I must say I’m not completely comfortable with Logan’s plan. I know he is going to do it, with or without my consent, so I let him arrange meeting with Eric in here. Better Logan’s home turf than his. I have a feeling Eric is going to be more than willing to do what Logan asks. He’s greedy enough. After all, the price Logan’s willing to pay for his services is quite considerable. But I don’t think Logan has thought all the implications of it. Of what it will eventually mean. How big advantage his sacrifice will give to Eric.
Fuck. I’m so fucking scared. I can’t sit still. Feels like walls are closing in on me. I can’t breathe. My hands are trembling. It’s not every day I ask something like this. But I really don’t have a choice. Scott came by and tried to talk me out of this. I almost did it. I was so fucking close to go ask Xavier to call to Eric and cancel our meeting. Jean came by. Told me she had everything ready. Ten huge syringes, filled with pale blue liquid. Each one enough to knock out small herd of elephants. I can only hope that’s enough. Might as well start pushing it in.
Eric is sitting with us in the dining hall, and we have almost polite conversation going on, when Logan walks in. Well, I’m not completely sure if the way he’s moving can be described as walking. Jean told me about the cocktail she mixed for him, and it looks like it’s working. His eyes are dull and glazed over. Every move he makes is stilled and hesitant. Upon seeing Eric he however straightens his stance a bit, and instead of bluish hue from Jean’s medicine golden tint starts seeping in his eyes.
“Eric…” His greeting is slightly slurred, and for short moment it looks like he’s going to keel over, but he finds his balance again and drags his body to us, slumping to a chair next to mine, propping his elbows against the surface of the table and leaning his jaw to his knuckles.
“My dear boy! What on earth have you done to yourself?” Words are worried, but spoken with quite an amused tone.
“Fuck you, Bucket head… Do we have a deal or not?” My stomach is churning, and it’s hard to keep my head steady. I’m going to throw up soon. Nine syringes, totaling nearly one liter. One liter of most efficient numbing and paralyzing reagents known to mankind. Last syringe I left untouched. That’s reserved for Eric.
“We have a deal. I have my own grudges with lycans. After all, they took Victor from me, and good men are so hard to find these days…” Something in that sentence sounds so fucking hilarious, that I can’t control sudden burst of giggles. Giggles. Christ. Next thing I know I’m writhing and squirming on the floor. Chairs and tables scattered from around me to every possible direction. Eric is facing me, both palms hovering over my ribcage. I can’t move. Something inside of me is tearing apart. Breaking. It hurts. It fucking hurts… He’s stripping my bones bare. Every shard of metal he extracts cuts through flesh and tendons, severing veins and arteries, punching through organs. I’m already screaming, and worst is yet to come. We have to do this again soon.
I manage to squint open my eyes, and last vision before I pass out follows me to the darkness. Look on Eric’s face. Fucker is enjoying this far too much.
“That’s quite enough, Eric. Get over with it already.” Eric is taking far too long with his task. I happen to know he could be done with it in mere seconds. He has been kneeling next to Logan several minutes now. Logan is bleeding profusely from deep burrows on his chest. Erick glances at me, sighs and pulls out the last traces of adamantium from his body. Metal that has been covering Logan’s bones for at least twenty years now is floating above his chest. Huge, shimmering ball of silvery liquid.
“I thought it would be best to take it out from one place instead of tearing open every inch from him.” I know that’s not the real reason for Eric’s stalling, or at least it isn’t the only reason, but I let it slide. We have more important task ahead of us now. We have to get Logan to wake up. Wake up and bring lycan to the front of his mind. I’m not sure if he’s able to do it in his current condition. I’m not sure how safe it is to go and have a look. But I have to.
*Logan?*
*…*
*Logan?*
*…?…*
*Are you all right?*
*… Hurts…*
*Are you able to continue?*
*…Yeah… Get out… Now!*
Eric winks at me when I pull out the last syringe from my pocket.
“Do we still have a deal?” I croak. Something warm and salty dribbles to my chin. I can only hope I’m not drooling. Eric wipes it off and his fingers come off red. Blood.
“We have a deal. But I don’t have all day. It’s hard to keep it liquid. Hurry.” Fuck. Should have thought about this more. My whole body feels so fucking heavy and cold. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I roll on my hands and knees. Start stripping off my clothes. No reason to destroy them completely. Blood will wash off, but this is my favorite pair of jeans, and they won’t probably fit to my new form too good. There are hands helping me. Scott and Jean. Jean takes the syringe from me and jabs it to my thigh.
“You’ll need it.”
Transformation is relatively quick and painless. After it Eric takes his precious time bonding the adamantium back to my bones. It burns. But it doesn’t hurt as much as extraction did.
“I put it inside of your bone cells. They won’t break, but you should be able to transform freely after this. No need to dabble with it anymore.”
“What about our deal?” It’s hard to talk, and I have world-class lisp going on, but Eric understands my question.
“I have a feeling life is much more interesting when you have that metal in you. How else I’m going to control you, when we come face to face?” Eric stands up, tired old man, and walks out. Fuck. Last thing I needed. In debt for him.
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