Two weeks had gone by. Two goddamn weeks. And Logan was no closer to finding Rogue than he had been after Charles had performed that voodoo Vulcan mind-meld shit to bring him out of his self-induced personal hell. Impatient for the team briefing to be over, Logan ran one hand roughly through his hair, making it stand on end. Scott was providing yet another in-depth review of the information they’d gathered from the lab. Scott’s argument for reviewing the same damn information yet again, was there might be, could be, some information to help them pinpoint Magneto’s location, or give some indication of his plans. The only new bit of information they’d learned was that Stryker had been able to escape the lab before it had been turned into a smoldering pile of rubble. A fact at which Logan was both disappointed and pleased. Disappointed because it meant Stryker hadn’t been blown to bits. Pleased because that meant he would be able to eviscerate the slimy bastard himself.
Trying to keep his attention on Scott, Logan tilted his neck to one side and exhaled as his adamantium covered joints popped loudly. Scott brought up a different page on the display and he forced himself to keep his mind on the meeting. Scanning the new page briefly, he clenched his jaw, teeth grinding together, as Scott began to go over the data. They’d been over this same information countless times and their lack of any concrete leads regarding Rogue’s whereabouts was beginning to piss him off. Even with Cerebro, they’d had no luck in finding Magneto or the others. Something was protecting them or blocking them, preventing Charles from getting a lock on their location.
After Stryker drugged him with the chemical cocktail which had reduced him to a docile, useless simpleton, Logan had barely been cognizant of the torture he’d been subjected to in the lab. At the time, he’d only had a small element of awareness, but he was unable to care, unable to act. As a result, Wolverine had operated on instinct and taken charge, been in control, made the decisions. There were a few times when the pain of what Wolverine had been experiencing had been so intense, so brutal, it had penetrated even the hard shell of numbness created by regular dosing of X29. And once he’d been aware of what was happening, Logan had withdrawn into his mind even further. He couldn’t possibly see his Marie in pain, couldn’t understand why she hurt him, couldn’t accept she had mated with Sabertooth. The drug made it easy not to care.
So, Logan had retreated deep into the recesses of his mind and allowed his imagination to create a suitable punishment for failing to protect her. Again. He had been forced into his old life. A life, which after briefly knowing the warmth and acceptance of Marie, seemed cold, lonely, empty. His former drive to uncover his past now seemed like a hollow, pointless undertaking. He didn’t know what kind of a man he used to be, but he had been starting to realize the possibilities of what was in front of him. But now, that future seemed all but gone. He rejoined the underground fight circuit, but didn’t win. He never won, because the fight never ended. He accepted the brutal physical punishment of his opponents because it was deserved. He didn’t heal because he needed to feel the pain of his failing. He didn’t die because that was too easy.
But Charles had been right to come after him. He’d already wasted too much time. He’d wasted years denying his feelings for Marie, and had wasted days after escaping the lab where he could have been looking for her, too involved in his own self-pity. He was the fucking Wolverine. He was going to destroy anyone that came between him and his mate. Because goddammit, Rogue was his. And he needed her. And whether or not she knew it right now, she needed him too.
As Scott continued to drone on about the manifest of prisoners that had been contained in the lab and any possible connections to Magneto, Logan’s attention began to wander. To his pleasure and dismay, he found himself thinking about his last night at the mansion before their nightmare at the lab. It had been both the first and last night he’d spent with Marie before she’d been taken from him.
The hour was late and the light from a setting half-moon shone in through the open window of Logan’s room. The mansion around them was quiet, the last of its occupants having gone to bed many hours before. The soft sounds of a summer night floated in and filled the room, and Logan slowly stroked Marie’s side as she slept, reveling in her softness and warmth. Her soft curves were flush against the hard planes of his stomach and her legs were tangled with his. One arm propped his head up against the pillow as he leaned forward to breathe in her scent as her chest slowly rose and fell with the steady rhythm of her breath. It was different now; wilder and sharper after he’d covered her with his own scent. But still, that same bright and warm citrusy essence of Marie filled his head, and the beast within him rumbled with contentment and peace.
