Chapter 9: Sacrifice

“Logan.”

Storm whimpered his name as she strained against her bonds. Tears threatened to flow from her eyes as worry clutched at her heart. From what she’d been able to see, the injuries Logan had to endure to cut himself free had to be fatal.

Or they would be for someone not as talented as he.

For a moment, just a moment, Storm feared he was dead. Wolverine did not move, she could not see the rise and fall of his chest with breath. Ororo stared down at the man’s unmoving form and was unwittingly reminded of that morning.

Had it only been that morning? Could it have been so recently that she woke in Logan’s arms, his sated smile begging to be kissed? Storm tried to force the image away as pain crept into her heart. Would she never see that smile again?

Could they have come this far only to stumble at this final hurdle?

Storm clenched and released her hands, as though she needed to touch Logan. Her anger with him from the flight meant nothing. She didn’t care what he had said, she only wanted to see his eyes open…

Ignoring Sabertooth as he moved toward Logan, Storm struggled more forcefully against the metal strips that held her in place. She didn’t care if Sabertooth focused on her, not really. He didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the thought of losing Logan did.

As she grunted with effort, Ororo noticed Sabertooth moving toward her lover.

“No!” Storm demanded as Sabertooth growled at Logan’s unmoving form. “Leave him alone!”

On cue, Logan got to his knees in a flash of clean adamantium. His claws buried into the larger mutant’s soft belly, bringing an animalistic roar from his throat. Storm struggled still, wanting to be loose so she could help. Even if she was angry with him…

In a flash, however, the Brotherhood member grasped Logan’s smaller form, lifting him almost effortlessly into the air. Storm’s gaze caught Logan’s for the smallest of moments before he was thrown bodily through the hole Magneto had opened in the crown.

She could feel the vibrations of metal on metal as Logan rolled across the tip of the crown. Though the weather-manipulator was still unable to move, she could use her gifts to help Logan during this fight.

With a sting behind her eyes, Storm called on the wind. She surrounded the crown with a small buffer of air, in case Logan fell from the great height at which he was fighting. Metallic pinging and thudding told her of the fight above, even as Storm kept a tight lid on the elemental forces that wanted to run free.

“Storm.” It was Jean that finally broke the silence. “Open up. I can see him.”

Well, her friend was just damn brilliant.

Letting her mind open to Jean’s was dangerous for the telepath. Storm’s body conducted enough electricity to power Vegas for a week, which raced through her body with every beat of her heart. For Jean, it could mean being shocked when she stepped into Ororo’s consciousness. They had never attempted anything like this.

Storm didn’t care. Logan needed her help.

It was an out-of-body experience, watching jean watch Logan though Sabertooth’s eyes. Storm shifted the winds as needed, aiding her lover when it seemed he might fall. She cheered, inwardly, when he reclaimed the dog tags he thought forever lost. Ororo gasped when Logan nearly slid off of the crown, immediately moving the elements to grasp at him, cushion him.

He barely seemed to notice Storm’s interference, or he knew it was her and trusted that she wouldn’t let him fall.

“Come on, Logan.” Storm whispered to herself as her heart nearly stopped when Logan used his thick claws to keep from falling.

Ororo thrust a small burst of warm wind under his heavy body to stabilize him, breathing a sigh of relief when he landed softly on the edge of Liberty’s spike.

Rogue was screaming. Mechanical whirring stirred to life nearby, but Storm was focused completely on keeping Logan alive. Her heart rate stuttered as the claustrophobia that plagued her childhood roared to life. Having her arms pinned always did it, but Storm held on as long as she could.

As Wolverine and Sabertooth wrestled, however, she felt a slight panic overcome her. The connection with Jean broke, leaving Logan vulnerable. She heard him, distantly, clatter over the side of the crown, though she wasn’t sure where he had gone when Sabertooth jumped back into the small opening where she and her friends were being held.

“Logan.” Storm whispered, trying desperately to breathe. Mama. No. Mama, I’m scared.

“Storm…” It was Scott, attempting to warn her. “Storm, breathe. You’re ok. We’re right here.”

