Logan left the professor to check on Ororo again. When he found that she was still asleep, he simply gave into the urge to crawl into bed with her and simply hold her close. He lay there, holding her against him, relishing the contact; the simple sensation of her skin upon his, the soft gentle breeze of her breath wafting across his face and the earthy rich scent that was uniquely hers filling his senses. He could easily have lain there the rest of the day, simply holding her; relishing the easy, intimate contact between them.
But he was pulled from those pleasant sensations by Xavier’s mental summons. Jennifer’s parents had arrived, and he wanted Logan to be present when the truth of their daughter’s death was broken to them. Sighing quietly, Logan gently left Ororo’s bed and headed downstairs.
Logan managed to make it to the professor’s study seconds before the door opened and Charles led them into the room, Jean following close behind them. He studied her parents for several moments as they sat and Jean brought them some tea.
Her mother was a smaller woman; barely five feet tall, with dark hair and eyes. Jennifer had inherited her looks and eyes from her mother; even the color of her hair had been the same as her mother’s. Those same eyes that she had given her daughter were now bloodshot and surrounded by dark shadows from grief and tears. But Logan had no doubt that, under normal circumstances, they shown with a unique spark and humor.
Her father was a taller, lean man. His light hair had begun its slow transition to gray, but his face still appeared quite young; despite the grief and pain that had etched their mark in the finer lines of that face. It was obvious to Logan that Jennifer had inherited her height and slender build from her father; not to mention the mutant gene that had caused her to attend Xavier’s school in the first place. Logan wondered if there was an unconscious sense of guilt inside of the man over that.
Logan watched as he helped his wife sit, concern and grief written plainly on both of their faces as they waited for Jean to bring them their tea.
“Devon, Carol, I wish to express my utmost and sincere sorrow over your loss. I had hoped to never be forced to meet with any parent under these circumstances; and I am truly, truly sorry that I must begin with Jennifer.”
Logan knew that the professor nearly always hesitated to use his gifts on others unless there was dire need. But there was no hesitation this time; Logan could feel the sympathy and empathy coming from the Professor as he sought to ease the grief of the couple.
Carol’s lip quivered slightly as she fought the tears, a soft sob escaping from her. Somehow, she managed to retain her control, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief as Devon squeezed her hand firmly.
Her voice was soft and weak; the tears she had shed had done more than ravage her face. They had also nearly stolen her ability to speak. “She was very happy here; whenever we spoke, all she could do was rave about this place. She loved this place; she loved everything about it; the teachers, the students, the classes. She told us that she’d recently begun a self defense class with Mr. Logan. She was so excited.” There was a sad ghost of a smile even as new tears formed; the memories bittersweet to recall but also impossible to ignore.
The professor smiled slightly, turning in his chair to wave Logan forward. “Yes, we added a self defense class to the roster this year. This is Mr. Logan, although the students simply call him Logan; he was teaching your daughter.”
Logan came forward to stand next to Charles, reaching out to shake their hands even as he wracked his brains for something to say. He had seen a great deal of grief, had most often been responsible for causing it in the first place. He had even faced his share of grieving relatives of comrades killed in action and the like. But grieving parents of a child not even full grown was a new one for him and he was unsure of how anything he could say would help.
Carol held onto his hand for several seconds, as her tear filled eyes met his. “She felt so…normal here. We can never thank you enough for giving her that.”
Logan squeezed her hand firmly even as he heard himself speak. “I enjoyed working with Jennifer. She enjoyed my class very much.”
Devon spoke up, his voice nearly as soft and weak as hers had been. “If I may ask, just what was she learning in your class?”
“How ta defend herself without using her powers. She was a fast learner; light, quick on her feet and she had a hellava spin kick. Managed ta knock me on my can a time or two.”
There was a moment of stunned silence as Logan’s words slowly registered with everyone. Despite their tears, the grieving couple chuckled softly.
Logan stepped back, hoping to fade into the background as Xavier began to speak with them once more.
“Your daughter was an exceptional student; very eager to learn and always ready to lend a helping hand to her fellow students. Although, there were moments when she was as normal as any teenager; she played her share of pranks and broke her share of rules. But she was well liked and she will be missed.”
Logan stood just behind Xavier, the conversation barely registering as Jean came up next to him.
“That was a wonderful thing you did, Logan.” Her voice was soft; loud enough to reach his sensitive ears but not strong enough to be heard by the others in the room.
Logan snorted softly. “It was a stupid thing ta say, Jean.”
She shrugged. “Maybe to you, but you gave them another memory, another side to their daughter that they’ve never seen before. They needed that.” She patted his arm gently.
Logan was unsure of how to respond and stood there silently.
