Rogue:
How the hell did this happen?
No, wait. Let me re-phrase that.
I know how it happened. I may be young, but I’m not stupid and I’ve been aware of the facts of life since the tender age of eleven. When little Oscar Jackman invited me around to his house to see his new tank of tropical fish, my mom sat me down and gave me a long talk. Admittedly, most of it went way over my head and seemed to focus on intimate areas that made me blush an’ giggle in an embarrassed sort of way. The intervening years shed light on my mom’s sketchy explanations to the point where I could consider myself well informed if not actually experienced. My first and only lover certainly broadened my horizons.
No, what I mean is, how did this happen? Because I was under the impression that precautions weren’t necessary – if I’d known the risks I would certainly have been more careful. Maybe I could sue? Somebody’s obviously made a huge scientific faux-pas and ought to be held responsible. Shouldn’t there be a law against lulling people into a false sense of security?
But if I’d known, would I have done any different? I guess not. My emotions and the heat of the moment over-rode my common sense each time. I’ve only got myself to blame – I couldn’t wait to give of myself completely and now I’ve got to live with the consequences of my actions. My life an’ the lives of those around me will be forever changed now, thanks to my own foolish desires.
Is this what I wanted for my future? Yes. In a way. But it’s too early. I wanted to live a little first – have some fun and maybe see some of the world. But that chance is gone now. I have to think of others first. My life and my own wishes are unimportant now.
But it doesn’t have to be like that. There are other …….. possibilities. Do I even want to consider those?
No. But I have to. I have to figure out what’s best for me now that Logan’s gone - now that my lover is dead.
It’s late. I’ve been sitting here for hours, trying to get my thoughts in order – to get my head around the enormity of my situation. I won’t deny it’s been a shock – I feel as though I’ve been doused in ice cold water and hung out to dry. I still can’t believe it. I keep hoping that Henry will knock on my door and tell me that it’s all been a huge mistake. But I know he won’t do that. He’s a brilliant scientist and he knows his job too well. He wouldn’t tell me something so important without being completely sure of his facts.
The mansion is silent – most of the residents are asleep. Kitty sat with me for a time, until fatigue forced her to retire to bed, but I’m too pent up to sleep. My mind is in a whirl of conflicting thoughts. Should I, shouldn’t I? What do I do?
I hear a floorboard creak down the hall. It seems as though someone is up and about, perhaps sneaking down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. What time is it anyway? I glance at the bedside clock, startled to see those glowing red numbers proclaiming it to be twenty past two in the morning. Have I really been sitting here for that long? I thought time only flew by when you were having fun?
Soft footsteps are coming down the hallway now. My room is at the end of the hall so, whoever it is, they won’t be coming much further. Ah, there you go, they’ve stopped. I hear the sharp click of a door opening and then the footsteps again. But instead of receding, they’re getting nearer and I shake my head in puzzlement. Who ……..?
A soft tap sounds at my door. “Rogue? Y’still awake, chere?”
Oh god, it’s the Cajun. “Go away, Remy.”
“Non, chere. Remy not seen de petite for days. He seen the light under your door an’ needs to know that you’re okay.”
“No …….. please ……..” But my entreaty falls on deaf ears as my door slowly opens and a tousled haired figure peers around it. “Remy knows you’re hurtin’, chere, but it’s not good to keep yourself all cooped up alone. Is dere anything Remy can do to help?”
“No. Please ……. go away …….” I turn my head to the side, unwilling to let the Cajun see my face – to see the tears that I know are still staining my cheeks. But those sharp red eyes miss nothing and they widen in surprise as they notice the obvious signs of misery marring my features.
“Y’been cryin’, chere!” Remy immediately steps into my room and closes the door behind him. In the brief interlude as he crosses the floor to the bedside, I can see that he’s dressed for a night on the town – he was obviously in the process of sneaking back into the mansion. His muscular frame is sporting a pair of smart black pants and a loose cream shirt. A red silk scarf is draped casually around his shoulders and a diamond earring sparkles rakishly in one ear. At least, I presume it’s a diamond. I doubt that the image conscious Remy LeBeau would settle for anything less.
Isn’t it strange what the mind dwells on when it’s suffering from shock?
Before I can protest, Remy settles on the bed beside me and reaches for my hand, his handsome face lined with concern. “Speak to me, chere. If you wanna talk about de Wolverine, I’m here to listen.”
