“How do I always get wrapped up in this shit?” Logan muttered out of the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t that he was worried about being found out. No. That ship had already fuckin’ sailed. He was just more concerned with how the hell they were gonna get out of the mess they’d gotten themselves in.
The hall was flooded in flashing tones of red and yellow, the blood-curdling scream of sirens blaring in his ears. Another swell of guards in gas masks and riot gear were rounding the corner, and the quick pop of gunfire made him grin with anticipation. Logan snarled as he sunk his claws deep into the nearest chest and beating heart he could find. His growl echoed along the long hallway along with a shout. A scream.
Wait. Her scream.
He whipped his head around, droplets of sweat and blood flying to see a fresh round of bullets had grazed Rogue’s left arm where she had been trailing behind him. The scent of her pain and fear ratcheted up several notches and he felt the beast within growl with anger.
“Fuck!” he rounded on her. “What the fuck did I tell you about getting shot, kid?!”
“I can take care of myself!” she shouted at him, even as she gripped her arm in pain.
“Really?” he gritted out as he dispatched the closest guard with another smooth slice of his claws through his skull. The man dropped like a stone and Logan turned back to continue yelling at her. “Then tell me what the fuck all that blood is about?” he snapped. She was seething, thoroughly angry at him. Good, he thought, even as he watched the flow of red trickle down her arm over the black leather. The shock of her pale skin was just visible where the bullet had torn through her uniform, and a ripple of disgust tore through him. He fucking hated it when she bled. She was better at protecting herself than she used to be, but goddamn. He couldn’t fucking stand it when she was in trouble. He always needed to be a step ahead of the shit storm she constantly felt the need to put herself in. Always tryin’ to prove herself.
At least he could still hear her trudging along after him, so it didn’t appear to be too bad. And as much as he hated the thought of her hurting, he knew from previous experience that the pain would help keep her focused. It would help her to stay alive and get the fuck out of there. Logan chanced another look back at her face as they rushed down the corridor, and he found her scowling at him.
“You shoulda been more careful. What are ya supposed to do when they other guys have guns? Fuckin’ stand there? No. Yer supposed ta get the fuck down.” He couldn’t help the growl of anger that issued from his chest. The scent of her blood just put him on edge.
“It’s just a scratch, Wolverine. Some of us bleed and keep bleeding. And you’ve been shot at least seven times already! So why don’t you stop worrying about me and just focus on getting us the hell out of here?”
A low growl issued from his throat at her response. He hated that tough little act, that hardened attitude she took on when she was hurt. Who did she think she was foolin’? Besides, didn’t she know by now that he’d get them out of there? That for the last ten fuckin’ years he’d always gotten them the fuck out of whatever shit they found themselves in?
He was thoroughly pissed that she was on this mission to begin with. Logan’d had a bad feeling about this place from the moment Chuck had briefed them on their objective. Whatever this newest attempt at annihilating mutant-kind was, it was apparently scary enough for even Charles to show the smallest amount of fear. He didn’t think anyone else had noticed, but Logan wasn’t just anybody. The telltale twitch of a muscle in his jaw was all the hint Logan had needed to know whatever they were about to uncover was truly fucked up.
It wasn’t until Xavier had announced that Rogue was to be en pointe for a critical stage of the mission that he’d nearly lost it. Rogue was better than she used to be on the ground, but she was still vulnerable. Still capable of getting hurt. Or shot, he thought darkly. The plans for the weapons system were complex and intricate though, hundreds of memorized passwords that were constantly updated and changing. The tech was too sophisticated to be infiltrated. A little piece or two of intell wasn’t going to cut it. What they needed was the weapon’s developer, or at least, his memories and thoughts.
And that’s where Rogue came in. She was their insurance policy. If they couldn’t get what they needed from the developers, then she was gonna have to put her neck out there and touch some bastard so they could win the fuckin’ day. The fact that Charles had never before asked Rogue to absorb anyone told Logan they were in a more desperate situation than the others realized.
From the moment they had breached the facility, they hadn’t stood a fuckin’ chance. Kitty had screamed over the comms that the security system had been activated and they’d better move their asses if they were going to have a chance at getting what they needed. They hadn’t even gotten close. They had barely made it past the outward perimeter when the alarms had wailed and a burst of static had exploded in their comms. They hadn’t been able to reach anyone else since.
A second team consisting of Shadowcat and that new smooth talkin’ asshole Gumbo or whatever the fuck his name was, had been headed into R&D to see how far along the build actually was. He had no idea what’d happened with those two after they’d lost contact. Once the security system had activated and guards started showing up he’d only had one priority, to get them the fuck outta there in one piece.
