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Chapter 26

Acts of Vengeance, part 6

******************************


~*~The Danger Room - dream sequence~*~

The session started off well enough. Charles was sitting in the control room programming the simulations for the day’s exercise. The Control Room sat high above the Danger Room floor and the large windows gave him an unobstructed view of the entire room below. Supervision of all exercises played out in the Danger Room was essential; there was always the potential for someone to get seriously injured, so the failsafe device was on at all times, but it was also Xavier’s rule that in order to use the Danger Room there had to be someone up above actually monitoring the situation, just in case.

A door below him slid open with a hiss and Jean and Scott entered the Danger Room followed by Ororo and Logan. They were all dressed in battle exercise uniforms. Each uniform was designed as one piece and made of leather, padded slightly in certain areas to give added protection while students and X-Men alike learned and practiced their fighting techniques.

Scott’s uniform was pure black contrasting with Storm’s white and silver. Jean wore one that was mostly green, which set off her red hair and Wolverine had been given one that was orange and black and Jean thought to herself that maybe they should call him ‘Tiger’ instead of ‘Wolverine’. She smiled at the thought, but kept it to herself. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her sense of humor.

* * *


Charles recognized this particular image. It had been Logan’s second experience in the Danger Room when he was still a newcomer to the institute and they hadn’t known a whole lot about him then. As he thought about the events that had taken place during this particular session, he knew almost immediately the similarities between what was about to happen and what had happened just the other day on a quiet stretch of road.

* * *


"You ready for another go?" Scott asked Logan.

"Sure," Logan muttered as he scanned the room.

"This is gonna be a little different than dodging obstacles and projectiles like the last time," Scott informed him.

"Oh yeah?" Logan replied as he slowly moved away from the others. His head turned in short abrupt movements, sniffing the air and his eyes darted around the room; he was tense, alert and ready for action. The others watched him curiously as he got himself acquainted with the sights and the lights and the smells inside the room.

Scott had brought Wolverine to the Danger Room the week before, to put him through the basic course that all the students are run through to get an idea of their capabilities. He did quite well; not surprising considering his background. As he moved toward the center of the room, Logan noted the locations of the different types of weapons that were clamped to the walls and ceiling all around the room. He noticed hand and foot holds along two of the walls that began about four feet above the floor and went all the way up to the ceiling.

When Charles finished programming the system he moved to the window. Looking down to the room below he could see his three X-Men standing in their usual spot off to the right, waiting for the program to begin. He could also see Logan, who'd moved to the center of the room. Charles pushed a button which activated the two-way speaker system, it emitted a low hum that only Wolverine picked up on and he turned to look up at the professor even before he spoke.

"The program will begin in a moment. We’ll start slow. Storm, Cyclops and Jean will take turns first so Wolverine can see your capabilities," he instructed and Logan turned to look at the three others as they nodded in agreement.

"You may want to come back over here," Cyclops suggested to him and Logan walked back to where the others stood. Turning to Scott, he raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Cyclops, huh?" he teased, referring to Scott’s codename. Scott turned his head to look down at the shorter man and gave him a sly smirk, but chose not to reply.

"Ready when you are, Professor," Cyclops announced to the man in the booth. "I’ll go first." He stepped forward, putting some distance between himself and the others. He stood alert and ready and Wolverine watched him closely before turning to glance at the others. Jean caught his gaze and she smiled at him, then he turned back around. Apparently this was going to be a solo demonstration.

Logan looked around the room wondering where all the flying objects would come from, then he looked at Cyclops who was still looking straight ahead. Logan could sense Scott’s alertness and knew something was about to happen. He looked out across the great expanse of the room; it was empty and silent.

All of a sudden, without warning of any kind, a large opponent dressed in heavy armor appeared in the center of the room. Without hesitation it let out a war cry and ran as fast as it could toward the small group. Wolverine, taken by surprise, quickly widened his stance; bending at the knees slightly, he brought his fists up in front of him and a loud low growl came from his throat. The sound of Wolverine’s growl pulled Scott’s attention away from his assailant for a moment, then he quickly brought his hand up to activate his visor. It released a bright red beam of energy that hit the opponent square in the chest, knocking him off his feet and slamming him into the wall.

The explosive beam surprised Wolverine who cringed; ducking his head, he quickly side-stepped a short distance away. He spun around again just in time to see the large holographic opponent crumple to the ground on the far side of the room. With all his senses on alert now, Logan became very agitated and his heart pounded in his chest causing adrenaline to surge through his body.

"What the hell was that?!" he demanded. His muscles tensed and his movements became stiff as he held back the energy pulsating through his body.

"That… was an optic blast," Cyclops informed him smugly.

"Not that… THAT!" Logan yelled at him, gesturing angrily at the unconscious man lying on the floor.