Devon spoke up, drawing Logan back to the conversation as he spoke to the Professor. ”Professor Xavier, the police were very unclear, if I may ask, was anyone else injured in the accident?”
Xavier nodded. “One of our teachers, Ororo Munroe, who had taken the girls out received minor injuries. She is recovering in her room.”
Carol touched her tissue to her face once more, her expression tight and drawn, her skin growing wan and pale as reality pressed down on her once more. “Does anyone know what happened? How is it possible that 3 other people can walk away from a major accident that somehow killed our daughter? She was practically indestructible.”
Logan could see the confusion on their faces; something about what they had been told didn’t make sense to them. The police, in all likelihood had already talked to them about the accident; telling the parents about the other driver and his involvement.
But the police wouldn’t have been able to tell them just why their daughter died. And he was very sure that the doctors had been no help either; after all she had died at the scene. If her parents pushed for an autopsy, it was very likely that little or nothing would be found to answer the question of just why their daughter had died. The coroner would more than likely label the death from natural causes and call it a day.
But this had been an accident; if she was killed as a result of it, there must be some obvious trauma or medical reason. Jennifer was a young woman, in great health and supposedly invulnerable thanks to her mutant gifts. She should have been able to take the brunt of the accident and walk away unscathed; but she hadn’t and no one could explain why. So, that left them with only one option, one person to ask.
Charles sighed loudly. He leaned forward even as he touched his forehead. Logan recognized the nervous gesture and realized that despite his words to the contrary, Xavier was a bit hesitant to tell them the truth.
“There were unforeseen circumstances in this accident; circumstances that complicated the accident.”
Carol and Devon looked at each other, clearly not understanding. Devon turned back to the professor. “I’m sorry, but what do you mean there were complications? We thought this was a simple case of a drunk driver hitting someone else. What made this different?”
Xavier folded his hands, his posture changing a little as he began trying to answer their questions. “Years ago, I founded this school not only to provide a sanctuary for young mutants, but also to provide them with an environment conducive to using and controlling their abilities. For most of the students that come here, that is more than sufficient and they can leave here to live out fairly normal lives, their abilities well under control. But that is not always the case. Sometimes, a student is brought here because their abilities place them and those around them in very real danger; either because their abilities are far too powerful, too strange or too uncontrollable.”
Carol shook her head, thinking that the professor was speaking about Jennifer. “But Jennifer gained a great of control over her powers; that was why we brought her here. The last we knew she had no difficulty controlling them at will; the only reason we left her here was so that she could finish school with her friends.”
Xavier nodded. “Yes, she had. But I am not speaking of her. There is another student here who has a much different ability; one that she has little or no control over; largely due to the fact that it acts without her conscious control.” Xavier slowly explained about Rogue’s gift, beginning with the first boy that Rogue had kissed and ultimately put into a coma. However, he didn’t tell them the complete truth. He said nothing of the fact that Rogue not only absorbed a person’s life force, but their memories and personalities as well.
Logan watched as the horror crept over their faces; the scent of it emanating from them in cloying waves. He tensed as their horror grew and he began to smell the biting scent of anger underlying it.
“If she’s so dangerous, why is she allowed to interact so freely with the other students?” There was a touch of hysteria in Carol’s voice.
The shrill undertone grated on Logan’s sensitive ears and he mentally flinched.
“Because she too wishes to feel ‘normal’. She takes a great many precautions; she wears long sleeves and gloves, leaving only her face exposed. She avoids all physical contact with anyone if she is not covered and she has her own private room. In fact, she is very cautious about coming into contact with others; she has no wish to hurt anyone. The other students are aware of her abilities and they too are careful about coming into contact with her bare skin.”
Logan watched in silence as the realization began to come over them. He could see it in Devon’s face; the slow dawning that swept over him as he finally understood just what the professor was trying to tell them.
“Professor, are you trying to tell us that she was somehow involved in our daughter’s death?”
Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yes.” Slowly, he told them about the accident and the details that they had managed to piece together from Ororo’s account.
They listened in silence, reaching out to each other for comfort as the tears began to flow.
“Oh God! How could this happen? How could you let this happen?” Devon surged to his feet unable to contain his anger as he paced in front of his wife.
Next to him, Logan sensed Jean tensing up as well; the turbulent emotions were beginning to seep through her mental barriers.
“How could this girl be responsible? Why did you let her interact so freely with everyone else?”
Logan stepped forward, intending to stop the man’s ranting. He understood grief and the anger it caused; the driving need to lash out. But there was another side to this particular tragedy. A young girl who wouldn’t have harmed a fly was even then wallowing in her room, wrapped in a cloak of self pity and guilt.
He wanted them to remember that she too was a person; that she too had been harmed by this accident. The real criminal was the man who had caused the accident in the first place giving rise to the circumstances of their daughter’s death. Not the young girl who had unknowingly and unwillingly played a role in that death.
