Chapter 2
AN: Oh this was horrible to write. I’m not a fan of describing terrain. I hope it’s not too awful. I’ve been editing this chapter for two weeks and it still feels a little clunky. Sorry if anyone else feels that way, and hopefully you’ll stick with me for the next chapter which will start to answer a lot of the questions everyone has. Thanks to everyone that reviewed or added this story to their alerts. I hope you all enjoy it. And to any new readers, remember I give previews to those that review! One last thing, if anyone has any suggestions for scenes they’d like to see in this story as I write it, please let me know. I love adding in fan service. ~Soladara
Logan didn’t bother to wave to the captain, just nodded once to his red haired daughter as she’d waved goodbye. He walked away from the boat cradling Marie in his arms, the bottom of her white sundress blowing against his wrist in the wind as he walked. The dock was elaborate, attesting to the fact that this was an island nation, dependent on merchants to contribute to its gross domestic product. He remembered hearing once that the bulk of its GDP came from the harvest and sale of Vanilla beans. In other words, it was a poor country—no wonder the UN had given it away.
As the sun shone down on him, the sounds of boats unloading everywhere created a buzzing white noise. Some passengers argued, others talked excitedly, and still others walked solemnly towards the signs that read “PROCESSING”. That’s where he and Marie were headed. Knowing things were about to get hot, Logan stayed just between two larger groups of mutants as they funneled towards the large metal gates, careful to keep his head down and his ears open.
Genosha.
It was either going to be a paradise or a death sentence. Scott had scoffed about putting all the worlds “eggs in one basket” and Logan had to agree. The strategist in him was screaming that this was the stupidest move they could have made. Put all the world’s mutants on a single island, and pray to god no one decided to nuke them. Strategically, Genosha was well placed for just that. It was a good 150 miles off the coast of Southern Africa; enough room that a well placed warhead would end the mutant problem and maybe only take out a few African tribes as payment.
But despite that possibility, it was the call of freedom, the promise of a peaceful life that drew the mutants around him. The fact that it had been Magneto who’d called them all, the guy who had knocked Osama Bin Ladin off the top of the Terrorist chart, didn’t seem to bother them. And why should it? The UN had agreed to pardon Magneto, and all of his war crimes against all allied nations, and all he had to do was take over and rule one tiny little island country. They even gave him a line of credit to get the rebuilding efforts underway. True to form, the old mutant had laughed in their faces at the thought of taking “human” money, and had stated in no uncertain terms, that he and his mutant brethren would build their world without human interference. Logan thought he was a cocky bastard, but had to acknowledge his balls.
Of course, first Magneto had to get the militia fighters and drug cartels out. Rumor had it the battles were still raging, that the humans weren’t quite ready to leave the small island. Logan could understand, until just a few months ago, it was off the grid, an excellent place to stage the kind of criminal activity that kept the world supplied with cocaine and L17Joy.
But when Magneto had sent the call out to mutants to join him on Genosha, he’d called it the Land of Tolerance, and the media had hyped it, playing his message of mutant freedom from oppression on every public and private TV, radio, and satellite station, downplaying or ignoring possible fighting that still continued on Genosha’s shores. Within the first week, thousands of mutants had descended on the tiny island nation—the media had shown that too. By the end of the first month, in the heat of a full July summer, Magneto was claiming 50,000 mutant residents. Rumors escaped that this wasn’t just some hoax at world domination either, that schools were being built, hospitals too; that agencies were contacted and mutant children lost in the system were being sent overseas, and large supplies of building materials were arriving daily. There were even some reports that Magneto was working with UN governments to turn over mutant criminals to be “Evaluated by the Sovereign Nation of Genosha, to determine if their crimes were against humanity or the world”. It was implied that crimes against humanity would be pardoned.