“Oh god, Remy!” And suddenly the past few days of bottling everything up comes crashing down on me and I bury my face into his shoulder, sobbing helplessly all over his obviously expensive and sharply pressed shirt, which smells of the Cajun’s cologne with a faint smoky after-scent, curtesy of the nightclub he’s been entertaining all evening. Remy holds me close, stroking my back gently and murmuring soothing words which are lost amidst the sound of my panted efforts to draw breath. “There there, chere. Let it all out. Remy don’ mind havin’ a wet shoulder.”
His kindness overwhelms me and I cry until I haven’t got a tear left to shed and my eyes are sore and swollen. Remy suffers it all in stoic silence, even when I wipe my runny nose on the end of his immaculate silk scarf for want of a tissue.
“Why don’ you tell Remy what’s wrong, eh?” The Cajun tactfully removes his scarf from my immediate reach and hands me a tissue from the box on my bedside table. “A problem shared is a problem halved, non?”
“Remy, ah ……..” And suddenly I want to tell this man the truth – to tell a veritable stranger something that I haven’t even been able to admit to my team-mates. I don’t know why – does there have to be a reason? All I know is that I need someone other than Henry and Kitty to confide in. Someone who will look after me and help me to make the right decisions – someone neutral ……..
“Chere?” Remy’s eyes look devilish in the light from my bedside lamp as he pushes me back slightly to study my tear-stained face, but they are full of genuine concern.
I swallow audibly and draw a calming breath. “Remy, ah …….. oh god, help me, Remy! Ah’m pregnant ……..!”
Wolverine:
The touch is gentle – hesitant – but wakes me instantly from a dreamless sleep, alerting me to the presence of my mate, tucked up against my back. I huff a breath as her hand slides across my hip an’ grazes my stomach, driftin’ sensually downwards to zero in on my morning hard-on with unerring accuracy. I sigh as her cool fingers wrap around my turgid length.
“Good morning, big boy! Looks like you’re in the mood for some fun.”
“Always, darlin’, I reply, an’ then groan as those talented fingers begin to stroke me from base to tip. The delighted giggle that sends a puff of warm air rushin’ across my neck tells me that my lover is pleased with the response her fingers are provoking.
Slowly, an’ with great deliberation, she works me towards my ultimate release, knowin’ exactly how much pressure to use an’ how to move in order to change my breathin’ from slow an’ steady to fast an’ anxious, broken now an’ then by heated moans. I suspect she’s tappin’ into the side o’ me she holds in her head – using my memories to jack me off exactly the way I like it. She’s a talented little minx, I’ll give her that, but I couldn’t care less how she’s doing it as long as I get to come.
In no time at all, she brings me to the brink, but when I begin to move my hips, thrustin’ my eager cock into her fingers, I push her hand away an’ roll over quickly, takin’ her by surprise an’ pinning her to the bed beneath me. She laughs as she looks back into my lust darkened eyes, wriggling her hips an’ begging me without words to take her.
I am only too happy to oblige.
She gasps as I thrust forward, sinkin’ my throbbin’ member deep into her responsive body. For a moment I lie still, content to enjoy the feel of her tight heat around me, an’ then I begin to move, slowly at first but quickly buildin’ pace as the need to ejaculate overtakes my desires. My lover has pleasured me so well that I am just seconds away from releasin’ my seed deep within her.
Our love-makin’ is quick but no less intense, the only sounds those of our frenzied breaths an’ lustful cries as we move together in a dance older than time itself.
Afterwards, I roll, takin’ my lover with me an’ restin’ her on my chest as we slowly bask in the after-glow of our sex-induced high. Still inside her, I stroke her hair tenderly as she rests her head on my shoulder an’ smiles back at me, her green eyes filled with adoration. God, I love this woman. She makes me feel so alive.
As I breathe a comfortable sigh, she tilts her head to look up at me. “Ah love you,” she whispers, softly.
“I love you too, darlin’, I reply instantly, feelin’ myself growing steadily harder an’ wondering if we’ve got time for another ride before breakfast.
“Ah’ve got something to tell you, sugah.” She begins to stroke my chest, almost shyly, sendin’ shivers o’ delight through my body,
“Oh really?” I ask, nonchalantly. “If it’s about how good I am between the sheets, I already know that, darlin’.”
“No, silly!” She swats my arm an’ laughs – a musical sound that I have already grown to love as much as my woman. “It’s something wonderful! Logan, ah’m ……..”
Something bats me on the side o’ the head. “For Christ’s sake, wake up an’ stop makin’ that godawful noise. People are tryin’ to sleep here!”
Confused and disoriented, I roll onto my back, peering into the darkness. What the hell ……..? Where am I? An’ where’s Marie?
