The attack on the compound was well-planned. Storm created what appeared to be a normal mountain thunderstorm, providing visual cover as well as electrical interference, and causing the guards outside the compound to take off their metal helmets for their own safety. Jean and Emma promptly took care of them, and found the highest ranking officer; it was Emma who infiltrated the base with him. He found the back door, and quietly opened it for the X-men waiting outside.

Logan couldn’t help but notice claw marks on the edge of the door: his.

Scott and Hank moved to take over the control room. Johnny waited just outside the door, smirking knowingly to himself as he hefted a heavy steel pipe in his hands and leaned against a wall: the picture of patient anger, smoking cigarettes.

Logan sought out Stryker. His search brought him to a surgical room, a concrete cage with no windows, again with a few familiar claw marks in the stone, and an all-too-familiar tank of blue-green liquid, near a heated, bubbling containment unit of adamantium. There were x-rays on two lit-up walls: Yuriko’s, side by side with Rogue’s.

Rogue was here, clad in a new leather uniform that was smoother and less embroidered than those of the X-men. Her back was to him. Stryker stood next to her, adjusting something on Rogue’s neck: a metal collar. Rogue stiffened, and turned to look over her shoulder, her gaze fixing on Logan. Her eyes were pale blue edged in green, and they did not register recognition or curiosity; it was unclear as to whether she could actually see him at all.

Stryker followed her gaze and leapt back, a look of shock and horror crossing his face.

Logan growled low. Deep down, he knew that he’d always wanted to see that look on the puppetmaster’s face.

“You! What are you doing here?”

“What the Hell do you think?” Logan snarled, and unleashed the claws.

Stryker sneered and pointed at him, commanding Rogue, “Kill him!”

Rogue moved automatically, stepping between Stryker and Logan, squaring off with the latter. Her face was totally blank, doll-like. There was a flickering green light at her throat and she wore no gloves. She extended her claws and came at him.

Logan swore heavily, trying to dodge around her when Styker bolted out the door, but Rogue moved fluidly, quickly, dodged his attempts to catch her and sliced right through his achilles tendons, sending him sprawling to the ground with a shout of pain.

He flung her away when she came at him again, and managed to get to his feet as his damaged tissue healed. “Rogue, fight the damned drug!” he shouted.

Rogue only tilted her head a little, and charged again.

Logan withdrew his claws and cursed heavily as he fended off her blows. She really was damned quick, and sent him stumbling back, trying desperately to think of a plan. His eyes were drawn to the lit x-ray display, and he began leading the wrathful, brainwashed Rogue toward it.

“Do ya remember what you told me about the drug, Darlin’?” he asked, his breath short from this little workout. “Because I’m totally claiming that this was your idea.” His back was almost against the wall when he seized her wrist and pulled, sinking her claws into the electrical wires behind the lit-up panels and quickly letting go.

Electricity flooded Rogue’s system, conducted by her bones quite impressively. After more than ten seconds, the breaker seemed to overload and burst, flinging Rogue back until she crashed into a computer terminal, and hit the ground, scattering pieces of computer around her as forks of lightning leapt from her body, the electricity rapidly dissipating.

Logan followed her immediately, tentatively laying a hand on her leather-clad forearm, and gripping her when he was not electrocuted. “Rogue?”

She gasped and jumped up, trying to scoot away, but her eyes were wide open, all traces of blue and green absent. After a moment, she recognized him, but this only seemed to momentarily increase her panic. “Oh, God! Tell me this isn’t a fucking hallucination!”

Logan’s brown furrowed as a new wave of anger washed over him. “They used that psycho on you?”

Rogue lifted a hand to the side of her head, breathing hard. “Yeah. I...” She took a deep breath through her nose, and her eyes fell shut for a moment, her body shaking with weakness and bone-deep relief. She met Logan’s gaze and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing both to reassure herself that he was solid and to emphasize her words as she said, “Thank you.”

Logan nodded and wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulling her to her feet as he stood up. Her hair was spectacular after the electrocution, and he smirked when she instinctively smoothed it down, even while her legs were still unsteady from the electricity. She did not tremble, but she jerked now and then, and her muscles were weakened. Logan noticed a red light on the collar at her throat. “What’s the thing around your neck? It’s blinkin’ red.”

Rogue touched it, confusion creasing her brow for a moment. Then it cleared. “It...shut off my skin, but I think that it just got kinda fried. It probably isn’t workin’ right.”

Logan nodded thoughtfully.

Rogue suddenly regained focus. “Where’s Stryker? Don’t tell me he got away!”

Logan only smirked. “You know me better than that.” He slid her arm across his shoulder and helped her walk out.



