“Would somebody explain to me what the fuck is going on in here?” I just came back. Marie is not here. She’s gone. My room was empty. At first I thought she was at the boathouse, we have been making plans to turn it to our home. She wasn’t there. I searched through this whole fucking palace, and there’s no trace of her. She’s gone. Like she never existed. And now everybody in Xavier’s study stares at me. Xavier with knowing look on his face. Jean, Scott and Ororo confused.
“What do you mean?” Scott asks. I don’t care about him. Xavier knows something. I walk up to him.
“Where is she?” Before he has time to answer, Jean pipes in.
“Whom are you talking about?”
“You know it, Jean. Where’s Marie?” I don’t turn my gaze from Professor, but I can sense confusion and curiosity level rising behind me.
“Who?” Ororo asks. I turn around.
“Don’t fucking play games with me! Marie! Rogue! My fucking wife, for Christ sakes!” I’m facing people with blank look on their faces. They have no clue what I’m talking about.
“You have no wife, Logan.”
Holy Christ! What a wake-up call. At first I thought there was something wrong with the Blackbird, but soon I realized it was Logan. He was literally screaming his lungs out on a seat next to mine. He was still sleeping. I know what happens when you wake him up from a nightmare, but what ever it was he was dreaming about, was something so horrible that I had to do something. I moved behind his seat and kicked it hard enough to drop him to the floor. No claws this time. He woke up sobbing and choking, and now I have my arms full of trembling Logan. He’s so terrified he’s unable to form coherent sentence, but one name keeps popping up constantly. Marie. And I’m starting to have a bad feeling about this.
What ever Logan has, call it instinct, gut feeling, sixth sense… Names are many, but it hasn’t been wrong too many times. In fact, I can’t remember a time he had been wrong about something when his gut is telling something’s wrong. And now it’s telling him Marie’s gone. All those tiny nerve endings screaming to him to get the hell out of here and after her. He’s pacing outside, wringing his hands, smoking… Yes. Smoking. No cigar. Pack of cigarettes. I have no idea where he found those, but he has been out there ten minutes, and I can see at least ten stubs on the snow around him. And Jean isn’t picking up the phone. I cut the line and try Hank’s number. It isn’t working. Only a recording answers to Xavier’s personal line. What the hell is going on? I try the general line to the mansion. No answer. At least somebody should answer to it. Anybody. Finally, after couple of minutes, recorded voice appears to the line, and tells me I have reached Xavier’s School For The Gifted Youngsters. Nobody’s available right now. If I would be so kind and leave a message. We will contact you as soon as possible.
We don’t have the files yet, but when Scott walks to me, I can see from his face that we are not going to try to retrieve them now.
“I tried to every number I found from the book. Even some student’s personal cells. Nobody answered. Nobody. All I got was few answering machines, but that was it. I couldn’t even reach Hank. His phone was disconnected.”
“What the fuck are we waiting for? Lets go!” I grab his arm and drag him to the Blackbird with me. He struggles a bit, but settles down to his seat.
“Lets think about this situation first. What can cause something like this?” I fucking hate him. How the hell he can be so calm and level headed in a situation like this?
“Has to be something big. Lines are working, but looks like there’s nobody to answer the phone.”
“Could we stop this fucking jabbering and go have a look?” I have to learn how to fly this piece of crap someday. Scott is taking awfully long powering this up. Muttering to himself all the while.
“Hey! Don’t you and Jean have that nifty connection thing? Couldn’t you use that to find out what is going on?” I suddenly remember. Scott grimaces slightly and shakes his head.
“She cut it little over a year ago. She was having some issues, and she wasn’t comfortable letting me know about them…” My turn to grimace. I happen to know what those issues were.
“We talked about re-establishing it, but never had the time to do it.”
“Can’t you make this rust bucket go any faster?” Our ETA according to Blackbird’s computer will be fifteen minutes. That’s fifteen fucking long minutes.
“Well, maybe you could go out and give this a little push! Maybe that would help!” Lame. Fucking lame, but we’re both laughing. Scott is fiddling with the scanners. Monitor lands from the roof. I can see the mansion. Blackbird is connected to surveillance cameras all around the gardens. At least from outside everything looks peaceful. Big part of the mansion is dark, but there are lights on some windows. Everything looks so fucking normal. And in the same time so fucking wrong. I just can’t put my finger on it. It’s itching right behind my eyes, but won’t come out. Then Scott notices it.
“Here! See? That door is never open!” On the roof. Thick steel door, leading to attic. I have seen locks and bolts that hold it down. They’re huge. Now it’s open, ripped off from its hinges.
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