Disclaimer: This fan-fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Beta-ed by the awesome Wanda W. to whom I owe a chocolate covered Logan at the very least. You might want to re-read the chapter about Madripoor before you read this (though it should stand alone if you don’t want to) and Hobbits away, ho!

STILL-LIFE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

For a beat everything was silent. Still. Aching.

And then-

Then suddenly the world screamed back into focus in full, mind-blowing Technicolor. That brief beat of numbness a blessing Logan should have known wouldn’t last.

He felt the pain Rogue was inflicting on him travelling beneath his skin then, hissing along his bones and damn near cracking ‘em. Didn’t like it none. Just wasn’t sure what to do about it, with so many kids around- So many targets- and a notable absence of cooperation from his Marie. All about him the Summers clones were attacking, using their optic beams to blast the room to ribbons, and he knew it was only a matter of time before one of those mini-Cyclopes was injured more’n Essex could repair. The thought wasn’t exactly tickling him neither; after all they were only kids. But even if the X-Men didn’t wanna hurt them, they were too devoted to Essex to disobey him- And given the team’s insistence on getting out of there with Rogue it was a recipe fer trouble, there was no use saying it weren’t. This was Madripoor all over again and Logan knew it, knew it would end with a pile of children’s bodies and blood all over his hands. With a feral Wolverine walking away from it, and maybe, just maybe, another dead girl- Except this time it wouldn’t be a little snow-made angel.

This time it would be his Marie-

The familiar beast within him growling from inside its rusty, old cage then. Showed its teeth like a good Wolverine and moved to centerfield. Mine, it whispered, Marie’s mine. She said so. Essex wants her he’ll have t’go through me. We both know I’ll slaughter the entire compound to get her out of here, bub. So grow a fucking pair and save our girl-

The indecision lifted then. Sharp, hunter-eyed clarity taking its place. Casualties were inevitable, the quicker he got her out the lower they would be. Logan pulled away from her touch then, ignoring her sharp intake of breath- Jesus, it felt better without her charging his bones- Every muscle tensing. Senses suddenly on high alert. Wall, burnt and probably fragile, behind him. Smell of moss and lime-scale right behind it indicating that they were near the water-source (about three clicks away from it) which ran beneath the base. Approximately twenty targets on their way to intercept him, the youngest about nine, the eldest closer to sixteen. And, by the smell of her, stinking of the sweet aroma of Remy LeBeau’s suffering and blood. Estimated distance from the surface, approximately 20 metres. Estimated time needed to get Marie out of here, precisely ten minutes and a lot of kicking ass. They would break through the wall behind them, Kitty on point, Kurt running distraction. Mow through anything or anyone that got in their path, setting off their transmitters as they went. Soon as one of those babies went off Storm’d come in like a hurricane, giving just enough cover to get them back to the Blackbird and airborne. If Logan had been solo there would have been vengeance against Essex for his actions, but at the moment all he cared about was Marie and getting her out of there. The Wolverine within growled a little, didn’t like the lack of pay-back but also knew Rogue was the priority, so he’d keep his peace. For now.

Couldn’t ask more of a monster than that.

By now Kurt and Kitty were trying desperately to fight their way out of the room without killing their attackers, too freaked by the Cyclops’s clones’ ages- And familiar faces- to use their usual force. The identical boys were taking advantage of the adults’ obvious hesitation, ignoring any minor injuries they suffered while forcing Kitty to keep phasing in order to avoid Kurt’s teleportation, and Kurt to hesitate lest he bamf out of the way and leave Pryde to take the brunt of a blast meant for him. Needless to say, it was a more tactically advanced attack than might be expected from four ten years olds, and the realisation wasn’t exactly enhancing Logan’s Zen any. Nor was it making this jail-break any easier to pull. Marie was screaming bloody murder even as she hurt him, demanding she be brought back to Essex- or as she called the bastard, “Father,”- and snarling vindictively that Logan didn’t get to touch her. That he was a filthy animal unworthy to lay his fingers against her or even look her in the eye-

“Seriously, sensei,” Kitty snarled behind him then, “Either get a room already, or get your ass into gear!” And as if to make her point she phased to avoid another of the clones’ optic blasts. Dropped to her knees and then disappeared for a second as Kurt teleported her, depositing her at the tattered remains of the blast doors to give her a moment’s respite.

“We have to fall back, Logan,” Kurt muttered. “Ve’re going to hurt zem if ve keep dis up.” The elf was teleporting through the room almost faster than Logan’s eyes could follow him, spinning and pirouetting through thin air as if he’s been gifted with wings instead of a tail. It was impressive, his speed just barely keeping him ahead of their attackers, but it was obvious they couldn’t keep this up long-term. There was only so much Nightcrawler could do before his mutation blacked out, and then he’d be a sitting target- A couple of corridors away Logan heard boots stomping, barrelling towards them even as Marie’s power hissed through his bones. It was the problem with attacking a telepath’s compound: They always knew as soon as a fox made its way inside their chicken-coop. And they always over-reacted to the fox’s presence too. This situation had “blood-bath,” written all over it, and once again he felt his mind being drawn back to Madripoor. He didn’t wanna think on what Essex would do to Kurt or Kitty, if given the opportunity to experiment. But to let loose what he was capable of, to do what he knew needed to be done to children- Would Marie ever forgive him once she realised what he’d done to save her?