“It’s us, Ororo.” Jean chimed in as gently as she could. “Breathe, honey. Breathe Storm.”

“Logan.” She whimpered again, searching for him as she struggled against her bonds. “Logan.”

It was Sabertooth, however, that approached. He filled her vision, all fearsome growling and unkempt hair. She wasn’t sure why this mutant was suddenly so obsessed with her, but there was nothing Storm could do to get away. She heard both Jean and Scott attempt to see what was happening. Neither of them could much.

Jean’s mind was occupied. Storm hoped it was because she needed to help Logan.

Sabertooth’s massive, clawed hand came up to Ororo. As she breathed through her claustrophobic panic, the other mutant trailed one dirty finger down her cheek. Storm simply stared at him, not processing the fear of him over the panic of being pinned, helpless.

“You owe me a scream.”

Storm found some of her spine as she replied.

“Never.”

Sabertooth wrapped his hand about her throat again, his fingers gripping as they had at the train station. Storm merely stared at him, wondering if Jean could protect herself and Scott if Storm actually did decide to use the copper conductor to her advantage.

She needn’t have worried, however. A moment later, there was a heavy thud from behind Sabertooth.

As the massive mutant turned, Storm realized that Logan had just jumped into the room. Her heartrate dropped so swiftly with relief that, had she been standing under her own steam, Storm was sure she might have fainted.

“Hey, bub.” Logan said in a tired tone. “I’m not finished with you, yet.”

Storm offered him a smirk as he said Jean’s name.

“Scott, when I tell you, open your eyes.”

Scott’s response was predictable. “No.”

Jean whispered. “Trust me.”

 “You drop something?” Logan asked the other feral mutant. In his hands sat Scott’s visor.

Storm closed her eyes to protect herself, wincing when a red-hot beam shot past her face. The copper chamber fell away as Scott’s power punched a hole through it, with Sabertooth acting as a buffer. Storm heard his scream fade as he fell.

A beat later, following a flash of adamantium, Storm’s arms were free.

She collapsed onto the floor, waving Logan off. He seemed unsure for a moment, then left her to recover. Jean was pulled from the wall next, and her friend was at her side in an instant. From Jean’s powerful mind, Storm was given a feeling of peace, of contentment that could drive away the fear.

Once Scott was released and his visor back on, Storm was able to stand on her own.

The four X-Men gathered at the hole in the ceiling, staring in a sort of muted horror at the device Magneto had created to turn humans into mutants. It was a stunning piece of work, not that it was surprising. Magneto always had a way with metal.

Inside of the spinning rings, however, there was a fourteen year old girl in desperate need of help.

“We have to get her out of there.” Logan insisted, looking at Scott. “Cyclops, can you hit it?”

Scott stepped up immediately, his hand going to the dial on his visor. Storm stared up at the little girl inside of the machine, remembering extending her hand to Marie on that cold, Canadian day.

“The rings are moving too fast.” Scott insisted.

“Just shoot it!” Wolverine roared.

“I’ll kill her!” Cyclops returned.

What were they going to do?

White light emitted from the device, stretching like the early fingers of dawn over the water. Once that light reached the opposite island, the humans there were doomed to die.

They had to do something.

“Storm?” Scott’s call of her name brought Ororo back to earth. “Can you fly me up there?”

“I can’t control it like that.” Storm insisted, hating herself for saying it. “I can’t just aim it.”

“You can make thunderstorms in your hand.”

At Logan’s words, Storm nodded. “But lifting a 200lbs man without throwing him over the torch is almost impossible.”

Wolverine nodded. “Then let me go. At least, if I miss, you can still blast the damn thing.”

Scott shot a look at Storm. Ororo knew, at least, if she dropped Logan he had a chance to survive. There would be no saving Scott. And, if they couldn’t save Rogue from the device, at least they could stop millions of people from following Senator Kelly’s gruesome death.

It was a decision no one wanted to make. The idea of sacrificing an innocent girl to a madman’s plot was abhorrent.

What choice was there?

“Jean, help me keep him steady.” Storm said with a sigh.

Her friend nodded once, bracing herself for the feat of holding a grown man steady amid gale-force wind.