He’d lost count of the times they’d mated since he’d first claimed her earlier that afternoon, and they’d barely spent more than a few minutes without touching each other since. Logan had left her briefly to take a quick trip to the kitchen after the dinner rush. He had left a sated Marie behind, tangled in the sheets on his bed, her body limp with satisfaction. Though she had half-heartedly protested his leaving with a groan, she seemed to understand provisions were necessary in order to replenish their stamina.
When he’d bumped into Storm in the hallway, arms filled with bread, meat and fruit, she had given him a knowing smile as he winked and grinned back and continued on to his room. Still grinning as he’d entered his room - he’d really have to thank Storm properly for the little talk she’d given him - Marie had asked him what he was so happy about, her own smile echoing the stupid grin he knew must be plastered on his face.
“Nothin’, Darlin’. Just saw Storm in the hallway, reminded me I need to thank her for somethin’,” he said as he turned and closed the door behind him.
“Thank her?” Marie said as she pushed herself up and out of the bed. The deep chocolate and pale silver of her hair was tousled, her cheeks freshly flushed with the efforts of their latest joining, her bare shoulders draped in one of his red flannel shirts. “What for?”
The sight of Marie in nothing more than one of his shirts strolling towards him with her hips swaying caused a surge of renewed lust to run through him and he struggled momentarily to remember that she had just asked him a question. Marie reached his side and plucked a few grapes off the bunch he’d grabbed from the kitchen and popped one into her mouth. Mesmerized by her lips, he imagined them placing sucking bites along his chest as he buried his fingers in her hair. Maybe then he’d lean down to delicately take one of her nipples in between his teeth and she’d arch against him, making that low quiet sound of pleasure he’d discovered she made when he took her in his mouth. Logan felt his breathing quicken as his thoughts turned to even more delicious uses for her sweet mouth, and he realized with another grin that he was ready for her once more. He wondered for a moment if he would ever not want her. If he would ever not be ready at her slightest touch, the scent of her, the sight of her smile. He couldn’t imagine a world in which he wouldn’t. He only regretted it had taken him so many years to finally face what Wolverine had known from the start. That she was his. His match, his mate, his equal.
“For everything,” he growled in response to Marie’s question. He tossed the provisions he’d retrieved from the kitchen onto the coffee table and gathered Marie close to him. She looked up, a look of mild surprise in her face as he gently cupped her jaw with one of his broad hands. She turned into his palm and laid a kiss at the base of his thumb. Moved at the simple gesture, he leaned down and kissed her mouth softly. When he leaned back, Marie had a bemused sort of look on her face.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Ravenous,” he growled. “Come here.”
Logan grabbed the edges of the plaid Marie wore, bringing her tight against him. She let out a startled breath at the suddenness of the action, but quickly relaxed into him, her soft breasts pressing into the chiseled muscles of his chest through the fabric of his t-shirt. Feeling the soft weight of her against him, Logan brought one hand up and raked his fingernails through her hair until he cupped the back of her head. He tilted her face up to his and he looked into her brown eyes, delighting in the dilation of her pupils which signaled her growing arousal. The Wolverine within him was growling in anticipation at the sight and smell of her. She bore his mark at the junction of her shoulder, and draped herself in his garments. Whether she knew it or not, everything about her actions signaled her acceptance of becoming his. She hadn’t been afraid or shied away from his wildness; she had reveled in it, fed off it until she had been nearly as out of control as he had.
Her mouth parted slightly as Logan leaned down towards her mouth. His hazel eyes were locked with hers and he couldn’t suppress the feeling of satisfaction as she looked down at his mouth briefly before meeting his gaze again. Conscious or not, the gesture showed she was submitting herself to him. A surge of arousal spread through him as he wrestled with his inner animal. The Wolverine was once again awakening, stretching, longing to be sunk deep inside his mate.
Logan kissed Marie harder than he intended, the sharp edges of his canines sinking into the soft warmth of her lower lip. She groaned and opened her mouth to him. He tasted the sweetness of grapes on her tongue as she stroked against his. Her hands went to the t-shirt he’d donned at Marie’s insistence when he’d left the room, and raked it over his head. He reciprocated by reaching for the plaid draped around her shoulders and she shrugged out of it, willingly. Now that he was pressed directly against her, skin to skin, he was quickly losing his grasp on restraining the beast. The scent of her arousal was swirling around him and he growled deep in his chest as he continued tasting her, feeling her. He flexed the muscles of his abdomen and his hard length, though contained uncomfortably in his tight jeans, was settled against the softness of her stomach, pulsed. A low moan of awareness issued from her lips and she threw back her head. He couldn’t resist the sight of her pale smooth neck, and he leaned in close to inhale deeply before he grated his teeth along the column of her throat.
