“Why?” she asked softly as soon as she knew the guard who delivered their dinner was too far to hear. She looked down at the plate in front of her. Real meat lay on her plate, along with fresh vegetables and rice. The metal cup that had been pushed through the bars was filled with clear, cool, clean water. One sip told her it was bottled. Nothing like that thick, brown shit they had been serving up until recently. Something was up, something big. She just needed to figure out what.
“Why what?” Victor asked as he dug into his own plate. He was served a meal as nicely prepared as her own. No gruel. No bland broth. No crusts of bread. For the last month, since the doctor had decided to let her stay in this cell, they had been served much the same way. Breakfast usually consisted of a wide variety of things from cereal to fresh fruit to eggs and sausage, even. Lunch was usually fish of some sort. At times, there were even servings of fruits and yogurt between meals, and always a nice dinner much like what they were eating now. Most of the time, she was given clean water, but she was also brought at least one glass of milk and some type of juice daily.
At first, both were apprehensive of the food, wondering if it contained any foreign substances. After the first three days, she and Victor had agreed and said to hell with it. If the men in power were trying to kill them, well, anything beat living out the rest of their days in this hell hole. Still, Rogue found herself wondering if the other mutants being held here were given the same treatment. Judging by the very audible gasps and moans whenever the smell of their food permeated the environment, she very much doubted it.
“Why haven’t you killed me? Or at least hurt me by now?”
She was serious with the questions she had asked Victor over the time they spent together. He hadn’t touched her, not once. He hadn’t even raised his voice at her. She had vowed that she wouldn’t ask him, would avoid anything that might remind him that he could very easily and happily snap her neck. But the suspense was getting to be too much for her to handle, she needed to know.
He sighed, quietly dropping his spoon to his plate. He had known this was going come up, he’d just figured that she would have asked well before now.
“I don’t know, Frail,” he replied, his gaze slowly drifting from his plate to her face. He sat back on the hard slab of concrete, letting his back rest against the wall. She was sitting on the floor on the other side of the cell, facing him. Both still wore very little, but what they were given was clean, even if their bodies were not. “At first - I’ve been stuck in this cell for about three years now. You were the first person I saw who wasn’t in a uniform and wielding a taser… Guess I figured it would be nice to have some company.”
“And now?” she asked softly, relaxing a bit more.
“Now?” He shrugged his shoulders. The small movement caught her off guard; it showed a vulnerability she had never even suspected he could feel. “You’ve kind of grown on me. I like having you around, someone to talk to. And you’re about as fucked up in the head as I am.”
She smiled at that, but it was bitter, full of sadness and pain. It reminded him of a question he had been putting off, something that he had been curious about since the beginning.
“Why haven’t you dealt with what happened?” He asked quickly, before his brain could tell him to leave it alone.
“What? You mean the kidnapping?” she asked, her gaze falling back to her food. She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what he was asking about. Wondering why she had opened her big, fat mouth, she began to push the rice around her plate.
“The rapes, Frail. It’s been a month. Why haven’t you dealt with it?” he asked quietly, not backing down this time. It wasn’t healthy to leave these things to fester. They had a way of building up and exploding all over you sooner or later. “You won’t even acknowledge what happened to you. Why?”
She refused to look at him, partly because she knew he was right. She couldn’t keep from thinking about it all the time. Truth be told, it was always at the forefront of her mind, but she also didn’t want him to see the tears that were forming in her eyes. She was stronger than this. She had to prove that she was. If she couldn’t deal with this on her own, then what could she deal with?
“Because I’m fine, Victor. It happened. There is no point in dwelling on it.” She stuffed a spoonful of food into her mouth again, hoping that he would take the hint and drop the subject.
She should have known better. Victor and Logan had many more things in common than either would ever admit to and one of them was the inability to let things go. “You need to deal with this, Frail. It’s going to eat you alive.”
Rogue felt her cheeks grow red with anger as she lifted her gaze back to the man who had no right to try to counsel her. He had saved her life, true enough, but this was also the man who had given her to Magneto. “What the hell do you care? Tell me something, Sabretooth; how many women have you destroyed over the years?”
