who'd brought him the nesting supplies - and now she was being all distant and cranky. She smelled faintly of lemony antiseptic, which meant the white-coated predatorprey humans had been doing something to her; he knew she didn't like that, and he didn't blame her, but it was damned frustrating to wait for so long and then get denied. Gah.
She sighed and stroked his hair absently. "Ah'm sorry, baby. It ain't you. Ah just... Ah wish Ah knew what they were up to! They won't tell me a fuckin' thing, and when they do, it's all cryptic and weird, and they act like Ah don't have any feelings, and--" Frustrated, she burst into tears, sobbing miserably into her hands, her shoulders heaving. She felt awful, inside and out, and she had no freedom, no rights, no fucking life - she had no idea what to do, and while she was grateful to have the company, seeing Logan's blank, worried stare was even more unnerving. "Ah can't take this anymore, Logan, Ah wanna go home!"
Wolverine processed the information rapidly: antiseptic, irritation, near-frantic words, heavy uneasiness, an odd tinge to her scent, and the flood of tears. He'd never seen her cry before - not like that, anyway - and he made a solemn promise to himself then and there that he would tear the person who had upset her so into tiny, twitching little bloody chunks. Nobody made the Wolverine's mate cry. Something bad had happened to her, she wasn't feeling well, and he had a feeling it had something to do with the new edge to her scent; it tickled his nostrils and made his body twitch, and if he hadn't been so worried about her, he'd have already mated with her twice. "Mmm?" he asked, sitting up and coming as close as he dared. He didn't want to crowd her, but the desire to protect and comfort and cherish her was overwhelming.
She put her head on his shoulder and bawled, her arms tight around his ribcage, her body shaking. "God, Logan, Ah wish you could understand me! Ah need your help! We gotta get outta here, you hear me?" Then, suddenly, before he even had time to return the embrace, she pulled away and smacked his chest. "Ah been tellin' you for days now that somethin's goin' on, and all you wanna do is fuck! Don't you even care that you're just as trapped as me? We're animals to them, don't you get it?" She attacked him in a rush of petulance, thumping his chest and shoulders with both hands. "Talk to me, Logan! Fuckin' speak, goddamn it! Help me, for God's sake!"
He pinned her to the floor in one swift movement, his teeth locked on her throat. He was careful not to squeeze too tightly; his plan didn't involve hurting her, but he had to stop her from attacking him like that. It was no good at all to have his mate in such a hysterical state, and he was determined to help her any way he could, but he would not allow her to take her frustrations out on him.
She continued to shove at him for a few moments, then lay still, crying; it didn't do her any good to beat on the one ally she had, and it wasn't his fault he was so messed up. It hadn't taken Rogue long to figure out that it was some kind of drug making Logan into this feral, uncommunicative creature - with all the shit they shot her veins full of, then what must they be doing to keep him under control? "Ah'm sorry," she sobbed, stroking his back. "Ah'm sorry, baby, Ah won't hit you anymore, Ah promise."
Wolverine waited a few more seconds, then increased the pressure of his bite slightly before letting go, asserting his dominance. He gave her a short growl and sat back against the pillows, studying her expression and posture; she lay there, defeated, weeping quietly, and he wondered if he'd been too harsh with her - it wasn't her fault she couldn't speak a language he understood. Well, a language that didn't involve mating, anyway. He felt confused and slightly ashamed, as if he'd struck her or something; he didn't like the idea of her just lying there, suffering, beaten into submission by her clueless mate.
Rogue sat up and crawled over to him, draping her arm across his midsection and sobbing against his ribs; she so wished he could understand, could help, could get them out of that fucking cell, but she was at a complete loss, hopeless and distraught. "Ah'm sorry," she whispered again, squeezing his waist.
He slid down until he could wrap her up in his big arms and purr comfortingly into her hair. "Prrrrr," he soothed, nuzzling her cheek.
She allowed herself to relax in his embrace, savoring the one good thing left in her world: him. "Make it better, Logan," she whispered as he gently licked the salt from her face. "Help me."
He stroked and kissed and soothed her; took his time with pulling her gown off instead of slicing through it; he moved slowly and confidently, trying to make her feel secure; and when he slid into her tight, willing body, he was gentle with her, touching and coaxing and purring. Soon enough, she was responding, and by the time they had finished and lay together in the little nest, she was calm enough to sleep.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
very short chapter - more soon. thanks for reading, and omfg i won an award for this fic! you guys are awesome - THANK YOU!!!