Before she could call on her gift, however, Storm felt a strong arm around her waist. Logan hauled her to his chest, capturing her mouth for a quick, fierce kiss. Storm gave herself over to it, kissing Logan back as ardently as she could. Her gloved hands gripped at his uniform, holding him tightly. This wasn’t a goodbye and Ororo knew it. This was an offer of what was waiting when he finished the mission. Somehow, Ororo knew Logan got the message.

He smiled against her mouth as he released her.

Storm kept her gaze on his, nodding slowly. They could do this.

When Logan glanced at Scott, he smirked. “Needed the luck.”

The weather goddess rolled her eyes. “Hold on to something.”

~**~

Watching the girls work would never get old.

Scott admired the awe-inspiring gifts honed by his fiancée and best friend as they lifted the 350lbs mutant into the air. Sweat beaded on both brows, controlling the wind, keeping the man from flying over the edge to land in the water below.

If they didn’t do this, if they failed in this one area, then they would be responsible for allowing Magneto to kill so many people. They couldn’t fail, not now.

Scott held his breath as Logan was lifted into the air. He wondered how the other man could even breathe while he was trapped by the hurricane-force winds keeping him aloft. Storm took a step back, bracing as her frost-tinged eyes concentrated on Logan’s flailing body.

Jean was just as intense, with one hand thrust before her in a clawed fashion. She used her hands to concentrate her mutant ability. Jean was holding Logan in the wind, keeping him from being thrust out of the wind tunnel by one errant current.

It was something wonderful to behold.

Scott released the breath he wasn’t aware of holding as Logan landed on the top of Magneto’s machine. Almost as one, Jean and Storm broke connection.

Storm collapsed onto her knees while Jean braced one hand on the copper wall.

None of them took their eyes from the three mutants on the torch.

Magneto had moved into play, stopping Logan as he jumped into the machine. Scott couldn’t see with any sure accuracy through the ruby-tinge of his visor, but it seemed as though Magneto had used Logan’s metal skeleton against him. He couldn’t move, even as Rogue screamed. As weakened as their old friend might be, it wasn’t hard for Erik to use his power when there was so much metal inside of Logan.

Cyclops knew he had to do something, as the white-hot cloud of radiation stretched toward the island of Manhattan.

He raised one hand to the dial of his visor, taking a deep breath. He would ask forgiveness every day of his life if this ended wrong.

Scott prayed it wouldn’t end wrong.

“Scott, wait!” Jean demanded.

He exhaled sharply. Should he wait or take the shot? What did he shoot? The rings that moved too swiftly? The man he had once counted as a father figure? The base of the torch, bid goodbye to girl, friend, and foe?

Charles. What is the right choice?

The cloud grew more dense, moving so swiftly across the water that Scott knew he had only seconds before the damage was done.

I can’t fail.

“Jean, I have to!” Scott shouted over the din of rising voices and metallic whirring.

“Just wait!” Jean screamed back.

Scott only wished he had her faith.

He dialed down the beam to almost a precision laser, hoping against hope that his aim would be true. How could he make this decision? Was it even his decision to make?

There was no way he could look at Ororo as he made his choice. She was on her knees, panting from the loss of energy she had just exerted. If something happened to Logan, he might hate himself forever. They had to think about the greater good, though. Ororo would understand. Someday.

Scott ignored his fiancée’s entreating hand, begging him for a moment more. They didn’t have another moment. Their job was to be X-Men, to protect humanity and mutants from one another.

This was his job. This was Cyclops’ decision. He didn’t want anyone else

“I have a shot.” Scott said with certain finality. “I’m taking it.”

Without another warning, Cyclops released the optic beam.

With almost surgical precision, the beam hit Magneto in the right shoulder, startling him so that he was forced to release Wolverine. Almost instantly, the feral mutant stretched out his claws to stop the spinning rings. Jean raised both hands. Wind erupted all around them.

As Magneto’s device shattered, Storm and Jean did their best to contain the flying bits of metal and plastic. Both women released strained grunts as they kept the damage from flying to the water or taking out the Coast Guard boats that were already inbound.