A groan rumbled through his chest as Marie ground her hips against him in a circular motion, the roughness of his jeans painful where the material rubbed against him. Her head fell forward against his chest and he felt the warm wetness of her tongue as she tasted him. He couldn’t prevent the impulse to sink his teeth into her and found himself leaning over her to place his teeth in the soft flesh at the nape of her neck. Reaching around with one hand, noting the groan of pleasure, the sharp increase in the scent of her arousal, he grabbed one of her lean, muscled thighs to wrap it around his hips and he began to rock against her. It was a pale imitation to how he would move within her in just a few moments, and he took satisfaction in her frustrated growl. She reached down, hands frantic to undo the button and zipper of his jeans, her hips still tight against him.
“Logan,” she panted. “Help me.”
Grinning at the sound of frustrated pleasure in her voice, he leaned forward to lave one hard nipple with his tongue at the same time rocking his hips forward. She inhaled sharply and her fingers stilled momentarily. “I think you’re doin’ just fine, Darlin’,” he responded as she slowly resumed her attempts to undo his pants.
“Oh, God. Logan. I need you.”
A growl escaped his lips as the words shattered the last of his restraint and he reached between them to unfasten his jeans. He tore them off and with a swift motion had backed Marie up against the wall and lifted her legs around his hips. She angled her hips forward as he braced one hand against the wall behind them. He worked his way forward, easing himself into her slick folds and she gasped as the full length of him settled deep inside her warm heat. Logan let out a deep breath. He didn’t move at first, but simply stayed still, enjoying the incredible tightness of her. The feeling her throbbing around him as she grew accustomed to him once again.
A pesky noise began to shatter the warmth and comfort of his memory. Finally, he recognized the noise as words. It was a name. His name. He shook his head to clear the last of his thoughts. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Shit.
“Logan!” Scott yelled, slamming his fist down on the meeting room table.
“What?” He snarled back, disconcerted to find he had a fucking hard-on at their team briefing.
“Are you even paying attention?” Scott asked, his jaw clenching in anger.
Logan glanced around at the other members of the team, catching Storm’s eye in the process. She gave him a sympathetic look and she looked pointedly toward the display at the front of the room. Logan frowned. The display had changed. It no longer showed information on the other lab prisoners. Instead a news broadcast was flickering across the display. Logan looked up in shock as he took in the scene that was unfolding on live television.
Against the backdrop of a building fully engulfed in flames, a beaten and bloodied William Stryker was currently being held up in the air, by the back of his neck. One eye was swollen shut, the other glared malevolently at his captor. The flickering light of the inferno threw a red light over the scene, and Logan’s insides clenched tight with fear as he realized who held Stryker. Her dark hair was loose and flared red from the reflection of the flames as it was caught in a breeze. Her dark eyes were filled with anger as she stared into the camera. She held Stryker off the ground easily, and Logan was stunned at this new display of power. He wondered again, for the dozenth time, how many mutants Rogue had been forced to absorb in the lab while she’d been under the impression she was helping them.
“Rogue,” Logan let out under his breath. God. Even now, she was so lovely.
Magneto and Mystique were not visible, but a towering Sabertooth stood back and to the left of Rogue. Logan let out a low growl of rage at the sight of Creed. He could sense the Wolverine’s rage, but the beast was deadly silent. Watching. Waiting. Logan focused all his attention on the screen, where Scott had just turned up the volume.
“… has to do is admit to what he’s done. Admit what he did to countless mutants. Admit what he did to me. Admit,” Rogue’s voice nearly cracked, “that the government has been condoning and funding experimentation on mutants -” Rogue’s voice was cut off as the broadcast abruptly ended and the two news anchors were suddenly brought into the frame. They both had stunned expressions on their faces, but the female anchor recovered quicker than her male counterpart and she hurried to clear her throat and address the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the sudden and inappropriate footage that was broadcast just a few moments ago. It appears as though there is a developing situation near Arlington, Virginia-”
It was as though an unspoken command had been issued to the entire team as at once they rose from their seats and hurried toward the jet hangar. Scott led the way, followed by Jean, Ororo, Logan, Hank and Kurt. As they hurried toward their uniforms, Hank suddenly broke off from the group and headed toward the med lab.
