Behold, A Pale Horse…Revelations 6:8
There isn’t much traffic, and I’m grateful for small favors. It’s not quite eleven when I draw up by the gates and see the plaque: 1407 Greymalkin Lane. I roll down a window, feeling faintly ridiculous, and wait to be acknowledged by whoever is manning the security system. It takes an unreasonably long time, at least it seems that way to me, but eventually a tinny voice emanates from the black box attached to the gate. “Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. May I help you?”
I don’t recognize the voice, but damned if I would anyway through that system. “The name’s Logan. Xavier knows me.” There’s a pause, and then the gates slowly swing open.
I don’t bother to knock. The hallway is deserted when I enter, which seems strange; then in the rec room off to the left I see a bunch of kids in a somber knot, talking quietly. One girl is crying, another has her arm around her shoulders; that one raises her head as I approach and I see it’s the Asian girl from last night. Her eyes are red like she’s been crying as well, but when she sees me her face changes to an absolute mask of fury. She drops her arm from the other girl’s shoulders and runs straight at me.
“You fucking bastard!” I have to catch her hands to keep them away from my face; she kicks out at me and I have to dodge fast to keep her from landing a blow to my crotch. “Son of a bitch—I should blast you into next week—”
“What the hell is your problem?” I twist her around, trapping her arms against her body and holding her still. I don’t want to hurt her, but she’s fighting me like a wildcat. “Cut it out.” She bites my arm. “Christ!” Now I remember why I left. Everyone in this place is fuckin’ nuts.
“Jubilee, stop it.” The girl she’d been comforting when I came in is standing in front of us. “That won’t help.”
“It’s his fucking fault.” She gives one last vicious jab with her elbow and then unexpectedly just stops fighting me and clutches onto my arm instead. I’m startled, but I just hold onto her, or she’d collapse to the floor. “It’s my fault—I should have gone in last night, I should have known …” Her tiny body is heaving with sobs, and she can’t seem to decide whether to continue the assault or not. The other girl comes up to us and catches hold of her hand before she can hit me again.
“It wasn’t your fault, Jubes. You didn’t know. None of us knew.” She looks up at me. “Do you remember me? I’m Katherine Pryde—Kitty. I’m a friend of Rogue’s—I mean Marie’s.”
Rogue? What the hell is that? But I remember this girl too, vaguely, and I nod. The other students—or full-fledged X-Men by now, for all I know—are standing silently, just watching. I’m beginning to have a seriously bad feeling about this. “I remember. What the hell is going on?”
“It’s Marie.” Kitty hesitates. “She’s—Dr. Grey is—”
“What?” I need to know what the fuck is happening. Now.
The Asian girl detaches herself from my grip, shoves me away as she turns to face me. “She tried to kill herself. Last night. I went to her room this morning—to tell her I’d seen you—and I found her.” She’s giving me an accusing glare, and she looks ready to scratch my eyes out again.
For a second I can’t move, can’t speak. The words hang in the air: She tried to kill herself. Finally I manage to force a few words out. “Where is she?”
“She is downstairs. In the medical facility.” I turned blindly towards the new voice; Ororo Munroe stands there, surreal and beautiful as ever. Her silver-cast eyes are steady but sorrowful. “Jean is with her.”
“Is she all right?”
Ororo looks down and I feel my heart constrict in my chest in the second before she answers. “She’s alive. Jean is doing what she can.”
She’s alive. The words aren’t spoken with any degree of optimism, but they’re something to hang onto, a lifeline, however thin. “I need to see her.”
Ororo nods. “Come with me.” Kitty puts a hand on my arm as I start to follow her.
“Jubilee didn’t mean what she said,” she tells me quietly. “It wasn’t your fault, we know that. We’re just upset.” I want to shake her off, but she’s just a kind, sweet little thing, and she’s trying to be nice. “Tell her we love her, all right?”
“Yeah.” I touch her hand briefly and then go with Ororo. She knows how to be quiet, I’ll give her that much. She takes me in silence through the hallways, into the elevator and down several levels, and I know where we’re headed. As we near the lab, my senses are assaulted by a thousand unpleasant stimuli—chemical smells, fluorescent lights, monitors whining at high-pitched tones only I can hear. Behind it all I pick up her scent. I brush past Ororo and into the lab.
Jean is leaning over a table, listening to her patient’s heart, and as she turns, I see that it’s Marie lying there. Tubes and wires are running into her everywhere; her mouth and chin are ringed with black. Jean looks exhausted; her hair’s a mess and there are dark circles under her eyes, which open with surprise when she sees me. I register all this even as I’m moving across the room, and she lowers her stethoscope to her neck and comes forward to meet me, taking hold of my arms.