"That’s our target," Scott answered matter-of-factly.

"Really," Logan snarled, stepping in front of Scott so he could glare at him face to face. "Where’d he come from?" Logan hissed through clenched teeth. Storm, realizing Wolverine was reacting to what he perceived as a set-up, an ambush, brushed past Jean and moved quickly to position herself between the two men.

"Wait a minute!" she said, trying to draw their attention. She certainly didn’t want to see this confrontation escalate, but the two men didn’t seem to hear her. They remained nose to nose, glaring at each other.

"What’s your problem?!" Scott demanded in an equally aggressive tone. He stood almost a foot taller than Wolverine and he stepped closer now, trying to use his height to intimidate the shorter man. He was a little surprised when Logan maintained eye contact and didn’t back down.

* * *

Charles watched the dream unfold - feeling apart from it and yet, a part of it - in much the same way that Logan must be experiencing the image. Charles could also sense the thoughts and feelings of those involved in the dream sequence.

* * *

"Wait!" Storm snapped at Scott and he looked at her. Seeing her no-nonsense expression he relaxed his posture and took a step back. When she was satisfied that Scott had himself under control Ororo turned to Wolverine. "Logan," she began, keeping her voice calm and instructional, "it’s a hologram. It’s a computer generated image," she said, pointing to the Control Room and he turned to look where she was pointing. Charles could hear the exchange through the intercom system and moved to the window to see what was happening.

"Storm? Is everything all right?" he asked curiously. She nodded quickly, but Wolverine ignored his question and turned back to Storm.

"How am I supposed to fight a computer image?" he asked, and Storm could now hear the obvious change in his voice, it was very low… and different somehow.

"What did you think? That we were gonna be fighting real people in here?" Cyclops asked him with a bit of sarcasm.

"At least a real person… you can smell or hear them if they come up behind you!" Wolverine shot back.

"Relax! Both of you!" Storm commanded. She was still new to the team also, but she had an air about her that just made people listen and pay attention. She turned her attention back to the Control Room. "Professor, can we program the computer to add a physical scent to our opponents and, perhaps, a more realistic entry?"

"Of course," Charles answered with a mild tone of regret. "My apologies, Logan. I overlooked that particular detail when I programmed the simulation. Give me a moment to see what I can do."

"Thank you, Professor," Storm replied, then she turned to Scott. "He can’t keep his skills sharp if there’s nothing there to hone them on," she explained briefly. Now realizing what it was that had Wolverine on edge, Scott sighed.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…" Scott tried and Logan nodded in dismissal and the matter was dropped. Scott now understood Wolverine’s dilemma; by his very nature Logan had come to rely on his hypersensitive senses for survival and when there was nothing there to stimulate those senses Logan felt like a sitting duck. Cyclops could understand that, for he depended as much on his visor. Sure, he could live without it, but he would have to keep his eyes closed all the time... and it’s difficult to get a bead on a target you can’t see. ‘Although,' Scott thought, ‘Wolverine’s got some pretty quick reflexes.’ Even without any prior warning, he'd postured into a fighting stance seconds before Scott’s brain even registered the opponent’s presence.

Cyclops stood there looking at the man standing next to him. Logan was pumped up, his breathing was deep and heavy in response to, what Scott figured had to be a tidal wave of adrenaline pumping through his veins. There were beads of sweat across his forehead and his face and neck glistened with it as his body tried to cool itself. The heat his body was producing due to his profusely aroused state radiated from him. Summers quickly assessed Wolverine’s responses to a combat situation in much the same way a general would assess the best ways to use a 'new weapon' in his arsenal for the best tactical results.

The women on the other hand, standing a few feet behind them, were observing Wolverine with alot more focus on his psychological state. Jean tapped Scott and Ororo on their brains, opening a telepathic link so they could converse mentally without drawing Wolverine’s attention.

‘Is he okay, Scott?’ she thought to him.

‘Sure, he’s just pumped,’ he answered silently.

‘He growled again. It sends chills down my spine.’

‘Yeah, that caught me off guard, too,’ he told her.

‘Pretty amazing, isn’t it?’ Storm seriously mused. ‘He hasn’t even had his turn yet and we are all intimidated by him already.’

‘Be careful,’ Charles interjected from above, ‘he may also be able to smell your fear.’ He had been monitoring his students telepathically and easily picked up on their psychic conversation. ‘We’re almost ready.’

The three X-Men turned their heads up toward the Control Room, hoping to see Charles waving at them as if to say ‘just kidding’. He wasn’t. They exchanged looks with one another, then looked at Logan, who wasn’t paying them any attention at all.