It was the newsfeed from late August that had ended Logan’s internal debate. At the news conference it was obvious something had changed. The old frail man Erik Lennsher had been was gone. Somehow, in connection with some mutant, he’d found a fountain of youth. Gone was the grizzled figure of a man past his prime. This man had dark brown hair, coiffed and tailored into a style that spoke of power. His frame wasn’t thin and wiry, but muscular, broad, and imposing. His voice had sounded younger, but the accent was still there, the message still as clear as ever. Somehow he’d shaved forty years off his designer suit frame, and looked to be about thirty-five. He hadn’t bothered to entertain questions about his appearance, and after the first one, the other reporters didn’t bother asking. No one seemed to think it strange, just another mutant thing; and no one questioned if it was the real Magneto; no one could pull off that superior arrogance quite like the man himself.
Lennsher had talked about The Sovereign Nation of Genosha—his Land of Tolerance. He had preached about closed borders, self sufficiency, and protection from persecution. He promised safety for children and adults alike, promised that they had the resources to sustain a population of up to a million, and have room to grow. He’d promised in his unwavering cadence that human children born in Genosha would be full citizens, would be taught not inferiority, but acceptance and equality. That Genosha was a way for mutants to protect themselves and give the “slower human population” time to accept them as the inevitable evolution of their species. His voice had been deep, and sure, his pride had shone in his eyes as he’d turned to look at the red, gold, and black uniformed guards he’d brought with him. It hadn’t escaped Logan’s notice that both Mystique and Pyro were present in the red and gold. He’d thought it a little odd that Mystique would still be following Magneto around, especially after everything the bastard had done to her, but who was he to throw stones, he’d stayed with Xavier for six months after he’d fried Marie’s brain.
If Logan allowed himself to actually hear Lennsher’s message, not though the ears of a man who’d held a dying teenager atop the Statue of Liberty, but as a mutant who’d hid what he was for almost twenty years—maybe longer—he had to admit it sounded good. Maybe too good. No, probably way too good. Their lives were never going to be that uncomplicated. So there had to be a hidden catch, something that glorified refrigerator magnet wasn’t telling them. It made Logan want to hold Marie closer, somehow hide her in the folds of his jacket and tell the world to go to hell. But he knew he couldn’t, so he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, looked down at his beautiful girl, and kept walking like the good little lemming that he was.
Surprisingly the tropical island wasn’t overly tropical. The humidity was definitely higher than what he was used to in upstate New York or the cold unforgiving tundra of Canada, but it wasn’t overly oppressive, and he was sure that in her sleeveless sundress, Marie wasn’t uncomfortable. He smiled at that. She’d probably like the climate here. He guessed it had to be more like her native Mississippi. She’d sometimes talked about showing him her old town, but he’d known it was an empty, whimsical promise, so he’d never held her too it. But still, she’d probably like the sun; at least her feet would be warm.
The path from the docks was dirt, and Logan suspected that dirt roads were going to be the norm in this place. The earthy smell was perpetuated by the large broad leafed vegetation that grew on either side of the road and Logan couldn’t help thinking about the entrance way to Jurassic Park. He sort of had the same feeing actually, as if he were entering a place that was wonderful, scary, and probably going to eat him alive. Yeah, it was a real reassuring feeling.
“How old is she?” A middle aged woman with jet black hair and gold eyes had pulled back from the crowd in front of him to walk to Logan’s left. She looked kind enough, if not a little tired, with generous laugh and frown lines that aged her in a pleasant way. She carried a duffle much like his and Marie’s—her bag wasn’t full either.
He glanced at the group in front of him and realized that she wasn’t a part of it, just another mutant trying to hide in a crowd; trying not to isolate herself. She didn’t appear to have an obvious mutation, so he didn’t pay her much mind, but he did pull Marie closer to his chest, his fingers tightening around her arm and thigh—looks could be deceiving. “Just turned 21 a few weeks ago.”