Frowning at the departure, Logan barked out angrily at him. “McCoy! We don’t have time!”
“I have to retrieve something that is of the utmost importance. I believe if we are to have any chance with Rogue, I must be allowed to take the time to fetch it!” Hank growled the last part and didn’t slow his pace as he continued on.
Logan, I’ve asked Piotr, Bobby, and Kitty to join you as well. They have been notified and are on their way. They will meet you at the jet in just another minute. You have time to wait for Hank.
“Stay out of it, Chuck,” Logan muttered under his breath as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Adrenaline was flooding his body and he was ready for a fight. Though in reality he knew the few extra seconds Hank needed to fetch whatever it was he needed to fetch, would not make a difference, he was impatient to get in the air. Now that they knew where Rogue was, he wasn’t going to let anyone or anything stand in his way. He’d spent more than enough time without her. It was time to end this.
Logan clicked the ends of his utility belt together and knelt down to secure the latches on his boots. He was finished with his uniform before the others and clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t yell at them for their slowness. He knew, deep down, that they were hurrying. Bobby, Kitty, and Piotr bolted into the room, Piotr shedding his jacket and shirt even as he was still running.
Nobody spoke as they finished dressing and hurried to the jet, Hank loping toward them returning from the med lab. He had a thin and small, black, rectangular device clutched in his hand. It looked similar to a smart phone, but Logan had no clue as to why Hank might have needed to bring this particular piece of equipment along.
Scott and Storm headed to the jet’s controls and Logan tensed as the engines whined, preparing for take-off. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed flying before their jet had been shot down by Stryker, and the memory did nothing to relieve his discomfort as they rose vertically out of the underground hangar beneath the basketball court and screamed into the cloudless late afternoon sky.
Storm’s calm voice sounded through the cabin where the entire team had strapped themselves in, bodies pressed hard against the seats with the force of their speed. “We should be arriving in Virginia in a little over twelve minutes.”
Logan did some quick math. There were two-hundred seventy or so odd miles between Westchester and Virginia. If Scott and Storm could get the jet up to its top speed of 2,200 miles per hour, then Storm’s calculations worked out. Still, a lot could happen in twelve minutes and Logan sat anxiously, his jaw clenched, a low growl emanating from his chest.
Cyclops turned back from the controls to address the team, his red visor glinting in the sunlight. “Our first priority is making sure there are no civilians within the line of fire. Get any bystanders out of the way. Next we’ve got to secure Magneto, Mystique, and Sabertooth. Be cautious here. If Mystique is involved, she has the potential to be posing as anyone. And I do mean anyone.”
“We get it, Cyclops,” Shadowcat interrupted. Logan was a little pleased to hear the note of impatience in her voice. “We’re all well aware of what Mystique is capable of.”
Cyclops shot her an irritated look at the disruption, but continued in his briefing. “Stryker is next on the priority list. Ideally, the Professor wants him taken alive. He believes that any further threats on Stryker, even after what he’s done, may negatively impact public perception of mutants,” Cyclops looked pointedly at Logan
“And what about Rogue? Where exactly does she factor in your priorities?” Logan growled, threateningly.
“Obviously we want Rogue back, Logan. But I’ve seen Rogue in action since the lab. She’s not going to be easy to take down, especially since she’s been programmed to think we’re her enemy.”
Logan growled again at Cyclops’ use of the words, “take down,” and felt the burn of his claws between his knuckles.
Beast cleared his throat in attempt to diffuse the tension and all heads turned towards him. “I believe I may have a solution for this particular predicament,” he said as he held up the small black rectangle. When no one made a move to speak, he continued. “I’ve been spending the last two weeks combing over the files that Katherine was able to retrieve from the lab. Obviously, we know Rogue has had a suppressor chip implanted in her brain. Through this chip, the people at the lab were able to control her actions, emotions, and even her memories. Even so, they had to develop a way to control her via the chip, both quickly and easily. It is my understanding that they developed a program that was accessible by the main computers in the lab, as well as by remote means.” Beast paused a moment, and perhaps sensing the impatient nature of his audience, jumped to the most important part. “In short -”
Shadowcat let out a small scoffing noise under her breath.