“The girl has a name; and she’s just as devastated by the accident as ya are by the loss.”
Devon looked up, startled by the interruption. “And I suppose you think that reminder is supposed to make it all better for us.”
Logan shook his head, crossing his arms as he met the taller man’s gaze. “No, I don’t. It’s just supposed to help ya keep in mind she’s not the one responsible for Jennifer’s death; no matter what ya tell yerself.”
Devon stepped closer his faced twisted by anger and rage. “Was she friends with Jennifer? Did she ever care about our daughter?”
Logan was silent, knowing that he wasn’t really expecting an answer. He’d seen enough of grieving people to know that Devon wasn’t even really interested in the question; the words were just a way for him to further lash out, venting his anger. If the girls had indeed been friends than of course he would have no way to rationalize the rage he felt towards Rogue; but if they had not, then somehow that lack of a close relationship would somehow justify his irrational response to the truth.
“Whether they were friends or not doesn’t change a damned thing.” He felt Jean touch his arm even as the Professor gently brushed his mind. He slapped away the professor’s mental touch even as he shrugged off Jean’s hand.
Jean spoke out loud. “Logan, that’s enough.”
Logan stepped away from her, turning on her as his own anger grew at the entire situation. He’d been against telling them the truth; had been adamant that her parents were better off not knowing. But they hadn’t listened.
“No, it ain’t. I understand their loss and I sympathize. I really do. But I ain’t gonna stand here and let them lash out at her for somethin’ that wasn’t her fault. It’s like yelling at a gun that killed the kid that was playing with it. It don’t make a damned bit of sense.”
Devon stepped even closer to Logan, their faces mere inches apart; shrugging off the restraining hands of his wife, his fists clenched in anger as he fired back. “Are you saying that somehow this was her fault?”
Logan crossed his arms, ignoring the man’s threatening posture. He wasn’t about to be drawn into a physical confrontation. “No, I ain’t. But I am tryin’ ta get ya ta see the truth. It wasn’t Rogue’s fault!”
Devon’s face contorted in rage as he shouted. “She killed our daughter!”
Logan drew in a deep breath to fire back when the smell hit him. It was dark, cloying, even sickly sweet. It slowly surrounded him, filling the room, growing and expanding to block out nearly every other smell he could sense.
Logan’s nostrils flared as it filled his senses, forcing him to acknowledge it. Deep inside, Logan felt the beast stir from its slumber, drawn to the surface by the smell. He felt his lips pulling back slowly as his animal instincts recognized the smell for the threat that it was.
Logan swallowed the growl that was being pulled from his lips and forced his lips to cover his canines once more. He pushed at the beast and for a moment was afraid that it wouldn’t retreat. But it did subside, reluctantly and Logan reasserted control over himself once more. He drew in a deep breath, the smell hitting him again and he felt the beast surge forward once more. He held on, barely; he needed to end this now before he lost complete control.
“Yeah, she did. But she’s not the reason yer daughter’s dead.” His harsh words cut through the air like a knife silencing everyone in the room. Logan knew that there was little or no chance of calming the man; he was still in shock over the loss. He knew that and he understood it. Using the silence as a means to escape before the beast surged forward once more, he walked to the door, grabbing the doorknob and wrenching it open before turning back to face the others.
Jean stood next to the professor, both of their faces were calm, almost serene. But he could smell their anger. He knew that there would be repercussions later for his outburst.
Carol appeared stunned, her hand still raised in an effort to restrain her husband. Almost as if she were unaware that she had raised it.
Devon’s face was enraged, his jaw clenched so hard in anger that Logan was amazed that he couldn’t hear his teeth grinding to dust.
“Ya want to be angry, fine be angry. Get mad as hell for what was done ta ya and what was taken from ya. Lord knows ya’ve got a right ta be. But make sure ya get angry at the real person responsible for yer daughter’s death.
“Rogue wasn’t drinking or drivin’ that other car; she didn’t choose to play a role in what happened. That choice was taken from her by the bastard who hit them. So if ya really want someone to blame, blame him; he’s the one who deserves your hatred. Not some teenage girl who’ll agonize over what happened just because of the way she was born.” With those parting words, he slammed the door shut behind him, the knob twisted and warped by his grip.
He stomped away from the room, the rage of the encounter simmering just below the surface. He felt the professor reaching out to him and growled softly as he mentally slapped the gesture away with a great deal of force. He slammed down his mental shields, cutting himself off from both Jean and Charles. He knew from experience that not only could they not contact him, they also would have a very difficult time locating him for awhile.
He continued walking through the mansion, avoiding the higher traffic areas as he made his way to the danger room. The animal inside him pushed at him, pacing just below the surface, fidgeting as his anger built.