An’ then it all comes crashing back – our abduction – the cell. Marie was never here at all. Christ, it was all just a dream!
Jubilee is peering over the side o’ the cot at me. “Wolvie, you okay? You were tossing and turning in your sleep.”
“Dreamin’,” I respond shortly, raisin’ a cuffed hand carefully to my face an’ rubbin’ my eyes with the tips o’ my fingers. “Christ!”
“Well, it must have been one helluva nightmare, ‘cause you were grunting and groaning something awful.” She peers at me myopically in the darkness, obviously unable to see more than a vague outline o’ me. “That sorta thing usually only happens to me when I’ve eaten cheese. Or Gambit’s gumbo. That stuff should carry a health warning.”
“I’ll enlighten him o' that when we get back,” I snap back, then instantly regret the harsh words when I hear her gasp. Christ, none o’ this is the kid’s fault – I shouldn’t be taking it out on her. But that dream …….. it felt so real. I can still feel Marie’s hands on me – her breath on my neck – the gentle poundin’ of her heart as she lay against me. I could swear I was back in my room with my lover in my arms.
What does it mean?
“Will we ever get back home?” Jubilee’s whispered words break into my thoughts an’ I berate myself silently for reminding her of our predicament – as if we could forget.
“O’ course we’ll get back.” I inject my voice with as much sincerity as I can muster an’ hope she can’t see through my ploy. Because I’m beginning to have doubts concerning the plausibility of our escape. Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t about to give up – I’ll never stop lookin’ for a way outta here, but it’s more for her sake than mine. Without the antidote to the C-serum I’m a dead man, so any escape attempt is a suicide mission. But if my life has to be forfeit in order to save the cub, then so be it.
I am about to perjure myself further when I hear movement at the end o’ the hallway. I immediately stiffen, holdin’ up a hand to forestall any queries from Jubilee, an’ then curse colourfully as the lights flare to full intensity in our cell, blindin’ my eyes. “Jesus Christ ……..!”
By the time I can see again, Kelly an’ DaCosta are stridin’ into the cell. Kelly throws a bundle o’ black leather at me. “Put that on.”
I stare in horror at the clothin’ lying on the floor beside me, recognisin’ it instantly. My fightin’ uniform. I was hopin’ that my suspicions of a traitor at the mansion were unfounded, but my uniform’s presence only confirms it. A faint odour o’ cleanin’ fluid surrounds the jacket an’ I realise with a jolt that it’s the one Jubilee so artfully decorated – an’ which I left in Marie’s room. The thought o’ the traitor invadin’ my mate’s privacy so casually sends a growl to my lips.
Jubilee turns her back on me as I strip, blushin’ at the thought o’ me standin’ naked behind her. Gettin’ outta my jeans with the cuffs on is hard enough – gettin’ into the fightin’ leathers is a nightmare an’ neither Kelly or DaCosta offer to help. I am puzzled as to why I’m being forced to wear it, although I have my suspicions. But then I begin to struggle with the zipper an’ I put my thoughts on the back burner until I have solved my immediate problem. Christ! I thought undoing my jeans zipper to have a piss was murder, but this …….. God-dammit!
Jubilee eventually turns around, attracted by my less than gentlemanly language, an’ offers to help. Tactfully, she closes her eyes as she pulls up my pants zipper an’ then grins up at me as she fastens the jacket up to my chin, although there is a blush staining her cheeks.
“I won’t tell Rogue if you don’t,” she whispers, an’ I nod silently, amused by the mouthy teenager being afraid o’ retribution from my mate.
Any further attempt at conversation is halted by my cuffs suddenly clickin’ together in front o’ me an’ I jerk around to see Roberts an’ several other guards enterin’ the cell. Before I can react, two of ‘em seize my shoulders an’ spin me around, slammin’ me face first into the wall. “Hey, easy!” With the barrel of a pulse rifle stickin’ in my right ear to discourage any thoughts o’ gettin’ feisty, the cuffs are released an’ then re-magnetised behind my back. Roberts steps up to my side as the two guards try to push me through the wall.
“You’re being sent on a mission, Wolverine ……..” Roberts begins, an’ I twist my head to catch him in the corner o’ my eye.
“What? In the middle o’ the night ……..?”
The gun stock smashin’ into the small o’ my back almost sends me to my knees – only the strong arms o’ the men holdin’ me keeps me on my feet.