The woman smiled sadly, and it reached her eyes. For a moment she looked like she might want to touch Marie, but her hand never rose from its grip around the shoulder strap of the duffle. Instead, she seemed to gravitate closer by a fraction of an inch, not crowding him, more like an instinct that wouldn’t let her look at a child and not offer comfort. “So young, ” she stated softly, and he nodded but didn’t comment; there wasn’t anything to say, she was right, Marie was too young.
The path before them winded to the right sharply, and just through the trees his senses could pick up the movements of people walking in formation. Magneto’s guards were patrolling the forest, their footfalls cracking the dry vegetation. He doubted they’d have guns, Magneto wasn’t an idiot, the guy would put his best men on the job of guarding the intake operation. It gave off a feeling of security, as well as a warning show of force. Logan watched them shift in and out of the light beams, taking note that most of them weren’t much older than Marie, and that they were sloppy at best. These may be Magneto’s best men, but they obviously needed work. Little or no training, it would get them all killed.
The crowed before him slowed and then stopped abruptly, and Logan realized he was in a long line of colorful mutants leading up to three tables equipped with laptop computers, six workers, and about fifteen red and gold armored guards. Those guys were carrying guns. Great, just what they needed, guns.
The dark haired woman shifted nervously in front of him, and her movements were distracting. He glanced at her, watching her shift from foot to foot, gripping the rough leather strap of the duffle bag over and over, her eyes constantly moving. Suddenly he wanted to growl, to ask her what the hell she was doing there in the first place if she was this nervous, but he kept his mouth shut. Yelling at her wouldn’t do any good, in fact, it would probably make her more nervous—he had that effect on people. Instead he took a deep breath, caught the scent of cinnamon and looked down at his sleeping girl.
God she was beautiful. Those silver streaks did her soft face justice, giving her that ethereal look in her sleep. Her pink lips were parted just slightly, and he could smell her peppermint breath as she breathed lightly, slowly, softly into the moist air. Dark lashes framed crescent moon eyes, and with months of sleep, her flawless skin was beautifully pale. Even her button cute nose drew his attention, and he traced it with his eyes. The hardness of her final months of consciousness was gone, having been replaced by softness, and it suited her.
She’d been through so much, seen so much more than any girl child should ever have to see. He wanted to hold her tighter, shelter her from everything that had happened, hide her away from this world that hated and feared her; that made her hate herself. He wanted to protect her, and he would, because she was beautiful, and perfect, because she deserved more than this life could ever offer her, more than he could ever give her.
“It’s funny,” the dark haired woman said, not bothering to turn fully around. Her voice was low, for his ears only as she spoke over her shoulder, her eyes trained on the forest, seeing the shifting guards. “Children want so very little from us. Love, hope, compassion, and what they give back is so much more than what they ask for.” Then she turned, her eyes looking down on Marie. “I’m sure if she could, she’d tell you you were doing a great job.” She paused, her gold eyes meeting his, “That she loved you very much,” she paused, “I’m sure.”
He didn’t know what to say. Had she heard his thoughts? So he nodded his head at her, and then he was certain, maybe it was her age, or the drawn lines around her eyes, maybe it was the sad smile or the wistful look, but he was sure, she’d left at least one baby back home, and something about that tugged at his heart. Then she gave him a half smile and turned away, looking to her left.
And from their left, came a soft but firm voice, a familiar voice that still brought him a touch of pain to hear, “Wolverine.”
He hadn’t been paying attention and he cursed silently to himself. To his immediate left stood Johnny St. John. The kid had matured, his face wasn’t quite as innocent anymore, his hair a little longer in the front, brushing eyes that were hard and unyielding. He’d grown a few inches, which was why he was now looking Logan straight in the eye. His hands—on either side of his body, waist level—were holding two fireballs, which were swirling with a dance of brilliant, hypnotic colors but gave off no heat. He was dressed in dark red and gold armor with an insignia on his right breast pocket that Logan was sure meant something dangerous. The kid—naw he wasn’t a kid anymore, not this one, maybe he’d never really been a kid in the first place—looked surprised to see him, and even more surprised to see him carrying his old friend, but his stance was guarded, ready for a fight.