As a result, the mission was a goddamn lost cause, Rogue hadn’t absorbed anyone, and now he was dragging her sorry ass down a myriad of hallways, his mind buzzing as a flood of sensory messages threatened to inundate him. He tried to focus on those sounds and scents that would help save their asses and ignore the flaring of anger he felt at the piss-poor information gathering that had gone into this operation. The smell of smoke. The roar of gunfire. The sound of footsteps. Fuck. The other way then. The note of fear that was creeping into her voice as she tried again to reach the others on her comm.
No. Focus. He tried to recall the layout of the facility in his head that he’d memorized. An exit to the northwest and southeast quadrants of the building. But where the hell were they now? They had headed...east? Maybe? Fuck. When it was clear they’d been discovered, they had taken off running, not caring which direction they went when the fucking horde of armed guards came tearing down the corridor after them. If it’d just been him, he would’ve stayed and killed them all. But Rogue was with him, and as much as she’d learned in the last ten years, even she wasn’t immune to bullets. And because he wasn’t gonna let anything happen to Rogue, he’d made her run. It hadn’t been easy. Even as he was forcing her to safety, she’d been reluctant, tryin’ to tell him she’d be fine, that she could handle herself. And now, several minutes later, every single one of these goddamn empty sprawling hallways looked identical. They might as well be rats in a goddamn maze.
Acting on pure instinct, he went left at the next corner, semi-dragging a struggling and pissed off Rogue behind him. She was currently hurling expletives at him, and he tuned out her words - Damn the kid had a mouth on her when she was pissed - focusing instead on all of his senses to help them find a way out. He inhaled deeply, sensing the slightly less stale air to his right and tore around the next corner.
He tightened his grip on her uninjured arm and moved ahead, just as the the sound of a wall being blown apart down the hall had them skidding to a halt. The bastards had grenades. Fuck. Had to turn around. He didn’t want either of them to get torn up by that shit. Picking tiny shards of metal out of your skin was no way to spend an evening out. Even if they were livin’ it up in goddamn Siberia.
But then. Shit. Too late. The metallic slide of another pin echoing in the passageway met his ears. Instinctively, he whirled around to press Rogue’s body against the far wall, just as the opposite wall exploded and a heavy shower of cinderblock, smoke, and metal shrapnel rained down on them. Rogue’s quick inhale was swallowed by the sound of the debris crashing to the ground and Logan let out a grunt of pain as he registered a rather large piece of metal that had lodged itself between his shoulder blades.
Once the threat of any further falling wreckage had passed, even the plumes of smoke clouding the air couldn’t mask the fact that a fresh round of guards was advancing. He could hear them scrambling, struggling to get up and over the blown apart wall and he turned to face the next wave of assholes comin’ for them. They just didn’t stop.
Logan snarled, throwing his claws into the throng of guards, not giving a shit where they landed as long as they drew blood. He heard a grunt of satisfaction from Rogue at his back as she kneed the man at her right. A sickening sort of crack followed and she ignored his pitiful cry of pain as she wrenched the Glock out of his hands and started picking off the guards that Logan hadn’t disemboweled.
Logan shot her a quizzical look over his shoulder, before she threw the gun down to the floor, cocking one brow. “What? Desperate times…” she muttered, before she inhaled sharply. Puzzled at her reaction, he sniffed the air thinking she’d gotten fuckin’ shot again, but he didn’t sense any fresh blood coming from her. He stopped at the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder.
“Jesus, Logan. Hold still a second, would ya?” And before he could nod, she’d pulled, slowly working the piece of scrap of metal out of his skin. An involuntary hiss of pain left his mouth even as he was grateful for her help. His body would have forced out the metal eventually, but it would’ve taken him a hell of a lot longer to heal.
Her gloved fingers roved lightly over the shredded leather of his uniform as he felt his skin begin to close itself back up. He heard the smooth slide of leather against skin and then the unexpected warmth of her bare hands against the rapidly healing skin of his back. The nerve endings were still sensitive and he almost jumped at the unexpected feeling of her touch. He didn’t move and she didn’t breathe as her bare fingers made contact with the angry exposed skin, even as it knitted itself back together, and he found himself wanting her touch to linger just a bit longer. She so rarely touched anyone, even after having gained control of her skin, and knowing she was willingly touching him - why? He frowned. As reassurance? As a thank you? He shook off that thought and tried to refocus.
“You gonna touch Gambit next, chere?”