“In short,” Beast continued, “I have created a program which I believe will be able to communicate with Rogue’s chip.”
“Communicate,” Logan said, afraid to let his voice reflect the small amount of hope he’d just felt flare to life within his chest. “What exactly does that mean, Hank?”
“It means, my dear Wolverine,” Beast said, tossing the black tablet to Logan who grabbed it quickly, “That we can turn off the chip.”
Logan turned over the tablet in his hands, the screen coming to life with the motion. There was only one option programmed on the screen, Execute.
“It will turn green when it is in range of Rogue’s chip,” Beast said quietly as Logan continued to examine the tablet. “Which should be ten to fifteen feet of the tablet. All you need do is to touch the button when it’s illuminated, and Rogue’s true memories should be restored.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Jean said, grimly. “I don’t know how we’re going to win this one, otherwise.”
“Don’t be so negative,” Shadowcat said quietly, her eyes catching Jean’s.
Jean shook her head tersely. “You didn’t see Rogue at the lab, Shadowcat. She’s absorbed too many mutants. She’s dangerous.”
“Everyone shut up,” Logan growled roughly. “I’ll be the one to deal with her. When we land, I’ll find Rogue. We all know I’m no use against Magneto, anyway.” Logan waited, sure that Cyclops would reject the idea, as obviously Rogue had absorbed Magneto’s powers as well. But Scott nodded his consent and turned his attention back to the controls.
They must have been closing in on Arlington, for the jet began to slow and Logan felt the plane start to descend. Wondering just how Cyclops and Storm had known exactly where to go, he noted the presence of several police helicopters and flashing emergency lights had likely helped point the way.
The wheels of the jet touched down and Logan was the first one out of his harness and to the loading bay. He took a deep breath and steeled himself to face Rogue, unsure of exactly what he was about to encounter.
______________________
Rogue heard the approach of the Blackbird long before anyone else, with the exception of perhaps Sabertooth. She supposed it was her absorption of Wolverine’s heightened senses that allowed her the advantage of hearing their arrival. She knew the X-Men would come. It was in their nature to interfere with business that was not their own. Even knowing the fantastically costumed group would eventually make an appearance, she had not been able to resist going after Stryker once they had learned of his next move. Stupid man. He hadn’t even been trying to hide from her. He was that arrogant, that sure of his own self-importance, that he hadn’t even bothered to have any security stationed outside his home.
Apparently, Stryker had spent the majority of the past two weeks across the Potomac in Washington D.C., trying to explain exactly what had happened to the lab he’d been responsible for when the X-Men had destroyed it, along with all of their meticulously documented research. Mystique had been able to impersonate an aid to one of the higher-ranking officials, and had learned that Stryker, though put through the ringer verbally, had been all but forgiven when he’d revealed the presence of a second lab deep in the Canadian Rockies. A second lab, who’s primary purpose, aside from continuing experimentation on mutants, was to act as a backup server for the data from the first lab. The Colonel had assured the officials that the data was secure, and they would be able to resume their production schedule shortly, even though MRA legislation was projected to fail in the Senate.
As the network of corruption ran deeper than anyone in the Brotherhood had known, they had changed their plan of attack. Instead of simply destroying Stryker, they would have no choice but to expose their unscrupulous government to the world. It had been easy to gain access to Stryker’s house and arrange for a suitable enough disturbance that would send a television news crew out to investigate and report on the fire that had erupted at the home of a high-ranking military official. From there, it had been a simple matter of getting Stryker to admit his role and the government’s role in mutant experimentation. Of course, he’d been a stubborn bastard and refused to say anything, and there had been the minor complication of the news crew’s live feed getting cut. So they’d had to resort to their contingency plan. It was a plan which Rogue had vehemently protested, but she had been outnumbered.