“You are not in a position to ask questions, Wolverine.” Roberts is clearly not in the mood for small talk. “Your function is to serve as our weapon – nothing more, nothing less. Crowe ……..” Oh shit ……. “Prepare him,”
Crowe steps forward, an eerily delighted leer on his face and a device resembling Scott’s visor in his hands. At first sight o’ the opaque eye shield my chest tightens painfully an’ my body begins to shake, involuntarily. I’ve seen something like this before, I’m sure of it …….. I remember it being fitted over my head …….. pain ……… blinding terror ……
I struggle violently in my captors’ grasp, tryin’ to quell the risin’ panic in my gut that is turnin’ the blood to ice in my veins. “Ya ain’t puttin’ that fuckin’ thing on me,” I growl, roughly.
“Oh, but we are, Wolverine,” Roberts assures me in no uncertain terms. “Otherwise the consequences will be most dire …….. for your young companion.”
The two guards holdin’ me against the wall allow me just enough leverage to twist around slightly an’ see Jubilee being restrained by Bonebreaker. He has her back to his chest, his left hand clamped across her nose an’ mouth to muffle her screams. The other is roaming her body, totally oblivious to her kickin’ feet an’ squirming torso. As he catches my eye he grins an’ pumps his hips, grindin’ what I presume is an already well developed erection into her backside to remind her of what she’ll get if I don’t behave myself.
Her eyes, above the almost suffocatin’ presence of his hand, are wide with fear.
I howl in anger an’ frustration, twistin’ in my captors’ grasp. “Ya fuckin’ bastard, Roberts! I’ll tear ya fuckin’ throat out!”
“You only have yourself to blame, Wolverine. Your young companion will be quite safe if you simply do as you’re told. But you repeatedly try to thwart me and it simply will not do. You need to be taught a lesson.”
“Let me do her now, boss.” Bonebreaker puts his hand over Jubilee’s breast an’ squeezes. “He won’t disobey again if I do her right here in front of him.”
Roberts nods his assent.
“Bastard!” I lunge back against my captors, but they’re holdin’ me tight. “Don’t ya dare touch her, I’m warnin’ ya!”
I snarl like a rabid dog as Bonebreaker begins to drag Jubilee towards the cot, fumblin’ with his pants zipper, ignorin’ her terrified whimpers. He laughs at my attempts to free myself an’ then grunts in annoyance as Roberts holds up his hand, silently ordering him to stop. I cease struggling as the bossman steps nearer an’ presses a .45 Defender to my side.
“It’s all very simple, Wolverine,” he croones. “Co-operate and your young companion retains her virginity. Continue to resist, as you did with Frost yesterday, and Bonebreaker will take her right here and now …….. along with anyone else who wishes to have some fun.”
“I’ve been co-operatin’,” I growl back, almost out o’ my mind with fear for Jubilee. “It’s your fuckin’ guards who need to control themselves ………” I break off, suddenly realising this is about more than a simple case o’ me disobeying his guards. What the hell is happening here? Why all the bullshit? It’s almost as though ……..
Oh ……..
Oh god ………
He’s trying to break me ……..
To make me totally an’ unconditionally his weapon …….. his to use as he sees fit, without me havin’ a mind o’ my own.
As if he hasn’t got a firm enough hold o’ me with that fuckin’ serum. The fact that he holds my life in the palm of his hand don’t matter to him anymore – he wants to stamp his authority all over me.
He wants to be the Alpha ……..
An’ if that’s what it takes to save the cub from a whole world o’ hurtin’, then so be it.
‘Cause I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed her to be raped.
But one day, he’ll pay ……… Him an’ his whole damn crew ………
“Alright.” I allow myself to relax in my captors’ grasp, showing my obedience. “Get on with it.”
“A wise decision.” As if there was ever one to begin with. Roberts signals to Bonebreaker an’ he releases the cub, givin’ her a little push away from him. She immediately rushes to my side, tryin’ to get her arms around me for protection despite the overpowerin’ presence o’ the two guards. “Logan …….. oh god ………” I’ve never heard her call me by my real name before an’ it serves to show how scared she must have been to use it this time.
I try to cover her with my body, but the two guards push her roughly aside as Roberts once again moves forward to assert his authority.
“Now that we’ve established just who exactly is in charge here, let’s get on with the procedure.” He gestures once more to Crowe. “You know what to do.”
Despite my promise to behave, I can’t help but struggle as he fits the visor into place over my eyes. I’m convinced I’ve worn something like this before, an’ fractured pieces o’ memory are startin’ to leak through the mush the previous Weapon X scientists made o’ my brain. I can’t lock onto anything solid, but the feelin’ o’ terror inspired by the shiny metal visor is all-encompassing an’ forces an actual whimper o’ fear from my lips. As the visor touches my temples, there’s a sudden sensation o’ suction an’ it locks into place, leavin’ me starin’ at the wall through a smoky grey eye-plate. I have a suspicion the device has been magnetised to my metal skull in order to keep it in place an’ the sense o’ being trapped inside the nightmare contraption sends my heart racing.
