“Why did you have to use those weapons on him?!”
Dr. Matheson had talked about strong sedative, he had developed the said sedative, but at no point had he mentioned fire arms, and least of all machine guns to *pacify* their test subject! The revelation made to him by his subordinate angered him so much that he felt he could kill the young recruit standing in front of him.
“We only followed the orders, doctor…” Replied the young man in a clipped voice.
“Orders? What orders? Not mine! I’ve never said that you could rip him to pieces!! I said *pacify*, damn it, not nearly kill him!”
“We only followed the orders.”
“Whose orders?!” Demanded the weary doctor, whose patience was running thin.
“Mine.” Said a calm voice from behind him. Steve Matheson turned around and his hateful glare met two steely gray eyes staring back at him with open amusement. The man was tall and had a kind of aura that spoke about power and lust for it. His whole demeanor inspired instantaneous awe and respect, leaving the two other men standing in his presence look like two lost fawns caught in headlights.
“Who are you?” He asked, suddenly feeling that his position wasn’t as assured as he thought.
“Colonel Montgomery, Safety Department. Is there something wrong?”
“What’s going on here?” Came the almost inaudible question from the shorter man, his frame barely shaking under his black coat and uniform.
“The boy is right. If you have something wrong with that *doctor*, you can always address your complaints to me.”
The raging feelings growing inside Steve Matheson gave way to outright panic at the other man’s words. Did they suspect something? No… It’s impossible, he thought.
Feigning a courage he didn’t feel at all, the young scientist turned his body to the gray haired man: “Nobody told me about this change. I will make sure to report to my superiors.”
“You can save your breath, then.” Said Montgomery. “I *am* your new superior.”
Readjusting his coat to try and hide his growing panic, Dr. Matheson thought that things were definitely playing against him. All his efforts, all the risks he took might soon be worthless if his suspicions were founded, if they truly had him in their specter and watched more closely to his *work* than he would have wished. Going back to his study, he hurried through the files he had saved on a highly secured hard disk. Dates, names, procedures and detailed chemical formulas were stocked up in his computer. He knew it was stupid, but where else could he stock them? Yet, it wasn’t enough to stop the whole operation, not by a long shot. He needed time to gather more information, more names; all those men and women who thought themselves above laws and morals. He had to stop them from continuing their atrocities, from achieving their goal: create the perfect Weapon. Hands holding the edge of his desk in a death grip, the young man tried to think of a solution to at least buy a little more time. It still could work, he still could save them all before the Program was consumed.
“Please, just a little more time…” He muttered in the silence of the brightly lit room.
**************************
He had finally sunk back into a dreamless sleep. Logan had been restless for hours, smoothing his hands over her body and constantly sniffing the air in quest of inexistent intruders. He was lying on his side now, his head buried between her breast and hands resting loosely about her waist and back. They really were a mess, and no need to mention the smell of sweat, fear and blood as well as other body fluids that tainted the atmosphere. Rogue would have given an arm and a leg for nice warm bath. Her skin felt clammy and soiled and the dried blood on her face and arms felt like an uncomfortable second skin. Letting herself drift off to dreams of huge bath tubs and pleasantly scented shampoos, she lazily caressed her cellmate’s hair, his forehead. That she was able to do so without hurting him was more than she had ever wished for, even in those god-awful circumstances. Rogue had always longed for Logan’s touch when they were at the mansion; imagining what his hands on the naked skin of her face would feel like, how would his lips feel on hers. They said that she had a crush on him, a kind of hero worship that would never go deeper than childish admiration. But they had been wrong about her. How could you hold on to foolish reveries about someone when you had experienced their darkness with all you had in you, when they had lain bare to the scrutiny of your soul; when this darkness had become a part of you? They thought her to be an eternal woman-child, the perfect mix of innocence and tragedy; a symbol they could cling on to. How could they have missed the very mechanism of her mutation? Maybe one of them knew after all… Maybe the Professor knew, and that was why he had seemed to understand her on that fateful day. But where did she lay now? Rogue knew that regrets were useless, but she couldn’t stop herself… If only she hadn’t left like she did! Maybe now she would be at the mansion again, with Logan, and they would be safe, they would be safe.
Tears suddenly ran down her hollow face, washing away some of the blood that had dried on her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry Logan… I’m sorry…” Timid tears soon became torrents, as her body shook with silent sobs. The spamming of her chest waking the man she had risked everything for, the young woman cried even louder when two honey colored eyes looked up at her from between her breasts, and she just wrapped her arms around the abused body of their owner.
Logan pushed at her slightly, trying to escape her smothering embrace, and he tried to repeat some of the words she was blubbering in his ear.
“Sorry…?” He said, all the while looking at her questioningly.
Unable to speak anymore, she just resumed her crying, shifting the slightest bit to allow him to breathe against her. Then, to her surprise, she heard something she thought she would never hear again: “Maaariiie...”