While Mystique had been undercover, Rogue had been busy shielding the Brotherhood from Cerebro. It had been easy once she found the right thread of power inside her. Magneto and Mystique had been content to leave her alone for the most part. From what she had been able to glean, Magneto had no concrete plans for her, other than to make sure she was willing to engage in battle when it came down to it. Her only real annoyance since escaping the lab was Sabertooth. Once she’d found out that Stryker had been responsible for her lustful feelings toward Creed, she’d had no desire to resume any kind of relationship with him. He’d tried to pursue physical contact with her almost immediately after they’d left the lab. That was, until she’d put him through the wall for touching her. Apparently, one of the mutants she’d absorbed had super strength. Still, she caught him staring and growling at her on occasion, and it was beginning to get on her nerves. Something felt deeply wrong about Sabertooth wanting to touch her, but she couldn’t pinpoint why she felt that way, other than the fact that Stryker had manipulated her into thinking she had wanted him.
Now, as the engines of the Blackbird whined with its approach, she glanced in the corner of the partially charred wall where Stryker slumped, unconscious for the moment. Sabertooth growled at her as he flicked his head toward the sound of the jet’s engines.
“Well,” Magneto said seeing Sabertooth’s movement. “Let’s get on with this, shall we? We wouldn’t want to keep the cameras waiting.” And the four of them turned to exit the burnt remains of William Stryker’s home and face the X-Men who’d come to stop them.
______________________
The fire he’d seen on the television had been put out. The house appeared as though it had been on fire several days ago, as no flames or smoke emanated from the charred cinders. Police, ambulance, and firetruck lights were flashing garishly across the windows of the surrounding houses, but the one in front of him had no windows left. They’d either been destroyed in the fire, or by some other means. Logan was doubtful that the firemen would have been able to put out such a blaze in little over ten minutes. Instead, his money was on Rogue using one of her acquired powers to put out the flames.
The news crew who had allowed Rogue’s threat to be broadcast had been busy interviewing the police when their jet had landed in the street, and more news teams had arrived since they’d left the mansion. Now, all cameras were pointed directly at Logan and the rest of the team as they left the Blackbird and headed toward the burned house. Logan had no clue if they were broadcasting live, or were simply recording the scene that was about to unfold. The house had a large cobblestone driveway which led to a three car garage. To the right of the garage, a stairway curved up to the first level of the two-story house. Nice digs for an unscrupulous son of a bitch, Logan thought.
Wolverine sniffed deeply. The smell of charred wood hung heavy in the air, and smoke filled his lungs. The light from a setting sun streamed through the smoke-laden air, but did not reveal either his enemies or Rogue. But deep underneath the smoky scented air, he could just make out her scent. She was close. He growled in anticipation of seeing her and released his claws with a metallic twang.
As though he had conjured her, four figures emerged from the house and began making their way down the staircase toward them. Cyclops halted and the rest of the team followed suit, with the exception of Logan who kept walking until he was slightly in front of Scott. Partially because he couldn’t resist the dig at being in front of Cyclops, partially because he hadn’t been able to stop himself from moving toward Rogue. He noticed Scott’s jaw clenched as Logan stepped in front of him, but he was silent.
“My dear friends. Such a welcoming bunch of faces,” Magneto said as he and the others finished their descent, taking in the eight X-Men who stood before him. Sabertooth had carried the unconscious Stryker in his arms where he was unceremoniously dumped onto the cobblestone driveway that lay between the two factions. Sabertooth looked up and growled at Wolverine, a smug grin frozen on his face. Wolverine curled his lip in response and rolled his neck to loosen the metal infused joints. He was going to enjoy shredding the smug bastard to tiny bloody ribbons.
“Magneto,” Cyclops said. “What do you want?”
“Ah,” Magneto replied, shaking his head slightly. “Again. It is not what I want. It is what we want. A shared goal. A common enemy.”
“Stryker,” Wolverine growled as he raked his eyes over the Colonel’s prone form.
“My hairy, barely intelligible friend is right. After all, have you not heard, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’?” Magneto said with a mocking smile.
Cyclops ground his teeth together but spoke calmly. “What do you propose then?”
“It’s really quite simple. There are enough cameras here to bear witness to Stryker’s confession exposing the deep and profoundly rooted corruption and bias against mutants that has permeated every corner of the government.”
“So. What? We just get Stryker to confess on live TV? Then what?”