I can feel Crowe fixin’ a microphone an’ earpiece into place an’ I snap at his hand when it roams too near my mouth – the beast within is beginning to assert his control over my rapidly weakening psyche. The punishment for my hasty attack is a smack across the back o’ the head with the stock of a pulse rifle, an action which has a two-fold effect as my forehead rebounds off the wall with the force of the blow. Shakin’ my head as stars explode before my eyes, I struggle to stifle the snarl that is forming on my lips, painfully aware that if I lose control now, the cub will suffer Roberts’ revenge.
I startle as Jubilee suddenly shoulders between the guards, pushin’ her way to Crowe’s side. Her face is white an’ her eyes are dark with fear, but there’s a grim set to her features as she squares herself up to the guard.
“You’re setting him on edge – he’ll be calmer if you let me do it.”
I see Crowe glance at Roberts, raising a questing eyebrow. Roberts hesitates for the barest moment an’ then nods, curtly, steppin’ back to allow the cub to take his place. Crowe guides her hands to the visor, explaining in clipped tones what he wants her to do. Jubilee listens intently to his instructions – instructions which are lost on me as I try to get my breathin’ under control.
A gentle hand alights on my arm an’ I look down into the cub’s cornflower blue eyes as she shows me a short coiled wire which is attached to the visor’s earpiece.
“This is the final connection, Wolvie. It needs to plug into the port in the back of your neck. Okay? He says there will be a moment of disorientation but that it should pass quickly.”
I nod sharply to show that I understand. “Get on with it.” I growl, roughly.
Jubilee takes a deep breath an’ reaches to the back of my neck with the lead. As she pushes it home with an audible click, blinding light assaults my eyes an’ I reel sideways, overcome by a sudden rush o’ nausea an’ dizziness. My two bodyguards hold me up as I struggle to ride the flood of conflicting information which is threatening to drop me face first to the floor.
“Jesus Christ ………!” As my head clears an’ my vision returns to normal, Crowe pushes Jubilee aside an’ activates his own comm device. “Control, this is Crowe. He’s plugged into you now. Are you receiving?”
A pause, then I can just make out a tinny voice coming from the guard’s earpiece. “Copy that. I’m receiving him loud and clear. His heartbeat and respiration are a bit erratic, but he’s adjusted to the feed just fine.”
“Copy that, Control.”
Roberts steps in once more as my two guards pull me away from the wall an’ swing me around to face him. “You have been fitted with the latest in surveillance and tracking equipment, Wolverine. The visor is actually a camera – we will see everything as you see it, so don’t even think about double-crossing us. We will know instantly. The port in your neck allows us to feed information directly into your brain – it will appear on your visor as a virtual display. We can also monitor your body functions and manage the mental impulses that control your claws – a necessary precaution should you decide to dispatch your handlers once the cuffs are removed. The visor also contains standard communication equipment, which I assume you are familiar with.”
“Thought of everything, ain’t ya?” I growl back. I ain’t exactly over the moon with the notion of ‘em being able to control my claws, but the deed is done an’ there’s nothing I can do about that right now. With luck, they’ll never have occasion to do it.
“The visor was a necessary precaution considering your particular talents, Wolverine,” Roberts informs me. “It has other uses as well, but if you carry out your mission to our satisfaction you need never find out about those.”
Well, ain’t that just peachy? “An’ the mission is?” I ask, humourlessly.
“You will be briefed en-route.” Roberts raises a hand an’ Kelly an’ DaCosta step forward. “Your handler is waiting with the helicopter, Wolverine.” Ah, that’s where Frost got to. “Carry out your mission satisfactorily and you will be rewarded. Fail, or refuse to return to us, and your young companion will have the opportunity to become intimately acquainted with several of your former guards.”
“I’ll be back,” I snarl, roughly. “Y’hear me, darlin’?” I add, turnin’ my attention to the cub. “I ain’t gonna abandon ya, no matter what.”
She nods slowly, attempting an encouraging smile as Kelly an’ DaCosta begin to lead me from the cell. God, I hope she’s gonna be okay. Because if they harm one hair on her head while I’m away, believe me, blood will flow. An’ Roberts an’ his fuckin’ serum can go to hell for all I care.
An’ if that’s what it takes to get my revenge, I’ll be happy to join him there ……..