He was not at all surprised by his reaction to what had just happened. He had been in complete control until the moment Devon had spoken up, asking if Rogue and Jennifer had been friends.
Where before there had been warring scents of fear, anger and grief, a new scent surfaced, obliterating the other scents as it overpowered them and filled his senses completely. It filled Logan’s nostrils with a sense of malice so vile, under other circumstances he would have thought nothing of running the man through at the slightest provocation.
Logan had smelled hatred on the man, rolling off of him in waves. And the emotion hadn’t seemed vague either. Logan had sensed multiple levels; hatred towards Rogue and what she had done to them; hatred towards Xavier and his school for what he had allowed to happen; hatred towards Logan for defending their daughter’s killer; there had even been a vague sense of hatred directed at mutants in general and thief often dangerous abilities. Devon was placing all the blame at the feet of the mutant condition, ignoring the role of the drunk.
Logan had felt the animal within come alive at that smell, threatened by the emotions behind it. And because the feral side of his nature had felt threatened, his more rational and logical side had also felt the same threat. Lashing out at them had been a warning more than anything else. To get them to back off until everyone had a chance to cool off and recover from the shock. But it hadn’t worked out that way and the resulting argument with Devon had only worked him into a darker rage. Now, Logan felt an overpowering need to go out to the nearest bar and start a rip roaring brawl.
The beast pushed closer, causing his skin to feel to tight and his bones to itch with the need for mindless violence. He flexed his hands, feeling his claws shift slightly in his forearms, waiting for the final skeletal command to snap into action. His lips curled back slightly, pulling away from his teeth as a soft growl built in his throat. There was no stopping the berserker haze that the beast within was pushing on him. Only pointless and wanton destruction would pacify it now.
He rounded a corner of the hallway, his nostrils flaring as a familiar scent reached him. The growl deepened as he focused his eyes further down the long straight hallway to see Remy standing there, leaning against a wall seemingly unconcerned about Logan’s slightly enraged state.
Remy stood there for several moments, dispassionately shuffling a deck of cards as Logan’s growl grew in length and volume.
Logan wondered why Remy was just standing there, seemingly unaffected by his growl. Then Remy raised his head and met Logan’s eyes; Logan found himself reassessing the younger man. He could see the acknowledgement there in his strange red eyes; Remy knew exactly just what he was facing in Logan’s present state; he just didn’t care.
Remy pushed away from the wall, carefully putting the deck of cards away as he stepped closer to Logan. The silence stretched between them, thin and brittle as they silently sized each other up.
Remy broke the silence first. “Remy was on his way to Stormy’s room when he got a call from da Professor. It would seem dat he could not find you and was worried dat in your present condition, you might hurt someone. So, Remy come to look for Logan and he finds da Wolverine instead. Why do you suppose dat is?”
Without thought, Logan tensed the muscles in his forearms and unsheathed his claws; the metallic sound ringing loudly in the empty hall. Logan relished the sharp sting as they cut through the flesh between his knuckles; their weight extending past his hands in a familiar and welcome way. His nostrils flared repeatedly as the faint, nearly indiscernible coppery tang of his blood reached them. The sensations provided an anchor and helped to focus his rage.
Remy simply watched Logan as the feral mutant stepped forward, raising the lethal weapons slightly, the threat unspoken but still obvious.
Logan was itching for a fight; he needed something to vent the bestial rage inside him. He had long since reached the edge of his control; the desire to destroy something, to pummel someone was teasing him relentlessly. But Remy was standing in his way, blocking him from reaching the danger room; the one place where he could release the whole of his rage without fear of hurting himself or anyone else.
Logan looked at him and growled. “Get outta my way Cajun.”
Remy continued on speaking as if he hadn’t heard him; his voice still calm and even. “Neither da Professor or Jean could find you. Dey said dat you upset Jennifer’s Mam and Pere. Remy knows dat Stormy is still injured and he does not wish to worry her; so Remy came to look for you. Remy does not want to tell da Professor and Stormy dat he could not find you eider.”
Logan growled again, raising his hands further, the extended claws shining dully in the light of the mansion. “She may be yer sister, but it won’t save yer ass if you don’t step aside. Don’t make me bust you up Gumbo.”
Remy studied him for several moments in silence, his strange red eyes never leaving Logan’s. After a moment, he stepped aside, waving Logan forward.
Logan sheathed his claws and walked past him issuing a final growl over his shoulder, as he descended into the depths of the mansion to work off some of the rage and frustration he was feeling.
Remy’s voice stopped him. “Remy tell everyone dat the danger room be off limits for a while. He also tell da Professor dat you are busy.”
Logan grunted and kept walking.
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