"Jean, you’re next," Scott announced aloud. Logan turned to look at the redhead, eyeing her suspiciously. She tried to ignore his scrutiny, but she felt like a bug under glass; he had an intense stare that let you know, without a doubt, that he was watching you. Then Xavier's voice filled the room as it boomed from the speakers above them.

"The system has been reconfigured. I’m not sure what it’ll give you Logan, but we’ll keep working on it." Logan nodded, then turned his gaze back across the room. "Here we go," Charles warned them, then pushed a button. The system came to life with the customary whirring sound and blinking lights as it scanned the parameters of its new programming.Jean stepped forward and waited as all four students scanned the room.

Suddenly, Wolverine crouched low and his head snapped to the left. Everyone noticed and quickly looked in the same direction just as another opponent materialized on that side of the room. ‘How’d he know?’ Scott wondered.

This hologram was also eight feet tall and covered in armor, but he didn’t charge at them. He carried a long metal pole and, as he casually stepped toward them, he twirled the staff about his head and around his body. He strolled toward them laughing, taunting the X-Men with a low patronizing chuckle. He carried himself with an over-confident arrogance… as if he thought he was the best.

"Mmm," grumbled Wolverine as a deadly smirk rolled his lips back from his teeth. "Let me take this one," he said, more than eager to teach this jolly giant a lesson.

"No, Logan, he’s mine," Jean informed him. She brought her hands up in front of her, fingers extended and palms down. Logan looked at her furrowing his brow, then he looked back at the armored hologram. All of a sudden, the metal staff the man was swinging about was yanked from his hands by something unseen and flew across the room. Wolverine cocked his head to one side and watched as the large opponent stopped, grunting in surprise.

"Did you do that?" Logan asked Jean, his voice low and thick.

"Yep," she answered casually.

"Can you do anything else? ‘Cuz he’s going for it," he informed her. Then the giant turned just as Wolverine said and marched across the room toward his fallen staff.

"No he’s not," Jean countered and the opponent was slowly lifted off his feet and held suspended in the air, his feet about four feet off the floor. Logan lifted an eyebrow in amusement as the hologram howled in exasperation, kicking his legs and swinging his arms as he tried to dislodge the unseen force. Then, with a psychic push Jean slammed him hard against the wall. He lay crumpled in a heap on the floor next to the one that Cyclops had disposed of.

"Two down," Cyclops remarked in that smug tone that rubbed Wolverine's fur the wrong way. Placing his hands on his hips he gave a nod, which obviously showed that he was proud of his team so far. Wolverine glanced at him in disgust, then relaxed his posture and stood up straight. Confused, he looked at the two incapacitated foes lying on the floor on the other side of the room. They'd told him they came to this room to practice their skills in battle situations. Logan looked at Scott, then back at the heap on the floor. His experiences in battle were quite different from this. Hand-to-hand, fisticuffs, blades, grenades, traps… karate, jujitsu, tae kwon do… spy missions, covert operations, hot zone extractions, assassinations, executions, torture, and… betrayal.

"That’s it?" he scowled at the others. "That’s it? That’s all?" His voice held a menacing tone. "I thought this was a battle exercise!" He looked at each of them in turn. "Where’s the battle?!" he demanded to know. Storm could tell he was geared up for a fight, he really seemed to want to get in there and get his hands dirty. She stepped toward him hoping to settle him down.

"Logan…" that was all she got the chance to say. He spun on her and she stopped abruptly, the look in his eyes shocking her to stillness. His face had contorted into a vicious sneer and his eyes were wild. ‘Bright Goddess, he looks almost… feral,’ she thought to herself. Then Storm noticed that although he appeared to be standing upright, he wasn’t really. His shoulders were rounded forward and he held his head low with his neck extended; his thick coarse hair which formed large pointed tufts on the sides of his head gave the impression that he had large animal-like ears; he had stiff hair growing on his face, despite how many times he’s tried to shave it off. ‘Muttonchops’ is the term she believed and it grew thick around his ears, gradually thinning along his jaw and stopping at the corners of his mouth and all of these distinguishable features only added to his feral expression and made her think of a werewolf. No, not a werewolf... a wolverine. ‘Exactly.’

"Wolverine…" Storm addressed him. ‘I get it now,’ she thought silently. Ororo hoped that she could make a connection with that part of Logan that obviously still existed in a primal, untamed state. ‘He is the one I need to reach,’ she told herself. "Do you hunger for battle?" she asked. "Do you really thirst for blood?"

Wolverine licked his lips and sneered an approximation of what, for him, would be a grin. His chest heaved and with every breath ‘the wolverine’ became stronger and his entire body trembled under the force he was holding back. Logan had lost his control; his inner beast assuming command of the body and the mind. He was almost primal.

"Storm?" The professor’s voice came from above.