He had remembered her name.
***************************
The man stapled his fingers together in a thoughtful way, his face a mask of concentration. The brown folder resting on the surface of his desk in front of him intrigued him, or more specifically its content. There was no address, no name, only these three enigmatic words on the front page: “Amicus Humani Generis”. Once again, he opened the file, leafing through complicated schemes, chemical formulas and a picture that had struck him in a way he never thought was possible.
The picture was of a naked human form shackled to the ground, and lying on its side with three claws-like appendages protruding from its hands. Then the man sighed for what seemed the millionth time, his index finger resting on the blurry face on the picture. He picked up the receiver of the antique telephone that rested in one corner of the vast wooden expense of his desk.
“Hank…It’s Charles Xavier. When you have this message, please call me back immediately.”
***********************************
They were both asleep when the door to their cell opened with a massive bang, revealing six armored and heavily armed soldiers, two of them holding what looked like high powered fire hoses. The Wolverine still recovering from his morning encounter with the booted men, barely had the time to move before freezing water violently shoved him against the wall. Trying his best to at least sneak an arm around his cellmate in a protective attempt, he pushed on his exhausted legs in order to stand and shield her from the angry blow. Rogue on her part had her two hands uselessly held before her, trying to protect herself from the shards of icy water. With no warning, another hose unleashed its vicious load, but this time aiming at the dirty walls and floor. After what felt like an eternity, the hoses were shut down and the two prisoners were left shivering and dripping in a corner of the cell where they had taken refuge. The room was awfully cold now, turning burning breaths into white little clouds, shockingly contrasting with the surrounding damp darkness. The bloody smudges on Rogue’s face had now given way to a ghostly white skin, the thin bluish veins visible underneath its surface having nothing with the use of her gift. Logan on his part didn’t fare better. His healing factor worked even slower than Rogue had ever witnessed. The grime and blood now vigorously scrubbed from his body, revealed pale white and fragile looking skin where used to reign a healthy completion that spoke volumes about the long stretches of time that the Wolverine spent in the outdoors. Two years of confinement can do that, Marie noted dryly.
They were curled in each other’s embrace, like a mythic couple, when they heard footsteps for the third time that day. Rising to his feet somewhat much faster than the previous time, Logan firmly locked himself between his cellmate and the door. He was tired of this, oh God, so tired, but he had to be strong for his mate… His mate… The word sounded in his mind like a mantra that partially fazed him. When had the young woman become his mate? He wondered. Once again, the darkness in him whispered that she had always been, even before *everything*. Since the young woman had been brought to his cell, his mind seemed to work much better, thoughts took form, words now possessed a meaning beyond their sound, but he didn’t have time to push the analysis any further, though, the door opening angrily and letting in another six pack of soldiers harboring different types of guns. Reaching for a strength he didn’t feel at all, the Wolverine took an offensive posture, ready to pounce at any moment. His cellmate firmly tucked behind him in a corner, He let his claws slide out in the glaring specter of the soldiers’ flashlights.
One of them that had remained hidden in the corridor aimed his gun to the Wolverine’s broad chest, hitting him square in the heart. The soldiers reached for Marie as soon as her companion’s body hit the floor. She fought then, screamed and threw inefficient punches and kicks to the armored men. And now what? She thought. Couldn’t they just finish them once and for all?
She was dragged to another wing of the complex, and unceremoniously shoved on a metal bed. The room looked like a morgue; it had its coldness too. Straps she hadn’t noticed found their way around her limbs, chest and waist. As the six pack left her side, another figure entered the brightly lit room. It was a woman… How strange, she thought. Without preamble, the woman efficiently shoved Rogue’s flimsy covering upward, revealing her most private parts to her cold gaze. One gloved finger, then another invaded her, turning this way and that inside her searching for God knew what. Mortified, Marie closed her eyes and willed her mind elsewhere. Once the sadistic woman was satisfied with her exploration of the young prisoner’s body, she slid the latex gloves off her hands and grabbed a small device, bringing it to her thin lips.
“Time: 1500 hours, subject 23 for step 2 of Revival Program. Subject is intact and healthy. Skin still non reacting, treatment successful. Ready for implantation.”
If Marie could have screamed at this word, she so willingly would have, but the sudden dread this piece of news brought, made her blood turn into ice in her veins. “Implantation… “, “Revival…”, “Intact…”. Suddenly it all clicked together: why they had brought her here instead of killing her when they found her hiding place in the woods that surrounded the complex, why they had put her with Logan, the innumerable tests, and all the blood samples they took, and now why this cold bloodied woman had examined her so thoroughly. As realization struck her, she felt helpless tears run down her livid face. The wanted her to have Logan’s child.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for all the magnificent reviews, they keep me going!
The whole picture becomes clearer and Rogue gets to know what the scientists want with her.
Enjoy!
The whole picture becomes clearer and Rogue gets to know what the scientists want with her.
Enjoy!