Logan pulled Marie impossibly closer to his chest.
“I’m not here to cause trouble, Johnny. I came to see Magneto.”
He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting. But it wasn’t to see a confused look come over Johnny’s face, or to see him lower his hands and for those balls of orange flame swirl into sparks before going out. John cocked his head and took a step back, his eyes going from his face to Marie’s. It was obvious he wanted to ask, but his mind was still assessing the situation, even if his body had already determined it was going to trust him. Those dark eyes rose to meet his again, then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “What happened to her?” His voice was caught between commanding and worried, and Logan thought, not for the first time, that Johnny had made the hardest decision of his life when he’d left his friends behind in favor of Magneto’s outstretched hand.
Logan took a breath, trying to figure out the best way to explain. Then he decided hedging wasn’t going to win him any favors, so he waited until Pyro’s chocolate brown eyes rose once again from Marie’s face to meet his, then said with a slight growl, “Xavier happened to her.”
That, obviously wasn’t what Johnny expected to hear, “What?”
Logan smirked, but it wasn’t in humor, it was with thinly veiled violence, “Xavier decided she needed to be shut down.”
“Why?”
He didn’t hesitate, “Long story. Now, we can stand out here while your guards point those guns at us, making all these mutants nervous and twitchy, or you can take me to Magneto and we can get down to business—you’re call, Kid.”
Logan was a natural leader, and Pyro, a natural follower, so it didn’t surprise him when the kid—because no matter what, he was still a kid—stepped back to let Logan exited the line. Around them the other mutants turned to look at them fear and worry written across their faces as the gun sights followed Logan out of line and down the dirt path. The crackle of the radios filled the air with shouting soldiers, and he could hear the guards asking for orders now that an X-Man had been spotted. He saw John lift his right wrist to his mouth when the demand for the identity of the X-Man came over the line, “X-Man is Wolverine. He’s carrying Rogue. Not hostile, send the guards to processing for escort to the citadel.”
Logan couldn’t help it, “Not hostile?” He arched an eyebrow and smirked as he moved to walk beside his old student.
Johnny turned then and gave him a pointed look, the sarcasm full in his voice. “What kind of damage you think you can do lugging around that skinny sack of potatoes.” Then his eyes softened and he looked unsure of himself, “What do you mean the Professor did that to her?”
The sound of marching footsteps caught his attention and he looked up in time to see four mutants in similar but different armor suits to Pyro’s. They watched him warily, and Logan smiled, knowing his reputation proceeded him. But the smile dropped away when he realized he wasn’t here to show off, he was here to beg.
“I’ll explain John, I promise.”
Johnny turned away, his eyes focused forward, but Logan saw the tension enter his body. He and Rogue hadn’t been the best of friends, but they were friends.
The people in the line watched them pass. The murmurs were indistinguishable, but the tone was soft, questioning and frightened. The guards stood a little ways up the path, and people moved out of the way and stood at the side as Logan and Johnny approached. Logan didn’t recognize any of them, but he took a deep drag of the air around them, memorizing their scents. The air was heavy with their sweat, their fear, and though most of the guards didn’t look outwardly afraid, their eyes shift left and right. They’d heard about him, or at least the X-Men, and they were wary.
Good, they should be.
Johnny’s voice was full of authority when he spoke to the guards, “We’re taking these two up to see Magneto. Fall in line and keep a look out for back up.”
So maybe Johnny-boy didn’t trust him all that much after all. Logan watched the stiff line of the kid’s shoulders. “There’s no back up, and I wouldn’t expect any of the X-Men to show up beating down your door anytime soon.”