An involuntary snarl escaped from his lips as he jerked away from Rogue’s touch, the claws on one hand sliding smoothly out between his knuckles as he threw LeBeau, who had just rounded the corner, into the remnants of the wall behind them. Logan snarled, throwing the cocky-ass bastard a dirty look, pissed as fuckin’ hell that he hadn’t noticed Remy’s approach.
“What the fuck, Logan?” Rogue shoved his arm, claws still fully extended, away from the exposed skin of Remy’s neck, her eyes flashing with anger as she turned to face him. The brief calm of the previous moment was shattered by the Cajun’s sudden appearance and Logan was unexpectedly furious at the interruption.
He growled again, keeping his eyes on the swamp rat as his other hand kept him pinned against the wall, not minding one bit the grimace of pain that flitted across his smooth tanned face. Rogue once more rebelled, shoving at his muscled forearm trying to dislodge his grip on Remy, but this time Logan didn’t budge.
“Logan,” Rogue said with a hint of impatience in her voice. She was anxious too. He could smell it on the air. “Remy’s not the enemy. He’s on our team.”
Fuck. He knew she had a point, but something about LeBeau had Logan on edge the moment the slimy bastard had walked through the door of Xavier’s lookin’ to join the X-Men. Sure, Logan would admit as much as anyone that his powers were useful, but LeBeau’s prior associations made Logan suspicious. The man hadn’t done anything to prove himself, to prove his loyalty, and Logan wanted people he trusted on missions as fucked up as this one.
A smooth, cocksure grin appeared on the Cajun’s face as he focused on Rogue. “Dats right. Gambit is on your team, chere. Always on your team.”
Logan was unable to contain another threatening snarl, as he pressed the bastard even harder into the wall, the animal pleased at the look of pain lit across his features. “Back the fuck off, Cajun, or I swear to god I’ll shove these claws right through the jugular in that pretty little neck of yours.”
“Remy,” Rogue said impatiently ignoring Logan. “What happened to Kitty? Why are you here without her?”
Logan noted the fear creeping into Rogue’s voice, consuming her previous anger.
The Cajun shrugged as best he could with Logan’s huge fist shoved into his chest. “We got separated after an explosion. The comms went down. I think she made it back to the jet, but I don’ know, chere.”
After another quick sniff of the air, Logan was convinced that LeBeau was tellin’ the truth. Didn’t mean he had to like the fact that the slick bastard hadn’t screwed up. This time. The beast was taking a sick pleasure in causing the Cajun pain, and Logan didn’t disagree nearly enough to loosen his grip.
“Erghhh. Come on. Enough of this macho bullshit. Let’s go.” Rogue paused and looked between the two of them, her rising anger obvious as neither man made a move. “Now.”
Just then, the sound of more gunfire rang out, and Logan finally shook himself free of the animal’s anger enough to realize they were gonna be in a world of shit unless they moved their asses and got to the Blackbird now.
He released his grip on LeBeau and he couldn’t help but raise his lip in a snarl as he let the other man go. He noticed Rogue roll her eyes at his display as she waited for him to figure out which direction they needed to go.
Finally, his ears perked up at the howl of the wind. Blowing east. They were at the right end of the complex, and they were close to the rendezvous point. He ushered them forward down the ruined hallway, then he was easily slicing through the bolts on a heavy pair of doors, shoving them open. The wind was a blast of icy fire against their exposed skin as the outside air rushed over them.
A desolate expanse of white. Ice and snow everywhere, covering everything and the clearing...Empty. Empty white fucking shit snow where is the fucking jet? Logan jerked his head around the clearing eyes darting frantically for a sign of the Blackbird while his ears strained for a hint of its characteristic whining engines. Behind him, he heard Rogue’s breath hitch as she realized the world of shit they were in. The Cajun was blessedly silent, but Logan could still sense his own unease filtering through the freezing air.
Rogue spoke in a panicked voice from behind him as she took in the deep imprints in the snow from the jet’s landing gear. “But it was here. It was right here! Where the hell did they go?” She looked up to him, eyes wide and opaque, and something in Logan’s gut twisted.
He could only shake his head in response as the faint sound of more guns and men met his ears. “Fuck if I know. But we’ve gotta get outta here now if we’re gonna find out.”
Logan turned to make sure they were both following him as he led them away from the research facility and into the darkening pine and larch forest past the clearing. They needed to find cover, and quickly. The temperature was already well below freezing with the already setting sun, and the thick layer of snow at their feet was a dead giveaway for the direction they were headed. The leather of their uniforms wasn’t going to do shit to keep Rogue and the swamp rat from getting frostbite. They had maybe thirty minutes if they were lucky before any exposed skin started showing signs of damage.
And the clock was already ticking.