"Professor, I think Wolverine’s waited long enough. I believe it is his turn now," she said. The tone of her voice was unusual and made Charles pause. Ororo had a strong, elegant yet commanding voice and it had a calming effect on most, but in this particular instance Charles was sure he heard the unmistakable hint of a warning. He opened his mind to his students once more, hoping to get a clearer picture of what was happening below. As he reached out toward Storm he gasped, throwing one hand to his forehead and the other gripping the arm of his chair. Ororo’s close proximity to Logan interfered with his connection to her and Wolverine’s powerfully wild, bloodthirsty psyche had nearly overpowered him. The professor had never felt such a fury.

‘Are you sure, Ororo?’ he asked her privately. ‘I’m picking up…’

‘Yes, Charles. We have no choice, we must let him go. Now,’ she replied as she watched Wolverine closely. She noticed that he was opening and closing his fists almost spasmodically and he seemed totally unaware of it; driven by primordial instincts he obviously couldn’t control. Charles had to agree. His fingers moved quickly across the computer keys and switches. The rage he'd felt emanating from Wolverine was extremely powerful and he knew would not be relinquished in a thirty second battle against one hologram. He now reprogrammed the system for random multiple targets. ‘After all,’ he reminded himself, ‘if Logan becomes overwhelmed we can always stop the program.’ Below him on the Danger Room floor, Storm still held Wolverine’s deadly gaze.

"I understand, my friend," she told him. "A powerful storm builds inside of you and you are helpless to stop it." No more than a gentle breeze can keep from becoming a destructive hurricane when fronts collide, Ororo knew that Logan needed to release the raging tornado growing inside him, before the pressure building up had no choice but to find release in a deadly explosion.

Wolverine sensed Storm’s empathy; she'd made a connection, one of kinship and spirit. They both could feel it deep in their souls - the weather goddess and nature’s own untamed fury. They were connected in spirit, Storm and Wolverine. Kindred spirits, the beauty and the beast; both of them capable of producing storms of incredible magnitude. Ororo could control hers, Logan could not.

"We will help you," she told him gazing into his eyes, then she turned away and walked over to a nearby wall. Choosing a large battleaxe, Storm pulled it from the wall. As she approached Wolverine carrying the axe in both hands, Scott stepped back and Jean on the other side did the same, but Wolverine stood his ground. With his head held low, his dark eyes glaring from beneath an angry brow, Logan watched her return with the weapon. His nostrils flaired and they could hear him grinding his teeth. Storm stopped in front of him holding the axe calmly in front of her with the blade slightly higher than the butt. Wolverine glanced at it, then he looked back at Storm.

"It is your turn now," she told him. He cocked his head as if he didn’t understand and Storm thrust the axe toward him, indicating for him to take it. His eyes met hers again and the corners of his mouth pulled tight in an impersonation of a grin. He reached out, gripping the axe below the head with his left hand and the butt in his right. They stood there looking at one another, neither of them making any attempt to take the blade away. Storm had Wolverine's complete attention and he waited. Jean was amazed with the ease in which Storm confronted the beast before them; seemingly without any fear at all. "Go, my friend. Release your rage," she instructed, then released her hold on the weapon.

Wolverine took a few steps backward and, as he turned to face the battleground, he twirled the axe like a baton about his head. He froze in a battle stance with the axe coming to an abrupt halt positioned in his right hand with the butt tucked tight under his armpit. He waited and the others watched him without a sound. He stood there, frozen; his feet set wide apart and knees bent, ready to spring in any direction. Then his head tilted slightly and a nano-second later he was on the move. In a quick burst of speed Wolverine raced across the wide expanse of the room. Scott, Jean and Ororo quickly exchanged curious looks. Where was he going? And why?

*~*

The holographic giant appeared in front of Wolverine who was thirty feet away and closing fast. The eight foot tall armored soldier towered over the five foot three inch Canadian, but Wolverine didn’t flinch nor hesitate. As he swung the axe up and around, he let out an animalistic roar and embedded the blade in the giant’s armored chest.

The giant stumbled backward under the force of the blow, but he didn’t go down. Still gripping the handle, Wolverine used it to pull himself up as he climbed onto his adversary. Reaching the giant’s shoulders, he used his powerful legs to jump the ten-foot distance to the wall and, grabbing onto the handholds, he scrambled up the wall as the holographic soldier pulled the axe blade from his chest. The giant turned, took aim at Wolverine and hurled the axe end over end.

Wolverine heard the ‘whup, whup’ sound it made as it was released into the air. Releasing the handgrips Logan pushed away from the wall and the axe blade bit into the wall where he had been only seconds before. Wolverine reached out; body fully extended and arms outstretched, as he hurtled through the air thirty feet above the floor. His hands found purchase on one of the parallel bars that extended down a few feet below the ceiling. He gripped it as tight as he could, preparing himself for the sudden lurch as his body’s momentum came to a sudden halt.