He flinched at her words, but knew he deserved it. He had done some pretty horrendous things in his past, but he wasn’t going to apologize. Not to the girl who was alive and protected only because of him. “We’re not talking about me right now, Frail. I’ve dealt with my past. When are you going to grow up and deal with yours?”
She tried to hold in the tears, but it was too much for her. Once they spilled over, she found it impossible to keep her emotions at bay any longer. Her shoulders collapsed as she lost control and began to weep uncontrollably.
“Why me, Victor? Why?” she yelled as she picked up the plate of food and threw it across the room. It hit the wall only inches from his head and he knew this was what he had been waiting for. This was what she should have done long ago.
He moved from his bench, crossing the room in three swift steps. He reached for her, but she screamed.
“Don’t fucking touch me now, Victor. Don’t you fucking touch me,” she shrieked as he reached for her. He didn’t heed her warning, only grabbed her and gathered her close to his body. He held her as she screamed and cursed everyone from the guards that had done this to her to God himself. He held her as she lost her words and just wept uncontrollably. Finally, when she had no more tears, he held her still.
He had spent the last three years in this very cell with no one to talk to but himself. In all that time, he found that there was nothing to do but dwell on his past. He would never apologize for the pain he had caused just as he would never feel any guilt. But he felt himself soften for this girl as he held her until she stopped shaking. This was different.
He cared for this girl. She didn’t deserve any of this shit. He had to get her out, fast. Before the damn scientists started whatever little experiments they were preparing her for.
He watched her carefully as she slept. She had cried well into lights out, finally dozing off with streaks of tears and dirt along her cheeks. She stayed in his arms, propped against him on the cold, hard floor, her hands tangled in his hospital gown, as if she was holding on for dear life… or her sanity.
He tightened his hold on her as she squirmed in her sleep. Maybe a nightmare, maybe something better; there was no way of knowing. He didn’t know what to do about any of this. He was a cold-blooded killer, for crying out loud. And here he sat, cuddling the protégé of his greatest enemy. What the hell?
The frail wasn’t his responsibility. She had no claim over him and he had no use for her. He would say she wasn’t his type, but that would be a lie. There was only one prerequisite for his type: breathing. But there was no attraction, no pull. Nothing. Then why the hell was he still being nice to her?
He knew the answer, though. When those assholes had thrown her in here with him, she hadn’t reacted in any way that he could have expected. After realizing who he was, she should have been clawing at the damn door to get out. Screaming and promising everything that she could think of to go back to her cell. But, instead, she stayed. She had shown the kind of balls and brass he hadn’t seen in too long. She even got sarcastic with him. And, to top it all off, she asked him for help. A promise.
She had treated him like a real human being. Shown him respect and been honest with him. No one had done that in years. Even when he was working for Magneto, he was still just an animal. Victor couldn’t help but wonder if this was why the runt seemed to care so much for her.
He drifted off to sleep, the frail still in his arms, peaceful now. She was still vulnerable, still sleeping, and most importantly, still trusting. He had an idea of how to get them out of there, but he would need that trust to pull off what he had planned. If she didn’t agree, he doubted they would get out of here alive.
“Have there been any developments?” Saunders asked as Wayland stepped into his office just after sunrise.
Wayland stood stiffly at attention, careful not to break protocol. The last time the good doctor had spoken to him, Saunders had categorically informed him that if he stepped out of line again, his position and those of his men would be terminated. There was no question what that meant. There was only one way out of this line of work. Can’t have any disgruntled employees going to the media.
“Some, sir. When I checked on them last night, the male was holding the female. I believe it is only a matter of time, now.” Wayland didn’t look at the man while he spoke, instead keeping his gaze fixated on a spot over Dr. Saunders’ head. He was keeping things completely professional.
“Excellent. Let me know if you notice any more changes. With any luck, they will be submersed in the process of mating by the time her contraception runs its course. You’re dismissed. Go home and enjoy your children.” Saunders waved the man off, waiting until the door was firmly closed again before looking over the memo lying on his desk. The girl was powerful, indeed.