Johnny was leaning on the pipe now. There was a bit of blood on the end of it. At Johnny’s feet was William Stryker, hog-tied and chained, knocked unconscious. A small bloodstain interrupted the uniform salt-and-pepper coloration of the hair on the back of his head. The firebug had already frisked him, and pocketed a few interesting keepsakes: the adamantium knife would have to be his favorite.

He smiled brilliantly and ferociously when Logan and Rogue appeared. “Good to see you, Rogue. I’ve got a present for ya.” He kicked Stryker in the ribs, earning a groan from the unconscious man.

Rogue smirked a little. “Oh, Johnny; you know just what to get a girl.”

“Admittedly, I got some helpful advice on this one,” Johnny added, jerking his head in Logan’s direction.

Logan, still supporting Rogue, was eyeing Stryker with obvious hatred. “Emma contact you yet?” he growled.

“Yeap. Everything’s on schedule.”

Logan smirked. “Good.”



Stryker awoke to find himself bound, face-down on the floor. When he dared tilt his head up, what he saw left him horrified.

Rogue leaned against a post, her arms crossed over her chest, and she glared at him with pitiless eyes so dark that they were almost black. “Hello, Stryker. Yer lucky ya woke up, ya know. You mighta just been blown away whilst in a coma, but Logan wouldn’t let me touch ya. He said he’d learn enough about his past from all the files and things we’ve pulled from ya computers and storage rooms.” She clicked her tongue, tilting her head a little.

Stryker’s eyes moved around the room widely. He tried to speak, but his mouth had been duct-taped shut.

“Wonderin’ about that burning smell?” Rogue asked, a truly ferocious grin on her face, showing every tooth in her head. “That’s the work of our friend, Johnny Pyro. He’s the one who was kind enough to give ya that little love tap on the back of your head. Did I ever tell you just how satisfyin’ the smell of your blood is? Mmm.” She shook her head, still grinning.

Stryker shouted something almost intelligible through the tape.

“I’m as much a monster as ya made me, Stryker. It’s just that you’re damned unlucky that I survived and lived long enough to adapt to it, and know what to do with it and how to do it.” Her smile was gone, and Stryker could not tell if that was more or less terrifying than the smile alone had been.

Logan approached, unsheathing his claws. “He’s awake, then?”

“Yeah.” Rogue tilted her head a little. “Are ya sure, Sugar-”

Logan’s hand on her shoulder. “Not even his ghost should get outta here. Especially not if you’d have to live with it, Darlin’.”

Rogue took a deep breath, and let it out. “Alright. Got everything set up?”

“Yeah, and Johnny’s on his way out. He looks like he’s havin’ the time of his life.”

That lifted a bit of the dark from Rogue’s expression. “I’ll bet he is. He’s never had a fire that big to play with, before.” She leaned against him as he once more slung her arm across his shoulders to help her walk.

Stryker tried to shout as they slowly walked away. He could hear the creaking of pipes, the hissing of pressure within them, and the screaming of alarms as the heat from the levels below became more and more intense.

They did not even glance back at him.

Hank was the first to greet the pair when they reached the blackbird. He immediately began questioning their health and how on earth the fire had started, and informed them how little time they had left to get out.

Rogue extended a bit of claw and cut the clasp holding the collar around her neck. Retracting the claw, she handed the collar to Hank. “Here. Please see if you can improve this for me, eh, Hank?” She smiled tiredly.

“What on earth is it?”

“It shut off my skin.”

“Oh my...yes, I shall have to look into it, indeed. May I help you with your apparent inability to walk unassisted?”

“It’s just havin’ been electrocuted with all those drugs in my system. I’ll be alright by mornin’ or so. I just need time to detox, as it were.”

“Oh, dear. I’m sure you do! I’ll fetch you an IV with some of this serum I worked up...”

Rogue shook her head a little, then leaned it on Logan’s shoulder and again inhaled his scent, wishing she could drown in it. It was the only thing anchoring her to reality and making her absolutely sure that it was real.

Logan sat on one of the benches near the back of the plane, pulling Rogue down with him. She was not difficult to persuade, seeming highly unwilling to break contact with him. She still leaned on his shoulder even when she no longer had an arm around him for support. Logan could feel Emma’s curious eyes on them, where she watched from the cockpit, but he ignored her. “I was in the illusions, wasn’t I?”

“Mm,” Rogue said, in a tone that did not reveal much, but then she sighed. “Yeah. He could never get ya scent right. It shattered the whole illusion, every time he tried t’ use ya.” Her eyes fell shut when she felt him wrap an arm around her, his fingers stroking her hair.

“Think he’s roasted yet?” He sounded pleased.

“He deserves worse,” Rogue muttered under her breath. She cracked her knuckles.

“Yeah. But it’s still pretty satisfying.”

She smirked involuntarily, almost reluctantly. “Yeah.” One hand clutched a little at the leather of Logan’s uniform, at his sleeve. “I need sleep, but I still smell like that place,” she murmured, her voice just slightly weak, as he hadn’t heard from her before.