He pushed the thought away. Right now he was the best of the best at what he did, and that was what they needed- The rest of it could wait until Marie was free.

He called for Kurt then, gesturing for him to take Marie and the elf came immediately. “Come here, dear one,” Wagner crooned from behind- then beside-then behind them again, “Let me take you-”

“You ain’t laying those filthy devil’s paws on me,” Marie growled viciously. “Y’all are gonna give me back t’Father-”

“Can I shoot her?” Kitty muttered. And then, at Logan’s glower, “With a tranquilizer, I swear I meant with a tranquilizer-”

Nice little Jewish girl, my ass. “Wouldn’t be healthy, pum’kin,” Wolverine rumbled. “Not with hows I feel about her. Now haul yourself, we’re moving out.”

Pryde rolled her eyes. “Finally.” And despite Marie’s screams of protest the three headed for that wall behind him, the one he knew was weak. Kitty musta been way ahead of him because as soon as she saw the scorch marks she grinned tightly and headed towards it, her body disappearing neatly through even as Logan turned his shoulder to it. Doing his best to shield Rogue’s body he tore through metal and wood with his claws. The impact shuddered through him and Marie took the opportunity to make a break for it, biting at his hand where he held her and forcing him to yank her back to him harder than he intended. Those newly-black-on-red eyes going wide with fright. “Give her to me,” Kurt muttered, reaching for Marie despite her protests, “I can get her through ze wall and then you can follow behind-”

“You sure you can hold her fer that long, elf?” Logan muttered.

“Three bamfs with me and we’ll be lucky if she doesn’t throw up.”

“If you say so-”

“I do say so, Hairy, now let me vork-”

And that was when the wall exploded beside them with a shuddering, ear-splitting BANG!

Logan spun, instinctively crouching over Marie to take the force of the blast, tucking his head against hers and tightening his hold. Kurt swung upwards, darting out of the blast’s way and hauling himself across the ceiling pipes using only his hands and tail. Teleporting the final distance to meet the source of the blast. Grey smoke billowed out through the room, illuminated only by a single, glowing playing card- the Jack of Hearts- and a pair of red-on-black eyes. Which were also glowing.

As was the flame-thrower the newcomer held in his other hand.

That damn coat swaying in the breeze from the explosion was what gave it away for Logan. Trust LeBeau to still look windswept and interesting even as he was breaking through a wall. “Looks like you need a little help, here, homme,” Gambit muttered smugly. He looked like Hell, (which tickled Logan no end,) but he still managed to sound like a Goddamn pain in the ass. “You need some help with mah girl there?”

Logan and Marie both said it at the same time, though for vastly different reasons. “Fuck you,” they chimed in unison.

“You’re always welcome to, petite,” LeBeau muttered to Marie, a smirk twisting his features. “But you-” he gestured to Logan, “You would have t’buy Remy a drink first, non? And den, Ah’m sure we work something out-”

“Can ve talk about dis later?” Kurt called from the ceiling. “Ve’ve got company-”

“Hey Kurt, homme,” Remy called, “How you doin’?”

Wagner narrowed his glowing yellow eyes, teleporting beside the mutant for a second. Swinging a hard left hook and knocking it soundly into his jaw before bamfing away again before LeBeau could retaliate. “Zat vas for Marie,” he muttered.

“Hey, you did learn something bein’ married t’Storm,” Remy retorted, impressed.

Kitty reappeared behind the hole Logan had torn in the wall then. Her face now bleeding from a nasty cut above her eye. “They have this way covered, sensei,” she said tightly, keeping as much of her body phased as possible. That was never a good sign, in Logan’s experience. “Any other ideas?”

“Ah know a way,” Remy drawled, eye mock-innocent. “Ah could show you-”

“Now isn’t that fucking convenient,” Logan growled.

“Ah practically grew up here, homme,” Remy muttered, eyes darkening. He glanced pointedly at Marie as he said it, practically daring Logan to correct him. “Been lots o’ places else, but dis be where mah home is.” And his smile grew wider. More cocky. “Or you could stay an’ wait for Daddy Dearest t’take back de petite.”

Well, shit.

It looked like a set-up, smelt like a set-up and walked like a set-up: Logan seriously doubted it could possibly be anything else. He also knew better than to trust the Cajun, no matter what the sonofabitch said. But they had to get out of here now and without a map or their thermal imager they could be walking around in circles for hours. The quicker the extraction was, the less likely casualties became. And the quicker they could get Marie to Braddock, and set about setting her to rights. Logan snarled, growling viciously and then flashing Remy his claws, up close and personal. He’d never been so openly hostile with the man, but then he’d always previously thought that the bastard truly loved Marie. He didn’t know how he’d been fooled. LeBeau cocked an eyebrow but didn’t back up, merely watched him. And then chucked his thumb towards the doorway, where by now they could hear the sounds of reinforcements pouring in. “It’s your funeral, homme,” he muttered.

No, Logan thought. It’d be hers.

“Fine,” he snarled, instinctively pulling Marie closer. “Lead the way-” He waited until Remy reluctantly turned his back and then slashed at his back, the claw-marks just deep enough to hurt like Hell but not deep enough to need stitches. LeBeau turned back to him, one eyebrow cocked again. Though not looking scared none.

“My fist slipped,” Logan growled. And then they were off.