Johnny shrugged, not bothering to turn to look at him, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”
He could have left it alone, could have held his tongue, but this wasn’t some stranger, this was a kid he’d trained, and surprisingly, Logan was pleased with the results. The fact that John was batting for the other team, bothered him only up until the point he realized he was about to be batting for that team as well. “Naw, kid, you shouldn’t.” His tone was full of pride, and he gave Johnny a smirk when the kid turned wide eyes on him.
“Right…”
As they walked further and further down the path, in and out of the full foliage, the sun beat down upon them. Logan looked down at Marie, lifted her up and pressed his cheek to her forehead to check her temperature. He didn’t want her to overheat.
Beside him, Johnny stopped forcing the group to stop as well. He gave Logan a strange look, and then with hesitant fingers, he reached out his ungloved hand and touched Marie’s shoulder. The look of awe that crossed his face was almost beautiful. John knew what that simple touch would have meant to her, how important it was in light of all the touches she couldn’t have. Brown eyes met brown eyes, and the look Johnny gave him was one Logan hadn’t seen before, a sort of knowing look, a dawning realization of what he had seen. But whatever it was, the boy kept it to himself, and he turned back around and proceeded up the steady incline, Logan and the guards following.
The group was quiet, the crackling of the radio the only sound. Logan didn’t bother listening to the calls going back and forth as Magneto’s guards tried to figure out what was going on. He found the entire operation sloppy at best, a thin veil of organization over an otherwise mass of gun toting chaos. He was surprised no one had gotten killed yet—hell, maybe someone had. This was a sad excuse for response time to a crisis, and if Marie was going to be staying here, things were going to improve.
These were Logan’s thoughts as they continued the quarter mile through the forest. In his mind he was racking up the kill points against these bumbling idiots. By his count, he’d have gotten 33 of them before he caught his first glance at what John had called the Citadel.
Genosha had a no fly zone over it, news cameras couldn’t get within thirty miles of its oceanic boarders, so the structures present were unknown to the outside world. Maybe then it shouldn’t have been a surprise, maybe just knowing the type of man Magneto was should have made it a given, but Logan was taken aback anyway, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the massive structure that rose gleaming and powerful out of the jungle. It must have been ten stories tall, with five large turrets that rose to varying heights over the jungle landscape. The outside of the building was whitewashed, gleaming in the sun’s intense rays. Windows in the building were not made of glass, but open holes directly into the structure. They wound around the base of the building and up the turrets, offering dark glimpses into the world beyond those walls. Large satellite dishes and other electronic paraphernalia were affixed to the upper balconies, as well as guard stations equipped with the shining markers of night vision scopes.
As they drew closer, the lower walls of the outer gates came into focus. Ten feet tall they rose out of the jungle to completely surround the citadel, offering a physical barrier to prying eyes and advancing armies. Before him stood the massive gate which was made of solid metal, steel maybe, and Logan watched as the hinges moved soundlessly opening before them. To the right and left sentries watched them warily, curious about the dark haired girl in a pretty white sundress being carried by a man that looked like he could rip them all to shreds. Logan heard dogs barking, knew they were employing attack dogs, and distinctly heard a German command issued before the barking stopped. He filed the word away in case he ever needed to use it.
Past the gates, a long courtyard opened before him, lined on either side by dozens and dozens of mutants. Some openly stared, some watched from the corner of their eyes, and others still gave them no consideration. Logan didn’t take too much time to assess them or what was going on behind the great wall of Magneto citadel; nothing beyond the cocks and clicks of weapons being assembled and cleaned was really worthy of his notice. What was worthy, what had captured his undivided attention as the group moved ever closer to the large white structure, was the leader of this castle.
Surrounded by mutants in black and gold armored body suits, Magneto struck an imposing figure, standing at the top of thirty steps that seemed to rise out of the white rock itself. He was tall, handsome, and Logan had to admit, distinguished as he looked down at them. He couldn’t mistake the quirk of a dark eyebrow as those ageless eyes took in Rogue’s unconscious form, but the man made no immediate comment, just turned to Pyro when the group stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“They came alone?” His voice was strong, commanding, and yet, seemed to have a soft gentility to it. He was in charge, but Johnny, this boy who was not yet a man, was worth his consideration.