The professor, sitting in the Control Room, now had a perfect view of Wolverine hanging from the ceiling. He was a bit surprised that a person of Logan’s size could produce that kind of speed and power, but then again there was much about Logan they still didn’t know.

Wolverine looked down at the enemy below him and grinned savagely; he had drawn first blood. The giant looked up at him for a moment, then assuming Wolverine was going to remain safely out of reach he turned toward the three other students. Storm, Scott and Jean stared in awe at Wolverine’s acrobatic prowess then they tensed as the giant came toward them, stopping only long enough to pull a sword and shield from the nearby wall. Cyclops, Storm and Jean immediately spread out, ready to defend themselves.

Wolverine watched as he dangled from the bar high overhead. His brow furrowed as he realized the giant soldier had given up on fighting him. ‘Not so fast, Bub,’ he thought to himself, ‘I haven’t even begun to fight.’ Then he let go of the bar and dropped the thirty feet to the floor below and the only thing that gave him away was the startled expressions on the faces of Xavier’s students as their eyes followed his descent.

Wolverine landed softly on his feet allowing his muscular legs to absorb the impact and settled into a crouched position directly behind his opponent. Having noticed the X-Men tracking movement behind him, the giant stopped. Wolverine froze, resting on his haunches and waited for the strike to come. The strike came.

The giant spun around swinging the sword out at chest level, hoping to take off the head of his shorter opponent. The sword sliced through the air and found only empty space as it passed over Wolverine’s head. The giant felt a brief moment of confusion before he realized what was happening.

Wolverine leapt into the air. Displaying great power and agility he rotated his body and landed a powerful spin kick to his opponent’s head. The mammoth warrior grunted in pain and surprise, but before Wolverine could touch back down the gladiator punched out with his shield hand. The shield slammed Wolverine in the chest sending him twisting through the air. He hit the floor tumbling and when he stopped he was on his feet; coming to rest in his distinctive fighting stance with his fists held up in front of his chin.

The giant smiled at him and gave a slow nod of his head, showing his respect for Wolverine’s temerity and skill, then he raised the sword and pointed it at the stocky man-animal. Wolverine grinned back, but his friendly closed mouth grin quickly turned into a menacing snarl as he peeled back his upper lip to reveal his over-sized canines.

Suddenly there was movement of air behind him, which would have been imperceptible by most people, but Logan wasn’t like most people. The displaced air brushed against him almost unnoticeably like a feeble meaningless breeze, but Wolverine knew that the air had been displaced because something else had taken its place. He didn’t have time to turn around and he didn’t need to, his heightened sense of smell confirmed the enemy presence behind him and it all happened in the blink of an eye.

No sooner did ‘Soldier Number Two’ materialize behind him when it slammed a massive forearm down on Wolverine’s neck and shoulders driving him to his knees. Dazed, he shook his head to clear it, then a low growl escaped his throat. Realizing that Wolverine was now at a disadvantage, Cyclops quickly moved forward with Storm and Jean close behind.

As Wolverine raised his head, the first gladiator was already stomping toward him. The second one grabbed him by the back of his collar pulling him off the floor. He dangled Wolverine out in front of him, using him as a target for the enemy brandishing a sword and closing in on him fast.

Cyclops broke into a run.

Wolverine caught sight of the fast moving X-Man racing toward him and the swordsman bearing down on him and Logan’s mind screamed, ‘Ambush!’ With that, Wolverine’s rage intensified. He tried to loosen his opponent’s grip by wriggling and kicking his feet. He reached up behind his head trying to rip the hand from his neck. It almost worked too, the hologram holding him in the air started grappling for a hold with his other hand. Wolverine kicked out at the swordsman as soon as he got into striking range and the swordsman stepped sideways to avoid the blows from Wolverine’s powerful legs. He didn’t need to though, he realized. He could still strike at Logan with the sword without putting himself in harm’s way, for although his stocky prey had strength, skill, agility, and courage, he lacked the one thing that could save him right now… reach. The sword swept around in a wide arc, aiming to open up Wolverine’s abdomen and spilling his guts out onto the floor.

"NO!" Cyclops yelled.

"RAWRR!" Wolverine roared in anger and desperation. He pulled his knees up to his chest to protect his belly and the sword sliced through the muscle of his left thigh. "RAWRR!" Wolverine roared in pain and twisted around so violently that he broke the grip the second giant had on him. He dropped to the floor, facing the enemy who had humiliated him by dangling him like helpless prey. Wolverine was far from helpless and heaven help those who were unfortunate enough to underestimate his cunning and his resilience. Despite the gaping wound on his leg he landed solidly with both knees bent, keeping him low and under the giant’s natural line of sight.