As Cyclops and Magneto continued to discuss their ceasefire and plans to expose the government’s corruption, all Logan’s attention was on Rogue. He hadn’t laid eyes on her in nearly three months, and seeing her now calmed something deep inside him. Though he knew the fight wasn’t over, nor had it really even begun, he was confident he would be able to get back his Marie tonight. Mine, the Wolverine growled. Logan’s last clear memory of Marie was immediately following the jet crash, when she’d almost died. He knew that Wolverine had met her several times in the lab, but Logan had not been present. He’d only known that Wolverine had done his best to protect her, right up until he’d believed she’d betrayed them.
Shaking off the memory of their shared pain, Logan noted she did not appear to be on board with Magneto’s plan. In fact, her deep brown eyes were locked with Logan’s. Anger was pouring off her. As his eyes took in her, he noted she had both fists clenched at her side and a spark of energy seemed to arc from her hands. Logan glanced down at the black tablet that was secured in his belt. The display was still red, meaning he was not yet close enough to Rogue to turn off the chip and restore her rightful memories. But somehow, now didn’t seem like the right time. Who knew what would happen if it appeared that he was attacking Rogue while Cyclops and Magneto were still negotiating.
Suddenly, Rogue stepped forward and spoke, interrupting Scott. “No! I will not work with them.”
“Rogue, my dear,” Magneto said, attempting to calm her obvious anger. “If you will just list-”
“I will not!” Rogue said, her voice nearly ripping with the effort of her fury. “I’m done bein’ a pawn. To be used for whatever the hell someone else wants.”
And before anyone had a chance to react, Rogue dropped down to one knee, her fist opening to smack the cobblestone driveway where a giant wave of energy rippled through the stones and surrounding asphalt, throwing everyone back from Rogue by several feet. Logan too, was thrown, and he instantly sheathed his claws lest he inadvertently pierce one of the X-Men. But almost immediately, he felt himself being lifted through the air back towards Rogue. He tried moving, but as he’d suspected, he was frozen, unable to move a single adamantium covered bone in his body. His eyes moved rapidly from side to side, seeing as his teammates scrambled to get up and regroup. As he watched, a wall of ice began to encircle Rogue, sealing him in with her in a frozen barrier at least three feet thick. The surrounding noises became muffled though Logan heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting breaking out as he was suddenly dropped onto the now uneven cobblestone driveway, released from her hold. He took his time standing up, maintaining eye contact with Rogue as he did so. It was just the two of them. Face to face. At last. He grinned in anticipation, claws releasing with a metal snick.
“You. Wolverine. Beat me. Tortured me.” As she spoke, Rogue began circling him within the confines of the icy prison she had constructed and Logan automatically moved in counterpoint to her.
“Now that’s where you’re wrong, Darlin’,” Logan answered. His voice was the opposite of hers. Smooth, relaxed, friendly even. Chancing another glance at the tablet, he saw that it flickered green briefly, then returned to red. He was nearly close enough to deactivate her chip.
“You and I have unfinished business,” she said purposefully ignoring his endearment.
“You’re goddamn right we do, Marie,” he snarled back.
She flinched when he said her name.
“What? Don’t you like it when I call you that? I seem to remember you gettin’ all kinds of hot and bothered when I said it while we were fucking.”
“Stop it,” she hissed and he saw another spark of energy flare from her fingertips.
“You lookin’ for a fight?” He said, grinning at the memory that popped into his head at the words. The smell of her sweat-soaked body beneath the leather of the uniform as she punched the heavy bag, eyes sparking with anger. Glancing at her face, he noticed she frowned for a moment before resuming her slow circling.
“I was just a child when you kidnapped me,” She said, ignoring his question. “When you did unspeakable things to me. All for your own selfish agenda.”
“Nope. Wrong again, kid,” Wolverine couldn’t help notice with satisfaction that being called ‘kid’ had made her nearly as angry as when he’d called her by her name. “Name one thing I did to you. In detail,” he began to close the distance between them, inch by inch.
“I don’t have to. I know what you did.” A tiny shred of doubt had entered her voice. He could smell it on her.
“No. You don’t. Sorry to break it to you, Darlin’,” he said, putting an extra emphasis on the word, just to see her eyes spark again. “But you’re still bein’ manipulated.” He noticed her eyes flick down to the tablet at his belt, which was now illuminated bright green.