Johnny didn’t seem to notice, he nodded. “Yah.” He looked at Marie and indicated Logan, “He says Xavier did this to her.”
That caught Magneto’s attention. “Is that so?” And then for the first time he looked directly at Logan, and the full weight of that man’s stare actually made his heart take an extra beat—it was a powerful stare, one that said he wasn’t afraid. “I wonder what she did to warrant such a reaction from Charles.”
It wasn’t that Magneto’s tone had been harsh or critical, but the very idea that Marie had somehow done something to deserve her fate was more than Logan could stand. Curling in on himself he leaned into a crouch, a growl growing behind his teeth which he bared unconsciously. His grip around Marie tightened and his eyes widened into a wild look. He was ready to defend her, against anyone or anything, his Marie.
His change in posture and demeanor did not go unnoticed.
"Well, this is certainly an unexpected reaction." That damn superior smirk was firmly in place, making Logan's gut twist and his crouch sink lower. He heard the guns in the courtyard cock, knew they were pointed in his direction, and didn't give a fuck. Beside him Johnny took a step back, out of the line of fire.
His eyes never left the sadistic ones in front of him, but Logan knew this was a fight he couldn't win. He wanted to, wanted to pop his claws, charge the steps, slam his fists into regenerated flesh and twist. The prick deserved it, for what he'd done to Marie. But that was something he couldn’t afford to do.
The growl in the back of his throat died, slowly, and he rose cautiously out of the crouch, his body uncurling from around Marie's. This wasn't the time or the place, and if he thought with a clear head, the question made sense. He hated it, wanted to reject it, but could he? Could he really deny the fact that the question had merit?
Yeah he could, and he would if the bastard ever brought it up again. His girl hadn't done anything to deserve this, not a goddamned thing.
With a roll of his shoulders he stood erect, his body just as rigid as the one beside him. Johnny had his hands up, panic rolling off him in waves as he tried to get the guards to stand down. Logan wondered if it was for his own skin, or Marie's.
Sparing a glance at the kid he decided it was definitely for Marie’s; those chocolate eyes were trained on her serene face with a mixture of sick and sadness. This was not the kind of death Johnny wanted for the girl in Logan’s arms.
Slowly, he rolled his head back to Magneto, his voice steady as he spoke, "She didn't do anything worth what she got. And that’s something you should remember, Bub." His eyes grew hard, and he spared a glance at the guards around the man before him then turned, looking for the first time at the dozens of armed men and women ready to defend their leader. He felt a moment of sick fascination, that these men and women would pledge their lives for a man that would so easily throw them away for the cause. It was sad and pathetic, and Logan realized as he turned around to face Magneto again, probably a better life than most of them had had before pledging their allegiance to the piper.
He cleared his throat. "They say you're takin' in stray's Magneto; that the UN gave you this nice new country and you're filling it with mutants. By the looks of things on the docks, and around here, I'd say that was fact."
The man before him broadened his smirk, "Indeed, you are correct, Wolverine. Though I must admit, I did not expect to pick up any "strays" from Charles' school," he looked down at Marie, "or his X-Men."
Logan shrugged, lifting the shoulder holding Marie's knees so as not to jar her head. "The price got too high to stay there."
At this Magneto's smirk broadened into a full smile, "And you think the price here will be more acceptable?"
For a second, a long second, Logan just looked at him, and in that second the smile died on young roguish lips, and darkness crawled behind blue eyes that had seen far too much. In that second, Logan assessed and then decided on a course of action. When he spoke, his tone was even and firm, "You can name whatever price you want, so long as you find a way to wake Rogue up."