“Logan—calm down.”
“Like hell. Is she gonna be all right? What the fuck happened?”
“We don’t know exactly.” Jean’s voice is composed, collected; this is the doctor speaking, the one who knows how to talk to friends and family. “She’d been planning it, obviously. She had pills saved up and she knew exactly what she was doing—she took an overdose of Tylenol and Valium. Jubilee found her—”
“Is she going to be all right?” I space the words out clearly. I don’t need the goddamn details.
Jan falters for the first time. “I don’t know. She wasn’t breathing when I got there, and I had to intubate her. Earlier she started fighting the vent, so I took her off it. She’s breathing on her own.”
“So that’s good.”
“Yes. It shows she has some brain function intact. But there are other signs…” Jean’s hand tightens on my arm. “There may be brain damage. I don’t know how long she wasn’t breathing before we got to her.”
Okay. Then I know what I have to do. “Let go of me.” I don’t think I’ve ever been more deadly serious.
“Logan, right now there’s nothing we can do except wait.”
“Let the fuck go of me. Now.” Startled, Jean steps back and I stalk past her.
The girl on the table looks heartbreakingly fragile. Her eyes are closed; a tube runs into her nose and the charcoal smudges on her face make her look like a child who’s been playing in the mud. I slip out of my jacket and drop it onto a neighboring table as Jean comes up beside me, holding out a pair of latex gloves. I push them away. “Don’t need them.”
Jean speaks in that reasoned doctor’s tone again. “You can’t touch her without—”
I turn and grab her wrist. I’m planning to make myself real goddamn clear here. “You listen to me, Red. I’m gonna touch her. It worked before and it’s the only thing that might be going to help her now. Your job is going to be to pull me off her if I can’t let go, you got it?” Looking slightly shocked, Jean nods. I look past her, see Ororo still standing near the doorway. “You too. I’m pretty heavy.” I let go of Jean and turn back to look down at Marie. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I remember what Xavier told me before, and I don’t want there to be anger or fear in the forefront of my mind, not this time. Jean puts a hand on my arm.
“She’s stable right now, Logan. You should wait—you look awful.”
“You look pretty bad yourself,” I snarl. “Either get ready to help or get out of the way.” I don’t need a fucking medical degree to know Marie’s lying there dying right in front of me. I don’t think I realized until this minute how important it was to me that she was okay, that she was safe. She’s not, I can do something about it, and I’m going to. I have to.
“We don’t even know if your mutation works for something like this. Or if—”
“You just finished telling me there’s nothing else you can do. So it fucking well can’t hurt to try.”
Jean gives up, or gives in, anyway. “All right. Just—be careful.” Her hand strokes my forearm gently.
Be careful. Yeah. She’s right. I reach a hand toward Marie, steadying my thoughts. New Orleans. A warm mountain field. Your face. I brush a tangled lock of hair away from her pale forehead. I’m sorry, darlin’. I should’ve been there for you. Then I lay the palm of my hand against her cheek, memorizing the feel of it as I wait for the pull.
Nothing happens. Seconds tick by, one after the other. No. Baby. Take it. I reach for her hand with my other, hold onto it tightly. Maybe it doesn’t happen as quickly as I thought.
Still nothing. I look around at the two women, hoping against hope that I’ll see an explanation there, some answer, some chance. But Jean looks stricken and as I turn to Ororo, I see twin tears spill from those mirror-bright eyes and run down the perfect oval of her face.
I turn away from them and lift Marie up in my arms, ignoring the wires and tubes that pull away. They don’t matter any more, not if she’s too far gone for this to work—I can see that in Jean’s eyes. I smooth her hair back, gently pull the oxygen feed away from her nose, and I sit down, cradling her against my body. I don’t even care that Jean and Ororo are still standing there watching this; I press my lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry.”
Christ, she’s warm. She can’t be gone. She can’t be. I should never have left her—alone—
It isn’t until I feel Jean’s hands on my shoulders, hear Ororo cry out, that I realize what’s happening. Then darkness is closing in around me, like falling down a black tunnel that doesn’t end. I think for an instant that Marie’s lashes flutter and renewed hope bursts over me even as my vision starts to grey out. But I hang onto consciousness desperately, trying to stay with her, trying to give her more, because it needs to be enough. Then Jean is tearing my hands away from her and now I really am falling. My head hits something hard.
It hurts. And somehow I can’t seem to catch my breath. I know Jeannie’s yelling to Ororo about something or other, and I try to move but I can’t. Things seem to be slowing down.
Something jolts my whole body. And that’s all I remember. The world just goes black.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
What Logan finds when he arrives at the School.