Snikt. Snikt. Cyclops heard it - the sound of metal scraping metal, then he saw them. 'Claws!' Protruding from the backs of Logan’s hands. From the tissue between his knuckles were three metal claws, each one about twelve inches long.

Wolverine sprang at his enemy embedding his foot long claws in the armor his opponent wore. The giant howled, stumbling backward as he tried to push Wolverine off, but he couldn't. The snarling Canadian was anchored there by the metal spikes he drove into his enemy over and over again.

Cyclops skid to a halt when he saw the six huge claws break through the skin of Logan’s hands. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and now he could only stare as he watched with growing horror as Wolverine went berserk. Jean and Ororo ran up and stopped next to him. "What in the world…?" Scott asked stunned.

"The adamantium!" Jean exclaimed.

"Bright Goddess," Storm whispered, shocked by the sight of Wolverine’s bloodlust rage.

With each strike of his claws he began to tear his enemy apart and with each strike his thirst for more blood escalated. The hologram tried to fight him off to no avail. Logan was splattered with blood and the smell of it sent him into a wild, rabid frenzy. The pain in his leg and the smell of his own blood only added to his crazed state. He growled and gnashed his teeth, biting at his enemy any time it tried to defend itself.

Whatever sanity and logic that Logan had was gone. The man known as Logan was gone. The swordsman came up behind him ready to strike him down, but Wolverine somersaulted clear. He came up on his feet brandishing his blood stained claws, then he roared an insane challenge.

"Logan! No!" Scott yelled, hoping to get his attention. Wolverine paid none. "Wolverine! Stop!" Cyclops demanded, sickened by the sight.

Wolverine lunged at the swordsman and the sword came up at him. With a single swipe of his unbreakable claws he shredded the sword into four harmless pieces and kept on coming.

* * *

Charles feared for Logan’s state of mind; not only in the dream sequence, but also in real time. Why was Logan accessing this particular memory? Did his subconscious mind feel the need to reconnect with that part of himself he had long ago gotten under control? Or was it just an extension of Logan’s feelings now of not being in control? Or was it a nightmare making Logan face a part of himself he feared so much?

* * *

In the Danger Room, Jean turned to look up at the Control Room to see Xavier looking down at her with grave concern, he nodded once to her then disappeared from the window. Jean understood the silent command from her mentor and called out to the automated system.

"Terminate exercise!"

It responded immediately to her command and the holograms vanished, including the one Wolverine was grappling with. He was almost thrown off balance when it suddenly disappeared and there was nothing there to counter his weight. He spun, looking frantically around the room, growling his confusion and unrepentant rage. The door to the Danger Room opened and Charles entered and as the door slid closed behind him he gave it one command.

"Lock."

The sound of two large metal rams sliding into place, bolting the large steel door shut, could be heard. When he'd heard the door slide open Wolverine spun around toward the sound and saw Charles enter. He growled and gnashed his teeth, his eyes darted around the room and were now beyond wild, they were insane; the whites of his eyes had turned blood red in response to his escalating blood pressure. Charles knew that Logan was now in pure survival mode and acting only on instinct. He hoped to talk him down if only Logan could still understand him. He had to try.

"Logan," Charles said, his soothing voice floated across the room and at the sound of it Wolverine snarled. "It’s alright, Logan. You’re safe now, no one is going to harm you," Charles told him, trying to get him to relax his posture.

Wolverine would have none of it; he growled low and deep, his eyes still moving quickly around the room, keeping all of them in his line of sight. He was sure these people were trying to distract him so another attack could be implemented.

"You’ve been injured," Storm said, moving slowly toward him. "Let us help you."

Each time they spoke to him Wolverine growled back at them. Jean tried to communicate with him using a telepathic link that would reach directly into Logan’s mind, but as she began she gasped loudly in terror and Scott grabbed onto her to steady her.

"Jean? What’s wrong?" he asked.

"He doesn’t understand," she whispered, clutching her head with both hands.

"What?" Scott asked, confused.

"Our words… he doesn’t understand our words."

"Jean," Charles scolded her, realizing what she had just attempted to do, "don’t try that again. You’re not ready and Wolverine’s mind is… too dangerous."

"What do we do, Professor?" Scott asked, waiting for orders.

"Nothing," he advised. "If we can’t talk him down, I’ll have to…" Charles let his words trail off. He didn’t have to finish his sentence, they knew. They also knew he didn’t like the alternative. Assaulting someone’s mind with a psionic blast was the equivalent to a psychic stun gun. Although usually minimally painful, it can render a person unconscious by literally imploding their thoughts and their senses; effectively shutting down their central nervous system.