The silence that followed was much longer than the one that proceeded it. Johnny shifted uncomfortably, soldiers twitched nervously, and all but one of Magneto's guard turned to look at their leader. The one that didn't, a beautiful blond woman wearing an all white business suit, simply stood next to Magneto, her crystal blue eyes never once leaving Logan's face.
He should have been nervous, should have come up with some kind of escape plan, but the fact of the matter was there was no escape plan this time, this was it, it was make it or break it time. He'd laid his cards on the table, every last one of them, and now the best Logan could hope for was something he could live with. He wasn't hoping for the best, he'd do his worst if he had to.
At the top of the stairs Magneto leaned his head back and cocked it to the right. Beside him the blond smiled, her eyes twinkled with a sort of evil pleasure. Her voice was clear as a bell, with a slight British accent that spoke volumes about her upbringing. "He's telling the truth. Xavier did shut her down, and he is willing to do whatever you want him to to wake her up. I'm surprised by the depth of his conviction to do whatever you want him too, but he seems to be a man of strong convictions. However, whether the child deserved what happened to her is open to interpretation. I can't get a clear image from his mind, but whatever it was, at least a part of him believes she needed to be stopped at the time."
Figures, a telepath. What the hell were they, a fucking dime a dozen? Could you just walk in and buy one at freaking Kmart now? Christ, just what he needed, another head witch.
The blond scoffed, and Logan fixed her with his glare. "Original, like I haven't heard that one before." She rolled her eyes and then turned to address her leader. "He's a simple man, his thoughts are mostly animalistic, but his devotion to the girl is obvious. Properly motivated, he could be worth your time."
Those cool ageless eyes were upon him, but it was the woman Magneto addressed, "Can you wake her?"
The blond cocked her head contemplating, and then she moved. Her steps were fluid, graceful, and measured. She walked like a supermodel, calm, collected, and confident that she was the most beautiful creature in the room, and that all eyes belonged on her.
Logan thought she looked like a Barbie.
His quick eyes didn't miss the briefest falter in her step. This ice queen wasn't completely unshakeable; he smirked.
She tisked as she descended the stairs. "What woman is?" And Logan cursed in his mind, every swear word he'd ever used against Jean and her ridiculous mind-fucks, just to keep Blondie out.
At the bottom of the stairs she approached, and it was a credit to her craft that she knew not to make any sudden movements while he held the most precious thing in his world so close to his chest. Her bobbed, straight haircut moved in the faint breeze, and Logan smelled freesia on the air that blew past him. Her tailored white suit looked out of place in the middle of the jungle, but she somehow pulled it off, made it look effortless.
Suddenly his shoulders relaxed, his body lost its tension, and Marie slipping just a little further out of his deathlike grip. This woman was dangerous, no doubt about it; if she was standing next to Magneto when he went to confront an X-Man, then she was definitely dangerous; but something about her didn't fire all his warning bells off. She was cultured, refined, a real lady, and for some unknown reason, she put his mind at ease. He thought for a moment she was doing it, making him trust her, but she seemed just as surprised as their eyes met for the briefest instance and her blue ones widened. He might never figure this out, might never understand why at that moment he decided to trust a complete stranger, but he did, he knew it was the right thing to do. So he dropped her eyes, and looked down at Marie, his sleeping angel, and waited for the blond to approach.
Long delicate and manicured hands reached out and gently touched Marie's temple. He looked up then to watch those cool blue eyes empty, knowing from all those times watching Jean that she was somewhere else. His fingers flexed around Marie's shoulder but he held still. As he waited, the tension tried to build back up in his body, but he forced it down. Doubt surfaced in his mind. What if she couldn't wake Marie up? Were there other, stronger telepaths? Could there be a stronger telepath than Xavier? If she couldn't, what then?
The silence stretched on for a minute, then two, then three, but Logan held perfectly still, switching between Marie's calm and beautiful expression, and the vacant eyes of the blond before him.
