Growling, Logan stepped out into the clearing, his body rippling with tension and suppressed fury.
The man looked up in surprise, clearly shocked to be taken unaware. Angered, he stood up slowly, flexing his own muscles in anticipation as he placed himself territorially over Rogue’s prone form.
Logan took stock of younger feral; his height, breadth of shoulder, the powerfully muscled frame. A bit taller than him – a bit leaner. His growl deepened as the scent that haunted him for weeks became fleshed and pervasive all around him. Achingly familiar as it was foreign.
His son.
The mask hid the face, but Logan saw Itsu. The eyes. Cimmerian and brooding, they were full of contempt - like hers had been when she discovered his mutancy. Logan’s jaw clenched, remembering. Itsu threatened to kill herself, convinced she would give birth to a monster. Like him. He could still hear her, screaming, crying – hating him, hating their unborn child. Now his guilt over her eventual murder was shadowed by shame, knowing her fear had come true.
Hatred seeped from his progeny, unfettered by doubt or resentment. There was nothing for Logan to reach out to; nothing to encourage conciliation. The emotion was cold – old - a foul odor that clung to most of Logan’s enemies. But there was something else. Something hot and new and recognizing it, Logan became much more wary.
“Get away from her.”
His son grinned, a flash of white against the black of his mask. “Now why would I do that, Dad?”
Logan kept his eyes hooded and his body still. “The female is mine.”
Daken waved his hand in Logan’s direction, his grin broadening. The scent that wafted towards him was unmistakable. “Not anymore."
The thunderous roar that ripped from Logan’s throat was primal. Lunging towards his declared rival, his lips curled back to bare his canines, his claws shooting forward as they glinted menacingly from the bright sunlight breaking through the canopy of branches above him.
Daken’s grin turned fierce as his own claws tore out from between his knuckles to meet his father’s attack. Adamantium blades stabbed into dense muscle, blackened bone pierced into hardened sinew. It was a time warp of older and younger Wolverines as son and father attacked each other with berserked fury, neither hesitant in their strikes, both focused on killing the other. Blood sprayed across the forest floor with every slash, arcs of crimson flinging high into the air before splattering against the green foliage around them.
Gruesome and relentless, the two ferals fought; carving and rending, hacking and tearing with an equal, ferocious intent.
Sounds from the sanguinary battle made its way across the park, reaching Central Parkway West where crowds remained despite attempts by the NYPD to disperse them. Listening, they instinctively stepped back, a uniform line of humanity retreating in fear. Fueled by morbid curiosity, they looked to each other, wondering what could be responsible for the horrific din coming from within the Ramble.
The H.A.M.M.E.R. agents guarding the perimeter of the park swallowed nervously, keeping their faces forward as they clutched their weapons with white knuckled hands. They didn’t want to know.
Cyclops stayed close to the lake, eyes scanning the water’s edge. He could make out the yells of his X-Men to the left of him, gritting his teeth when he heard Gambit’s - then Nightcrawler’s panicked words over their shared telelink.
Jubilee’s sighting of Blindspot dressed as Spiderwoman plus Mystique’s confirmed presence added to the grimness of the situation. More and more players were showing up as described by Destiny’s diary and Cyclops’s apprehension grew as he sorted recent events through his mind. Rogue had become an Avenger as predicted by the journal but it also stated her death would be the fault of one. It was now clear that the band of imposters parading as Avengers were the ones posing the threat, but so far, none of his X-Men have seen the item he was searching for.
Frustrated, Cyclops ran along the muddy bank, his heart pounding in his chest. What he really wanted to do was to find Rogue and take her far, far away, back to Mississippi where she had been safe. With him. The professor had been unable to protect her, but he could. He would.
“Stop, X-Man. You are under arrest.”
Startled, Scott looked up. A figure dressed similarly to the Iron Man was hovering above him, arms folded across its chest. Or was it Captain America? It was a cross of the two, whatever it was, and Scott’s eyes narrowed, catching sight of the weapon strapped across its back.
Forcing himself to remain calm, he demanded, “Who the hell are you supposed to be?”
“I am Iron Patriot, leader of Freedom Force.” The robotic voice made it similar to Iron Man’s but there was enough of an infliction to differentiate it from the real Avenger. “Call off your X-Men, Cyclops, and maybe I can be persuaded to let you and your team off with a warning.”