Logan nodded. “Yeah.”

“Can I...just stay here?” She tilted her face down a little. Her cheek rested just over his collarbone.

Logan fumbled around and finally found seat belts, buckling them both in. “Yeah. Now ya can.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “And thank you for bringing all these geeks to come get me.” She curled up comfortably against his side, already relaxing. She did not see Hank starting to approach with an IV, stopping as he reconsidered, and then turning away to leave them be.

Logan smirked a little, resting his chin on the top of her head. He could not find words for how relieved he was that she was okay, and that she wanted to be close to him. Something had just caught his eye, though. There was a second dog tag on the chain around her neck. He picked it up, holding it out just far enough from its resting place that he could read it.

Rogue’s eyelids lifted just slightly, to see what he was doing. “Yeah. I was surprised he bothered to listen, too.”

The tag said: ROGUE.

Logan gave a sound of agreement and put the tags back.

By the time the blackbird took off two minutes later, Rogue was asleep. Within fifteen more minutes, Stryker’s base had been blown to smithereens, and swallowed by Alkalai Lake.

Logan listened to Rogue’s breathing, and occasionally opened his eyes to watch the rest of the X-men at the front of the blackbird. They were all quiet: Storm and Jean at the helm, Scott and Hank sorting some of the non-digital files they had taken from Stryker, Kurt and Emma talking quietly on the other side of the row; and Johnny sitting apart from them, curled up in his seat and sleeping peacefully, only the occasional smirk disturbing the serenity of his expression.

Rogue slept more fitfully, the occasional flinch, shiver, or growl going through her, but Logan knew it could be worse. He could see her hands tense, her fingers flexing as if about to slice something open, but she never unsheathed her claws. He breathing would speed up, and her heartbeat quicken and get louder, but in the end, a few deep breaths––even in dreams she instinctively controlled her breathing after a certain point––seemed to calm her, and she would relax again.

Once returned to the mansion––now free from threat, surveillance, and soldiers (and with repairs in progress)––Logan had managed to carry her halfway to her room before she awoke.

She looked around in confusion, sniffing the air deeply. “Mansion?” she asked sleepily.

“Yeah.”

“You’re carrying me,” she observed, sounding a tad confused.

“You wanna walk?”

Rogue considered this. “Honestly? No.”

Logan smirked a little. “I figured.”

“I’m just...it’s weird. I’m not used to being touched, let alone this. Kinda nice, though.” She was coming down from her initial adrenaline high. Hank had warned that she might be a little––off, due to the lingering toxins in her system.

Logan thought ‘tipsy’ might be about the word for it. “Good thing, too. Not many other modes of transport are available.”

“Professor Wheels gets along well enough,” Rogue muttered.

Logan sniggered.

“Am I...drunk?” Rogue asked.

“Hank said the electricity would have had a funny effect on the drugs still in your system, and might make you a little odd.”

“I’m always a bit odd, but this...everything has a bit of a vapor trail now and then. And I get the feeling that I sound like a crazy person.”

“You do, but I won’t hold it against you.”

“Mm.” Rogue leaned her head on his shoulder again. “Ya’ve done a lot for me, today, Sugar,” she observed.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Damn. It was a very good question, but also a difficult one. Logan sighed. “I could ask you the same about why you drained me and took my place in that Hell, Rogue.”

She made a thoughtful noise, but did not look up at him.

Logan shook his head a little. “Because he took you, and I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of having caught any of us. And because I want you here, to help me keep these geeks safe; I can’t think of anyone I’d prefer to have my back in a fight, especially not now.”

One of her bare hands gripped his clothed shoulder. “Logan...”

“It was the same for you, I think.”

She nodded slightly. “Yeah. But I’m still surprised that I’m gettin’ carried up to my room. It’s like gettin’ the royal treatment.”

Logan considered this. “I knew you wouldn’t wake well if you woke up in the med lab.”

Rogue shuddered involuntarily.

“My thoughts exactly,” Logan murmured.

“Thank you.”

He gave a low answering rumble, which Rogue found quite comforting.

Logan set her down at the door to her room, and looked her over once more, making absolutely sure that she was really there. He was slightly surprised when she reached out and grabbed his arm when he turned to leave; even more so when she stepped close, and stood on her toes to brush her lips across his––just a fleeting, soft, and all-too-brief touch so that she wouldn’t drain him.

“Goodnight, Logan,” she said quietly, releasing him, and stepping back, putting a hand on her door.

“Goodnight, Rogue.”

Logan stared at her door for a few long moments, after she had gone into her room and shut it softly behind her. His eyes fell shut when he heard the faint sound of the zipper on the front of her uniform being pulled down. After a moment more, he made his way down the hall to his own room, thinking strange thoughts.
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