They had known from the beginning about the effects of her mutation, especially when used against another mutant. After excessive testing on blood samples taken from the female, it was concluded that each time she ‘borrowed’ another mutation, it became partially encoded into her DNA. The longer the contact, the larger the imprint, meaning that if she held on to someone long enough to cause a deep coma or even kill them, it was very possible that she would be able to develop and use the mutation. It was also likely that she would be able to eventually use a mutation if she touched the same mutant often enough.
There was one imprint that was vastly larger than any other. After comparing it to the other samples of the x-gene that had been acquired over the last five years of operation, there was no absolute match, but one was close: Victor Creed and his healing ability. Who ever the mutant known only as Rogue had touched, it wouldn’t take much more to push that over. Saunders couldn’t help but wonder if using Victor as a substitute would work.
It was a month before he got any leads.
He was in Philadelphia, at a small clinic right in the middle of the roughest part of the city before he found anyone who remembered her. And, of course, it was an overly flirty nurse who looked as if she did her makeup with help from a paint gun. She eyed him carefully when he had only given her one name, but that didn’t stop her from inviting him to her place after her shift, scribbling the address on a prescription slip. It was only after he saw the little note she tacked on that he knew there was more to this meeting than wanting a quickie. ‘Make sure you’re not followed.’
That was when he was positive she had information.
He arrived right on time, but only after driving around town the entire time, without stopped once. He had become overly paranoid that someone was watching him, but he made damn sure they wouldn’t be able to follow. Knocking on the door of the small apartment, he was surprised when she answered right away. Only, she didn’t look like Nurse Betty anymore.
Dressed in an expensive looking pantsuit and wearing not even a tenth of the makeup she had on before, he knew that she wasn’t what he thought.
“Agent Savannah Danvers, FBI,” she said quickly, offering him a firm handshake. “Come on in, Mr. Logan. I think we have a lot to discuss.”
He followed her in without uttering a word as he looked around the dingy apartment. There was a couch and a TV, a few books. He suspected the bedroom probably had a bed that was hardly slept in and a very minimal amount of clothes. But the walls and the table in the kitchen were another story altogether. Every piece of wall was covered with black and white photos of people. A few faces he recognized from the clinic this very morning. He suspected that the others were doctors or nurses, also. But one section soon captured his attention more than any other. It was marked with a single heading at the very top, perfectly lined up with the ceiling: WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?
And there, smack in the centre, was Rogue.
“I recognized you from the news when Erik Lehnsherr and his team made that attack on Alcatraz. That’s the only reason I am willing to bring you into this.” She was watching him with hard eyes and no smile, clarifying where they stood with each other from the get-go. “It’s against protocol, but I believe you can help us.”
“What do you know?” he asked simply.
“She met a doctor by the name of Saunders. He promised her a cure, but that they would have to go to his main facility,” she said quickly, efficient. “She went willingly enough. She was one of the few that disappeared after leaving here.”
“I take it they didn’t take everyone?” Logan asked curiously, studying the pictures of the missing mutants. His gaze kept wandering back to the only face he recognized.
“Only those who could be valuable. No psychics or teleporters. Too much of a hassle and not needed. The more powerful they are, the greater chance they’re still alive.”
He turned to her then, his curiosity piqued. “What do you want from me?”
She turned his attention to the opposite wall. He hadn’t seen it when he first walked into the kitchen, but a giant map hung just by the door. “I’ve been able to track them to different areas across the States. Not all, but some. I’ve asked for more manpower on this, but it’s not easy finding an ear sympathetic to the mutant cause, and I’m still too deep undercover. I was lucky enough just to get in. I can’t blow it now, not until I have every one of those places pinned, but I can give you information on one of them. I believe the girl you’re looking for is being held here.”
“What’s in it for you?” he asked warily, as his eyebrow went up.