He felt the pull in his body before he heard steel soled boots hitting white rock. With measured steps, Magneto and his guards descended the stairs separating them, bringing them within striking distance of Logan's claws. Confidence hung thick in the air as once again those icy blue eyes locked on his. Johnny rounded the blond and went to Magneto's left; sparing Logan a glance, before he focused back on watching Marie's face. Logan took note of the fact that the guards parted for Johnny to take his place at Magneto’s side.
That tempoed aristocratic accent was warm as it slid over Logan’s senses, "If she cannot awaken the girl, what do you plan on doing then, Wolverine?"
He glanced again at those vacant eyes before looking at Magneto. "Find someone who can."
"And if there is no one save Charles himself?" There was no malice in his returning question.
He didn't hesitate, "Then Chuck is going to wake her up."
An expressive eyebrow rose, "I have no doubt that you tried persuading Charles to release her long before the idea of coming here and asking for my assistance ever crossed your mind. Therefore, I must reason that you intend to force my old friend to help your," he paused, "young charge?"
Logan smiled, a real, genuine, terrifying, smile that bared his teeth and put wild fire in his eyes. "I ain't gonna stop until Rogue's awake. If I've gotta take out every X-Man to get to Xavier, and then show him his own entrails before he does it, then I that’s what I’ll do."
It was a ridiculous thing to say, how he could hope to do it before Xavier shut down his mind just like he had Marie's was a huge hole in his master plan, and they both knew it. But what was also clear, was the Logan would succeed, there was no doubt, no question, only conviction.
Only power of purpose.
Magneto cocked his head, "You will not succeed."
Logan shrugged, "Been told that one before. Wasn’t true then, won’t be true this time neither."
A bark of laughter escaped Magneto then, and around him, Logan heard the uncomfortable surprise of those around them. Obviously, they didn't know Magneto had a sense of humor--hell, he wouldn't have known either, except Marie had told him, shared a few of the more colorful jokes, and biting humor. If Logan didn't hate the guy’s guts, he might actually like the guy. "So impulsive and reckless. No wonder you so often fail to see what is right in front of you."
That gave him pause, "Whatdaya mean?"
That smirk was back, "I me--"
Suddenly the blond jerked, her whole body pulled back as if hit by some massive jolt, and a gasp escaped her throat, strangled and choked. The hand that had been touching Marie's temple twitched, then pulled back to cover her mouth as her large eyes widened in horror, and a chilling half scream escaped her trembling body. She took a step back, but when she tried to take another, Magneto reached out his arm and caught her about the shoulders. She didn't seem to notice, her eyes, filled with rejection stared at Marie, her head subtly shaking back and forth. Magneto's hands went up and gripped her shoulders, turning her to look at him. When her head remained facing Marie, large gloved hands cupped her face and turned her to look at him.
"Emma?" Logan had never heard this man gentle, thought Marie had told him once that Magneto was not what he appeared to be. But this, this quietly spoken caress of a name seemed too intimate to come from a man feared the world over. It didn't fit, and it felt uncomfortable.
Emma blinked, once, twice, and then jerked out of his grip and rounded on Logan. She retook her retreated steps and placed her right hand on Marie's forehead. Then her face lifted, and Logan knew the news was bad, he braced himself, took a deep breath.
"We need to get her inside...she's...very hungry."
Logan blinked, then leaned back away from her, his brow furrowing as she turned back to Magneto. What the fuck?
The woman, Emma, gave him what she must have thought was a patient smile, it came out pained at best. "She needs to be reconnected to the feeding tubes, she's been off them too long." She paused then, before looking back at Marie, and then behind her at Magneto. "If you feel the same way you did before, then we need to get her inside."
He didn't have time to contemplate what that last statement meant, because Magneto simply gave a curt nod and turned, ascending the stairs, calling over his shoulder as the guards flanked him on either side, "This way, Wolverine."
Logan didn't hesitate; just fell in line behind Emma and entered the citadel, Marie once again, held impossibly close to his heart.
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