Chapter Three
Logan felt panic thunder through his veins as Marie fell into his arms. He could feel the warm seeping of her blood onto his shirt, and watched her eyes fill up with pain. Her fingers clutched weakly at his oxford, leaving bloody smears on the collar when she sunk further into him.
“Marie,” he said urgently, tilting her head back and brushing the platinum hair out of her eyes. “Stay with me, Marie.”
Her eyelids slowly drifted shut, then jarred open suddenly as she struggled to stay awake. She was losing blood, a lot of blood, and fast. “Logan,” she murmured, and went completely limp.
“Shit,” he growled, lowering her to the asphalt. He swiftly unbuttoned his bloody oxford, and pressed it into the cut so he could stop the bleeding, even if a little bit. His efforts seemed to get him nowhere, and he swore again. , lifting her carefully into his arms. As quickly as he could without hurting her, he hurried to the spot where his truck was parked, mercifully close by. He slowly deposited her into the passenger seat, making sure to buckle her up in a way that wouldn’t press too much on her wound.
He shoved the gear shift into drive just as rain started to patter against his windshield, and took off faster than he could ever remember.
He hadn’t been to the Xavier mansion in at least seven years, and he could only hope desperately that he still knew the way there. It may have been his desperation that fueled him, or maybe the overwhelming and growing scent of blood that was flooded every crevice of his car, but he made it to the gates in less than twenty minutes. Screeching to a halt at the front steps, he threw open his car door, barely registering as he shut it again, and barreled around to the other side. He opened her door, unbuckled her, and slowly lifted her back into his embrace.
He kicked the car door shut, and made his way up to the door as fast as he could. He shifted her in his arms, feeling her body temperature decrease both from the blood loss and the cold rain that was pelting down on them. Chuck, he thought desperately, calling upon a part of his mind he hadn’t used in ages. Chuck, open your god damned door. Marie’s hurt.
Less than a minute after sending the frantic message with his mind, the massive front doors were flung open, and a young man wearing khaki pants, a blue polo, and strange red glasses stood in the doorway. “Give her to me,” he demanded, and Logan brushed past him with a glare.
“Not on your damn life,” he growled, and made his way into the entrance hall. The mysterious young man blocked his pathway, essentially cutting him off from making any further progress into the home. Logan rolled his eyes in pure frustration, painfully aware that Marie was bleeding even more in his arms.
“You don’t even know where the medical bay is,” the stranger protested. “I’ll take you.” His gaze seemed to lower to Marie, and he visibly swallowed. “She needs to be okay,” he whispered, breath hitching in his throat. He turned abruptly and motioned for Logan to follow him.
* * *
Ten minutes later, he found himself standing in the med lab, watching as the largest and…well, bluest man he’d ever encountered fretted over the unconscious form of Marie. Upon entering through the automatic doors, the massive man had quickly extracted the blood soaked Marie from Logan’s arms and deposited her onto one of the beds, and hooked her up to an IV that replaced the blood she had lost. He had made quick work of assessing Marie’s injury, and had managed to determine that the wound had gone through one section of her side and exited three inches away from where it entered. The amount of torn skin, combined with the two cuts instead of one, was the explanation for the amount of blood that had been lost. All in all, the wound was quite superficial, bleeding more than was strictly necessary for the damage she had suffered.
Hank, as the large blue mutant had introduced himself, was in the midst of stitching up the first wound when Xavier finally made it to the lab. “What happened,” he demanded softly, his gaze landing on Logan.
Logan relayed the story of what had happened in the parking lot, how he had been walking her to her car when the mugger jumped out at them, how Logan had forgotten about Marie and dodged the first attack, leaving her vulnerable to stabbing.
Charles’s jaw clenched, worried eyes skimming over Marie. “We can only be thankful that she is now in good hands. Hank is a friend of hers—he will make sure she is okay.”
Logan shot a quick glance at the telepath, nostrils flaring briefly. “She knows?”
“Knows what?” the man in the glasses interrupted.
Xavier sighed. “Logan. Scott. Will the both of you join me in my study?”
* * *
As the door to his study shut, Scott projected a message out to Professor Xavier. Charles, I don’t know if I trust this guy.
Relax, Scott, was the answer he received. Logan is Marie’s History teacher and a fellow mutant. He seems to be unaware of the deadly nature of her skin, and I believe that while he is a trustworthy man, that information should be kept from him for now.
Okay.
“Logan,” Xavier said, turning to face the teacher. “Please, have a seat.”
Logan sat down next to Scott grudgingly. He didn’t like the little punk’s attitude, and sitting immediately next to him wasn’t something he really wanted to do. He glanced down at himself, and was reminded that his clothes were splashed with dark patches of blood. Uncomfortable, he looked back up at the Professor. “So. She knows?”
Xavier nodded, understanding what the other man meant by his question. “Of course. I was honest with her from the very beginning. There has not been any moment during her stay at the mansion where she was unaware of my true business. She has several close friends who attend the school here, all of whom have their own…unique abilities. Marie has assimilated herself quite nicely into the environment here.”
“Is that why the Boy Scout over here,” he gestured to Scott, “Called her ‘Rogue’ when he was on the phone with her?”
Scott shot him a look. “How do you know that.”
“It’s part of his mutation, Scott,” the Professor answered quietly. “Logan possesses amazing healing abilities, along with enhance sight, smell, and hearing. As well as other capabilities.”
“What do you mean?” Scott demanded, hands tightening on the armrests of the chair he was in. “What can he do?”
Logan raised a fist in front of his face, and with a quiet ‘zing’, three metal claws shot from between his knuckles, ending dangerously close to Scott’s face. “This,” he growled, and retracted his claws. “Fucking adamantium bonded to my skeleton, courtesy of one William Stryker.”
Scott’s already straight back stiffened a great deal more, and his face lost it’s coloring quickly. “S-Stryker?” His eyes shot towards Charles. “Professor…is that the same-“
“Yes, Scott,” Charles interrupted, silencing the younger man. “He is. That, however, is a topic for another time.”
Logan felt the beginnings of a growl start to rumble through his chest. These two men were keeping something from him, something that had to do with the man who’d stolen an unknown amount of years from him, who had been the cause of every nightmare he had had over the past ten years.
“Logan.”
He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Charles’s voice, and, when he noticed Scott looking down at his hands, horrified, that his hands were squeezing the armrests so hard that the wood had begun to crack. Loosening his grip, he sighed. “She knows about me.”
“How?” Scott blurted out.
Logan sent him a withering look, and said, “Bastard managed to get me on the cheek, remember? I knocked him out, turned to Marie…and she saw the cut heal.” He rubbed his skin where the cut had been, running from his cheekbone and disappearing into his sideburns.
“Oh dear,” Xavier murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It appears we have found ourselves in quite the predicament.”
And the only thing Logan could think to say was, “Damn right.”