"Charles, no," Ororo pleaded, then stepped forward, hoping to connect with Wolverine again. "Logan, please, you must hear us."

"Ororo, don’t," Scott said as he grabbed her arm, stopping her from getting any closer. His grasp startled Ororo and she flinched involuntarily. Wolverine growled and lunged forward as if to protect Storm from the man restraining her. Then he stopped and growled a warning again.

"No, Scott, let go," she begged, fearing for his safety.

"Stay away from him, Storm. He’s too dangerous. He’s out of control," Scott cautioned.

"We must help him," she insisted, trying to release herself from his grasp.

"We will, Ororo. I promise you," Charles assured her, "but, right now your anxiety is being felt by our feral friend. His tension mounts as we speak. You must be an example for him, his eyes are on you. Be calm."

Storm turned to look at Logan. The professor was right, Wolverine had his eyes glued on her. He was swaying his body from side to side totally unaware that he was doing so. The motion gave Ororo the mental image of a cobra swaying in its peculiar dance, as if hypnotized by the snake charmer, but she knew better than that. Like the deadly snake, Wolverine was neither hypnotized nor charmed. He was feeding on her anxiety, allowing it to fuel his anger and like the cobra he was totally focused and preparing to strike. Ororo relaxed her posture and Scott let go of her arm. She stared at Wolverine, searching his eyes for the slightest glimmer of reason. She hoped to see a sparkle of cognitive ability, just a glimpse of understanding.

There was none. His humanity was gone. Logan had regressed to a completely wild state; a ferociously savage state of mind. There was no reasoning or compromise in those eyes. His foreboding stare was frightening and showed them, without a doubt, undeniable proof of his innate savagery. Storm understood now just how much power Logan had fought back that first day in the infirmary. This was part of his mutation, this bestial rage he could not control. Ororo lowered her head, as well as her voice and when she spoke it was heavy with grief.

"You can’t talk him down, Charles. He has no comprehension of who we are or what is happening here." Her eyes filled with tears. He was an indomitable spirit; a child of nature, wild and dynamic… and they were going to have to break him. Ororo’s tears flowed down her cheeks, "You have to take him down, Charles."

"I know, Ororo," the professor agreed sullenly. He didn’t have to probe Logan’s mind to understand what they were facing; this was not a reaction that Logan consciously chose. He was helpless to stop it and when it took over it took him over completely.

"Make it quick. Please." Another tear rolled down her cheek as Ororo hung her head not wanting to watch. Logan was a child of nature just like her; he was the son of the forest and she, a daughter of the sky. They were connected to each other through spirit just as much as each of them was connected to their mother earth. The thought of what was about to happen pained Ororo to her very soul.

"As quick as I can," Charles promised, sensing her grief.

*~*~*

Wolverine understood anger, he understood fear; he could sense it with his entire being. But what was this? He watched the tear roll down Storm’s cheek. This was unfamiliar to him, he'd never seen sorrow and he was suspicious, but curious. His head cocked to one side, in the same manner that all animals express curiosity, and stared at Ororo as he slowly lowered his clawed fists to hip level. Then he relaxed his stance and, as he stared at the teardrop on her cheek, he took a tentative step forward.

* * *

As the dream-professor began his psychic assault on the dream-Logan, Charles could feel the very power of the psi-blast. Back in the infirmary the others watched his strained expression as he'd gasp or groan in reaction to the dream's events.

Logan, lying on the bed, began to move about restlessly and the others wondered what was happening between them. Every few seconds he’d throw his head from side to side, his chest began to heave and Hank kept his eye on Logan as Jean moved closer to the professor and Ororo felt lost standing between them. The machine monitoring Logan’s brainwaves registered a slight elevation in activity and Hank watched it closely.

"He’s definitely dreaming," Hank concluded a moment later. Ororo stood silent, lost in her own thoughts. Her feelings were threatening to expose themselves and she bit down on her lower lip.

* * *


In the Danger Room, his pain began as harmless as a tension headache and Wolverine barely noticed it. He took a few steps forward and winced slightly as the pain began to increase. He wanted to experience Ororo’s sorrow; he could smell and taste the salt her tears were producing. He didn’t understand sadness or sympathy and, whatever this was, he'd never been shown it before. As he slowly moved toward her, Logan squinted his eyes against the intensifying pain.

"He’s… strong," the professor’s strained voice grabbed their attention. None of them had realized that he'd already begun his psychic assault on Wolverine. "His anger… makes him… powerful."

Wolverine took another step forward and grunted in pain and Ororo raised her head, curious to see what was happening. He didn’t go down as easily or as quickly as the professor had promised. Charles turned up the power of his psionic blast and in mid-stride Wolverine’s legs gave out. Clutching his head, Logan fell to his knees roaring in pain and Ororo covered her mouth with both hands to keep from yelling out to him. Charles maintained the blast at that level hoping it would be enough to weaken Logan into unconsciousness. It wasn’t. He fought against it.