She paused for a second, gazing back at the map. She was collecting her thoughts, and he gave her the time she needed. It was a full minute before she spoke again. “My little sister was a surprise for our folks, and a blessing. I was their only child and just graduating high school when she was born. She was a bright girl growing up and could do no wrong in their eyes. She was the favorite, even mine. And when she developed her abilities, well, they accepted it without a second thought. She was a pilot in the Air Force when it was discovered that she was a mutant. She went to take the cure and never came back. I’ve pinpointed her to the same location. I’ve been trying to get there myself, but the higher ups are refusing to investigate. None of these people are underage and with relations between humans and mutants being what they are, no one wants to give the manpower. My hands are tied.”
Logan got it now. She needed him for his skills as much as he needed her for her information. As a government official, she couldn’t make a move without someone breathing down her neck. But he had no ties, and he knew how to disappear and keep low.
“What’s her name?” he asked quietly. It was his way of agreeing, and there was no denying the hope that sprang into her eyes. “And do we know any of the others who are being held captive?”
“Carol,” Agent Danvers replied quickly, hurrying to fumble through the papers on the desk to give him the information he would need. “She’s very gifted. Super strength, flight, invulnerability. I still don’t know what they are using to nullify her mutations, but she has military training and once you infiltrate and release her, she’ll be a great asset. Besides her and your girl, we don’t know much else about the others. There should be a total of fifteen, ten of whom have homes to return to, including Carol and Rogue.”
She handed him a full stack of papers, on top of which was a rough sketch of the layout of the building. It wasn’t much, but it would help. And at least he now knew where to go. “I had a woman on the inside, one of their cooks. She disappeared three days after they took Rogue. We hadn’t been in touch for very long, so I wasn’t able to get much. They keep the place tight. Do you have anyone who can back you up on this? Anyone you can trust?”
Logan thought about that for a moment. Yeah, he had people who would help, but trust was another issue. “Yeah, the mutants in there. I’ll get in, and they’ll help me get them out. From what you’ve told me, I think this might be the place they keep the most dangerous.”
“Good luck, Logan. Please bring Carol back to me. My private number is in there. Call me if you need anything.”
Logan left quickly, rushing to get on the road. Even without stopping to rest, it would still take him a while to get there if he drove. He’d have to return to the mansion, borrow something a little faster. Thank God Chuck had made him take those flying lessons after he returned from Alkali Lake the first time.
Considering how much he hated the government for what he had been through and his suspicions of their involvement in Rogue’s disappearance, he found it pretty ironic that it was a member of the FBI who got him on track. A fucking federal agent, for crying out loud.
“Can you run that by me again?” Rogue asked slowly. She sipped at her juice, keeping a wary eye on the man in front of her. He was a psychopath, yes, but this was just completely beyond comprehension.
“We wait until the grave shift comes on in another hour or so. They don’t have as many guards and only one physician in case of emergencies,” Victor replied, his voice agitated. He should have known she wouldn’t go for it, but they didn’t have many options. “We’ll wait until they come in to do their rounds. It’s going to have to look real, so it’s going to be a little deep, but it won’t be life threatening or anything like that. And as soon as they see it, they’re going to turn off these damn collars so that you can use my abilities. As soon as they flip the switch, we attack. I know you can fight, but stay close to me. If you have to, give me a little tickle, but not too much. Everything’s going to be crazy, so I’m going to need my strength.”
“Will this even work?” she asked skeptically, her voice high with frustration. “I mean, how do we know they will even turn off the collars? They do have that doctor.”
Victor couldn’t help but chuckle. That was the beauty of it all. “They aren’t going to let you die for anything. And the doc they have tonight is a drunken buffoon. The first year I was here, I kept cutting myself open, trying to get out. The doctor kept fucking it up, so they would just turn off the collar long enough for me to heal, but they didn’t have to come into the cell to do it. You’ll be playing ‘possum though, and with the tantrum I’ll be throwing, they’ll have to come in and get you to touch me before getting out. If they tase me, it will wear off as soon as the collars are off.”
“And the others?”
He sighed. He hadn’t considered the others. He didn’t know how many there were, but he also knew that she wouldn’t be able to leave them behind. “We’ll get them, too.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks again, biohelixx!!!! You rock for beta-ing this chapter so quickly!
Chapter End Notes:
working on the next chapter now, hopefully it should be up really soon! Thanks for all of the feedback!