Scott placed his hand on the side of his visor, keeping his eyes on the hilt jutting past the Iron Patriot’s shoulder. “Isn’t that the Muramasa Blade?”
The ironclad man pulled it from its scabbard and brandished it, making a show of looking at it. “Yes, it is.”
“Why do you have it?”
“This is United States property, Cyclops. Why wouldn’t I have it?”
“It belongs to the Wolverine. Give it to me and I maybe I can be persuaded to not blast a hole through that pathetic attempt at a real hero’s uniform.”
Bright light exploded from the palm of the Iron Patriot and Scott was barely able to jump out of the way before it tore into the ground where he had been standing. He set off a blast in retaliation and it hit dead on, sending the Freedom Force leader back several feet over the water.
Iron Patriot’s foot thrusters pushed him higher into the air, aiming both hands downward towards Cyclops. Lasers cut a clean line through the thicket of trees as Scott ran, igniting the brush despite the dampness left behind by the storm. The resulting inferno surrounded the X-Men leader, forcing him to swing around to face his pursuer, trapped.
“This is your final warning, Cyclops. Surrender now or deadly force will be used against you.”
Suddenly, the roar of the Wolverine reverberated through the forest and they both turned towards it. Bracing himself, Scott smashed through the wall of fire blocking his way and ran in the opposite direction from the sound. He needed the Muramasa Blade to be far away from the Wolverine, knowing that was where Rogue must be.
Iron Patriot followed, incinerating trees to prevent Scott’s escape. He pulled up short when he found himself hovering over the intersection of 79th Street where the sight of cameras pointing at him, both amateur and professional, infuriated him.
“Get these civilians out of here!” he bellowed, sweeping his arm in the crowd’s general direction. Pandemonium broke out; people screaming in fear as they scrambled to get away from terrifying mutant who they witnessed destroy the park with reckless abandon.
Seeing people getting hurt in the crush, Cyclops raced to the barricades and pulled them down, giving room to those being trampled by the surging crowds behind them. Policemen moved in to help him, redirecting the spillover to prevent further casualty as news crews moved in to catch the action.
Suddenly, Cyclops flew forward as a blast caught him square on the back, slamming his body against the wall of the building in front of him. Groaning, Cyclops got up off the sidewalk, the skin not covered by his torn uniform blistered and raw.
“What the hell are you doing?” demanded a sergeant, stepping forward. “This man was helping us!”
Iron Patriot fired another blast but Cyclops jumped in front of the police officer, taking the hit. Smoke rose from his body as he collapsed to the ground a second time. This time, he didn’t get up.
“Anymore objections?”
“Actually, I have one,” came a voice from behind him. Iron Patriot spun around and came face to face with the real Iron Man.
“That is one awful knock-off, Osborne.” Tony Stark shook his head in disapproval. “They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery but man, I am just all shades of insulted. You should have stuck with an all Iron Man theme and left the stars and stripes out of it."
Infuriated that his identity was revealed, the H.A.M.M.E.R. director sent repulse beams towards the Avenger.
Iron Man avoided the clumsily executed blasts, sweeping up civilians in the way and depositing them at a safe distance. Large pieces of stone broke free from the American Museum of Natural History’s façade and were about to fall on top of people underneath when suddenly a large canopy of webbing formed, trapping the debris and drawing the wreckage away from the fleeing crowd.
Gasped cheers of “Spiderman!” reached Osborne’s ears, sending him into a frenzied rage. Screaming, he flew towards his detested nemesis, raining more blasts against the buildings he passed, completely oblivious to the destruction left in his wake.
H.A.M.M.E.R. agents pulled back, not knowing what to do. Getting no direction from command, a few left their posts to help evacuate the heavily damaged buildings, the chaos around them growing as others followed their suit.
“Time to get this fight back into the park, Avengers!” instructed Captain America, showing up with S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers who spread out to help. He picked up the seriously wounded Cyclops and handed him off to Luke Cage. “Take him to headquarters for medical care and inform Professor Xavier.”
Ms. Marvel flew over to him, flexing her hands. “I’m going in, Captain.”
The Avenger leader gave her a hard look. “I need you out here, Carol.”
She snorted in response. Jessica Jones came up behind them. “Thor and Hawkeye are helping with crowd control and Spiderman’s swung into the park, taking Osborne with him.”