“What’s that?” Rogue asked.
Shit.
She moved one hand forward and Logan felt the tablet begin to fly toward her.
“I don’t think so,” and one heavily muscled arm quickly reached out to snag the tablet in midair before she could take possession of it. Without hesitating, he pressed the “Execute” button on the screen. The tablet vibrated briefly in his hands and then -
Nothing happened.
Frowning, he looked down at the tablet. The lone command was now grayed out. And it no longer provided haptic feedback when he tried to press the button again.
Her heard Rogue scoff. “What was that? Some kinda weapon?”
“Somethin’ like that,” Logan muttered under his breath as he tossed the tablet to the ground. He’d been so sure Hank’s technology would come through for them. So sure he would be able to get his Marie back. But the tablet hadn’t seemed to do anything. And he was afraid. Afraid he was going to have to fight her. Maybe even kill her.
“You know what? I’m done talkin’. I do wanna fight you,” Rogue said, eerily echoing his own thoughts. And she used Magneto’s power to throw him against the solid wall of ice, his head cracking painfully on the hard cold surface. She then threw him face down onto the uneven stone driveway and he felt a gash in his cheek open and close almost instantly as his healing factor kicked in. She held him there forcing his body to grind harder and harder into the unforgiving upturned stones and he grimaced with pain.
“No fair,” he grit out.
“Nothing about this is fair.”
“You’ve got that for damned sure."
“You’re right. It’s too easy. You don’t deserve easy. I don’t want this to be over too quickly.”
Just as suddenly as she’d flung him into the wall of ice, she released her hold on him. He was on his feet in an instant and they faced each other. Unmoving.
Looking at her, Logan knew he would not be able to cause her any more pain. If Hank’s program had failed, and she wouldn’t listen to him, he was at a loss for how he would ever get her back. The grief of losing her ripped through him and the Wolverine howled with agony. He sheathed his claws and knelt down in front of her.
“Do it,” Logan said, teeth clenched, preparing for the pain of her blow, trying to ignore the mad scrambling of his beast. He was using half his concentration to keep the Wolverine at bay. Preventing him from taking over and fighting.
She frowned and tilted her head to one side. “Why?”
“Because I love you too goddamn much to face another day without you.”
The blood suddenly drained out of her face. And Marie screamed. The sound tore from her throat as a tsunami of thoughts pulsed out of the center of her brain and crashed down on her. She was drowning in thoughts, emotions, memories. There were too many people, too many words, too much pain. Dozens of lives flashed through her simultaneously and she had no defense, no shield against their unending thoughts. She was lost.
Logan was helpless as he watched Marie sink to her knees, head clutched in her hands, her scream driving the Wolverine within him mad with fright. The tablet must have done its job, but had been delayed for some reason. Nobody had warned him of what might happen when the chip was deactivated. He’d thought only that she would regain her memories. He’d been stupid not to realize the absorption of scores of mutants would also have an impact on her. Marie continued screaming as she grasped her head. And without the Professor to help, he could think of nothing else to do as he clenched his jaw and grabbed a loosened cobblestone from the driveway.
“Sorry, Darlin’. Yer comin’ with me.”
And grimacing as he did so, he took the stone and knocked Marie unconscious, unaware of the chaos outside of the ice.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
First of all, sorry for the delay in getting this next chapter out. The muse has been finicky, and adulting is hard. The struggle is real :/
As this part of the story kept growing, I thought about breaking this up into multiple chapters, but it just seemed to flow better as one piece, so it took a bit longer to put together.
Note to self: in order to make smut easier to write in next fic, tell the story in sequential order without flashbacks etc. I’ve been trying to get in some good smut for ages, but the story just wasn’t letting me. I hope this will tide you all over until I get these two crazy kids back together!
As this part of the story kept growing, I thought about breaking this up into multiple chapters, but it just seemed to flow better as one piece, so it took a bit longer to put together.
Note to self: in order to make smut easier to write in next fic, tell the story in sequential order without flashbacks etc. I’ve been trying to get in some good smut for ages, but the story just wasn’t letting me. I hope this will tide you all over until I get these two crazy kids back together!
Chapter End Notes:
I’d love to know what you thought of this chapter! I think we’re nearly to the end, maybe another chapter or two to go. Thanks for reading!