Metal fell to the island below as Ororo collapsed. Scott caught Jean as her exhausted body also tried to give out. She held on to him tightly, even a Scott tried to locate the other two mutants in his group. He couldn’t see Logan or Rogue, not with the light suddenly so dim.

“Logan?” Scott called out. “Marie?”

“Go.” Jean insisted as Scott settled her against the copper wall. “I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“You sure?” Scott asked, glancing back to the decimated torch. “We need to move. Soon.”

It was then that they heard a distinctly young voice crying out. Scott turned sharply, searching through his ruby-red gaze to locate the girl he’d last seen locked in a malicious machine at the behest of a madman.

“Logan!” Marie was crying. “Logan, wake up! Wake up!”

“No.” Ororo’s voice trembled as she scrambled to her feet. Scott made a desperate grab to stop her, but only scarcely missed getting a handful of her cape as she rushed by on unsteady feet.

“Storm! Wait!” Cyclops called out, turning back to Jean as she stumbled. “Damn it.”

“Go.” His future wife ordered. “Before she hurts herself.”

His boots slid on the blood-slicked metal beneath his feet as Cyclops turned to chase his friend. It was a short distance when traversed by stairs. From the crown of Lady Liberty to the torch, Scott chased the wintry mutant that was his friend.

Weak as she appeared, there was  no stopping the diminutive African woman when she was on a mission.

They were careful to step over the metal fragments that littered the base of the torch’s ‘flame’, and Storm didn’t even bother to slow as she stepped around Erik’s prone body. Scott did stop, checking to be sure he hadn’t killed the older man.

Erik lay on his back, stunned from the precision laser strike as Scott had hoped. He wasn’t gravely injured, but he wouldn’t be moving any time soon. The US Military could take care of him from this point on. That was a score for the good guys, Cyclops thought.

One bad guy in the bag.

~**~

Storm tore her cape away in one motion, allowing it to flutter away over the water as she found a good spot to climb. She didn’t care what happened with Magneto, her only goal was to be sure Logan hadn’t been hurt too badly.

Finding hand and foot holds the way Scott taught her one summer at Red Rock, Storm lifted her body onto the top of the torch. Her hands were laced with cuts as she hauled herself over the edge, cuts she would deal with later.

Rogue stood still inside the machine, staring down at Logan too terrified to touch him. A cursory glance told Ororo that her young charge was relatively unharmed, which was odd considering what she had just been through.

The only oddity Storm could immediately see was a strange white stripe in the front of her hair.

“He won’t wake up.” Rogue stammered as Storm got to her feet unsteadily. “I think he used my power.”

Fear, stark and unyielding, flooded Ororo’s heart. She turned, rushing the two steps around the perimeter of the machine to where Logan lay on the floor. He was still and quiet, his chest barely moving with breath.

“Logan.” Ororo choked on his name, falling to her knees and catching her hair with one hand so she could press an ear to his chest. She could hear nothing. “Logan. Wake up.”

Her voice was strained, weak, and filled with fear. Ororo sat back up, staring at her lover as she catalogued the wounds too numerous to recall. There were scrapes and bruises on his handsome face, and his uniform was ripped to shreds.

Six deep punctures in his chest, however, brought the harsh realization roaring to life. If he had given Rogue his ability to heal, anything that hadn't been able to fully heal in the last few minutes would tear back open. Though he could have healed the wounds made by his own adamantium with his healing factor in full swing, was it possible to do so when he had given that gift to someone else?

Had the Wolverine just sacrificed his own life for that of his young ward?

That thought brought clouds crashing together in the sky. Ororo didn't know what was happening between them...that didn't mean losing him wouldn't devastate her on a primal level. He couldn't die. He simply wasn't allowed to.

“Logan. No.” Ororo begged, reaching out to touch his face. “Logan?”

He stirred, just barely. Ororo leaned closer as a rumble in his chest betrayed that he wanted to speak. Her lover did not move, but Storm distinctly heard him whisper her name and Marie’s.

As the Blackbird roared above them, Storm smiled. Jean was lowering the ramp so they could board directly from the torch.

“It’s ok, Logan.” Storm kissed his cheek again. “We’re going home.”