“Good. I’m staying here while Iron Man and Spiderman focus on this Iron Patriot fellow. Officially, our directive is civilian safety.” He gave them a meaningful look and shifted the shield in his hand before turning away from them.
Jessica and Carol grinned at each other. In a flash, they were off, flying into the Ramble to join the battle.
“Stop running!” demanded Jubilee, lungs burning as she continued to chase down Blindspot. “It’s a damn fight, for crying out loud! Don’t be such a coward!”
She was frustrated. They had come full circle, racing back into the trees again. Seeing Cyclops, Jubilee called out to him.
“Can you take over? I can’t catch her and I need her uninjured!”
“Leave her to me,” he told her, looking over to where Blindspot ran off to. Jubilee thanked him and set off towards Colossus who had Kimura pinned to the ground.
Reverting back to her natural form, Mystique smirked and set off after Melanie. She knew where the younger woman was headed.
Rolling onto his back, Logan kicked Daken off him, pushing against his chest with both feet and sending him through the air to land heavily against a large tree. The force of the throw made the tree give way and it crashed to the ground, leaving its mutilated trunk jagged and splintered. Leaping back up into standing position, he extended his arms on either side of him.
“Give up, Daken. You’re no match for me.”
Daken sneered, snapping his head back and forth and hunching back on his legs in preparation for another go at his father. “To think they call me the insane one.”
“You’ve gone too far, boy. You should have never touched her.”
“I haven’t gone far enough, old man. But I’ll make it up to her. I just need to get rid of the trash first.”
With another roar, Daken launched himself at Logan, curling into himself at the last second to avoid the larger man’s claws. Twisting into a half somersault, Daken punctured his blackened claws into Logan’s chest, tearing into the muscles flanking alongside it. Grunting from the effort, he lifted Logan over his head, using his father’s tremendous weight to make his claws slide deeper into his ribcage before slamming Logan onto the ground. He stomped his foot on Logan’s throat, his eyes gleaming victoriously.
“There is nothing mighty about you, Wolverine.”
Logan coughed up the bloody mucous that rose in his esophagus, blowing it out forcefully towards Daken who swerved to avoid the plasma clotted missile.
“Yer too cocky, kid.” Lunging forward, he pierced Daken’s thighs, twisting his claws to mangle the muscles there before shoving him backwards. Daken screamed and again Logan skewered the younger man’s legs, stabbing through his calves and carving downwards to his ankles, leaving the flesh in ribbons.
“Time to learn a little humility before you die,” he muttered before breaking through bone.
Daken fell to his knees in a wordless scream. He swung his claws towards his father but Logan easily evaded his strike, eyes expressionless as he stared down at the tattered body of his son.
“There’s nothing for me to learn from you!” Daken spat out, gritting his teeth from the excruciating pain he was in. “Everything you are, I am, only better! I am what you failed to be!”
Chest heaving, Logan retracted his claws and rolled his shoulders back as his body worked to repair itself. “You are past redemption, Daken. I don’t care what’s goin’ on in that fucked up head of yours. You should have stayed away from her. I protect what’s mine.”
Daken managed to lift himself onto all fours, gasping from the pain the effort caused. “You protect only what you want to keep, Wolverine,” he snarled, shaking his head clear, “and abandon what you don’t. But I will make you lose everything. Rogue is mine.”
“Like I said, boy. You’ve gone too far.” Logan grabbed Daken’s leg and flipped him over, dropping him to the ground on his back and keeping him there by slamming his fist down, his two outer claws trapping his son on either side of his throat. A deep sadness rolled over him. There was nothing redeemable in the man beneath him. He was a carcass of seething poison.
“You don’t deserve the gift of dyin’,” Logan told him quietly, leaning down so closely he could smell Rogue on the other man’s breath. “Especially by my hand.” He re-sheathed his claws and stood up over his defeated son. “It takes strength and courage to live with honor, Daken. You have neither.” He turned towards Rogue, her moan telling him she was regaining consciousness.
A surreal mixture of disappointment and joy rippled over Daken as he watched his father walk away from him. He had waited so long, worked so hard to get to this point and conversely, now that the time had finally come to exact his revenge, he felt a strange calm.
“The burden of honor is what makes you weak, Wolverine. Something I refuse to bear.”
Daken pushed forward, shooting out singular claws from the underside of his wrists. They stabbed straight through Logan’s back, their ends gleaming where they exited from his stomach.
With a surprised grunt, Logan fell to his knees, staring at the metal coated claws that skewered him.
The remaining X-Men stopped fighting at the sound of Rogue’s anguished scream. Ms. Marvel arrived just then and stepped in front of Moonstar and Kimura, Jessica Jones behind her.
“Go to her. We’ll take it from here.”
Whitefaced, Jubilee grabbed Piotr’s arm and they both raced off, Jean-Paul flying ahead of them.
Breathing heavily, Daken pressed his foot against his father’s back to free his tertiary claws, sending the older man crumpling to the ground.
Rogue scrambled to Logan’s side, pulling him onto her lap and pressing a hand against his wounds. Blood bubbled up and poured out of his abdominal cavity, flowing through her fingers despite her desperate attempts to staunch it. A horrible déjà vu came over her. Logan was bleeding out; she could hear and feel his heartbeat racing as his breath shallowed. Cool sweat beaded along his forehead and his eyelids began to flutter closed.
Rogue grabbed his face between her trembling hands and shook it, forcing him to stay awake. “Logan? What’s happening? Why aren’t you healing?”
He blinked, fighting to stay conscious as he felt his internal organs begin to shut down. Logan recognized the cast of metal that coated the wrist under-claws of his son. After all, a piece of his soul was used to create it. The alloy born from his quest for revenge - forged into the only weapon in the world capable of killing him - was now wielded by the person the powerful katana had been brought into existence to avenge. The irony was almost poetic in its justice. Except for its cruel unfairness. To her.
Looking up at Rogue’s stricken face, Logan smiled sadly. “You’re so beautiful, darlin’.”
“Please, Logan,” she begged, seeing his skin turn pale, feeling his body cool down. “You need to fight this. You need to stay with me. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
Placing his hand against her cheek, he asked, “Do something for me, Rogue.”
Blinking away the tears blurring her sight, Rogue nodded, peeling off his mask as her eyes poured over his handsome face.
“Kiss me. Right now.”
She did instantly, completely oblivious to the blood that filled his mouth, her lips capturing his with a muffled sob. Everything in her screamed in denial. She wasn’t losing him. She wasn’t. Logan was indestructible, Logan was immortal. He wouldn’t die, he couldn’t. This beautiful man, strong and powerful, the very essence of virility and vivacity was not dying.
The Wolverine does not die.
Seeing darkness tunnel his vision, Logan gripped her hand in his, hazel eyes bright with emotion as they focused on hers. “I love you, Rogue. I will always, always love you.”
She shook her head, refusing to hear the farewell in his voice. Angry, she buried her fingers into his hair. “I forbid you to die, Logan. You hear me? You keep your promise to me –" Rogue broke down, barely able speak over the horror of losing him. “Please, Logan. You can’t leave me. You can’t.”
Logan fought. Fought hard. So many times, too many times in his long life he had hoped for death, the misery of his existence overwhelming at times. But now, when he finally found a reason for living, he was going to be cheated of his happily ever after. Her pain – oh god – her pain. It hurt more than his.
“Rogue, darlin’. I’m inside you, a part of you. I will always be there. Loving you.” He pulled her face down to his and kissed her hard, passionately, his fingers gripping her face to keep it in place and taking what he could.
But Rogue was crying openly by then. Her eyes widened when his hands fell away, the last of his strength used as he closed his eyes with a ragged exhale of breath.
Her throat closed into itself as she grabbed him tighter to her, pressing her forehead against his as she rocked him back and forth in her arms, a keening noise escaping her. Her hot tears splashed down on him, rolling down his cheeks as if he had shed them.
Oh god. Please. No. Nononononononono…
Rogue screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed.
Staring down at them, Daken’s eyes flashed angrily. He called over his shoulder, his voice cold. “Come here, Melanie.”
Blindspot appeared beside him, trembling and eyes downcast. Impatient, Daken pushed her to the ground beside Rogue.
“I want her emptied. Now!”
Hearing Logan’s heart stop, Rogue’s world did as well. She felt herself sucked into a soundless vacuum, pushed into the recesses of her mind where it was quiet. Very, very quiet. Nothing mattered. Not anymore.
~ I love you, Anna Marie D’Ancanto. I always have. I always will. Forever. ~
Logan’s last conscious thought echoed through Rogue’s mind, growing fainter and fainter. She closed her eyes to hang on it, draping herself over his body as Melanie’s fingers touched her bare arm.
And Marie remembered.