The pain was becoming intense, but Wolverine didn’t realize that he was under attack. He leaned forward putting one hand on the floor to steady himself. He felt shaky and his head was spinning, blood pounding in his ears. His vision blurred and his claws retracted, but still he tried to stand. Charles had to intensify his focus even more and Jean could sense the power behind the blast.

"Why won’t he go down?" she asked, clutching at Scott.

"He doesn’t know he’s supposed to," Scott explained sullenly. Jean feared that Logan would be permanently damaged by the high powered mental assault and, at the same time, marveled at the magnitude of his resolve.

* * *


In the infirmary, Logan’s head tossed about on the pillow as his moans turned to painful groans. The vital signs monitor registered his elevated heart rate with a rapid succession of rhythmic beeps. A few feet away, Charles straightened with a jolt and gasped with a loud intake of air as he re-experienced the mental push of Logan's defenses.

* * *


In the Danger Room, Wolverine stood on weak legs, his muscles shook under his weight as he bent forward, still clutching his head in agony. He took a slow deep breath and tried to straighten from the waist. Charles slammed him full force and the professor's anguished thoughts went out to Wolverine. ‘I’m so sorry, Logan.’ Wolverine recognized the voice in his head, but not the words it spoke. He growled at Charles, revealing his large fangs in a deadly threat, then his legs gave out again.

* * *


In the infirmary, both monitors were rapidly sounding off now and out of rhythm to each other. The noise reminded Hank of those old Atari games with the ‘ping pong ball’ that bounced back and forth across the t.v. screen. Logan began to thrash violently on the bed, a low gritty sound coming from his throat. At the sound of Logan’s growl, Jean’s attention broke away from Charles and she stood up to look past Hank to the noisy monitors.

"He’s really jacked up, Hank," she stated nervously.

"I know," he replied without taking his eyes off the monitor screen. Beside Jean, Charles panted for air and then he groaned, verbalizing his own discomfort and fear. Storm and Jean glanced back and forth between the two men with extreme worry etched on their faces.

"They’re sharing Logan’s dream," Ororo finally remarked.

"Mmm… nightmare would be a more proper descriptive," Hank corrected. Realizing what was happening, Jean sat down quickly next to Charles. Grabbing his arm, she shook him as hard as she could manage, trying to break his psychic connection to Wolverine.

"Charles!" she yelled as the professor’s face contorted with pain. "Charles!" she yelled again frantically, then she shot an angry glance at Logan as if demanding silently that he release Xavier.

* * *


In the Danger Room, Wolverine tried to focus his eyes through pained, blurred vision. He clutched his fists against his temples as another blast wave struck him. Darkness threatened to overtake him and he threw back his head with a most savage roar; one not heard since the beginning of time. Ororo covered her ears, trying to block out the sound, trying to not hear his torment. She couldn’t stand this, it was just too much.

"Stop, Charles! Please!" she pleaded. "Release him!"

"I can’t stop now, Ororo," the professor informed her. He was near exhaustion, but at this point it was imperative to take Wolverine down. If he were to be given the chance to recover from such an assault, he would be even more dangerous than he was before the attempt.

Wolverine tried to protract his claws, but his muscles spasmed uncontrollably under the assault. They protruded half their length, then a moment later they retracted again involuntarily. On his knees, Wolverine lurched forward trying to attack his attacker, but it was finally just too much for him. The last bit of strength that was in him, left him, and he crashed hard against the floor.

Charles slumped in his chair exhausted and it took a moment for the others to realize that it was finally over. The sound of Wolverine’s final, desperate howl echoed across the room before a deafening silence settled around them. Jean quickly went to the professor’s side as Scott and Ororo ran to Logan and found him barely breathing.

"Charles, are you all right?" Jean asked very concerned.

"I’m fine, Jean. Just drained," he assured her. "How is Wolverine?" he asked. They looked to Scott and Ororo and the still form lying prone on the floor. "Is he alive?" Charles asked, regretting that he had to.

"Yes, barely," Scott answered, then he turned to examine Logan’s injured leg. "He’s lost a lot of blood. The wound is deep, maybe to the bone."

"Get him to the infirmary and monitor his condition closely," Charles instructed them. Scott nodded and brushed the hair from Wolverine’s face to make sure he was out cold. Ororo rested one hand on Logan’s shoulder, as she wiped away her tears and prepared to assist in any way possible.

"Charles…" Jean started to say.

"He’ll be unconscious for hours. I need to rest," the professor informed her.

"Yes," Jean agreed whole-heartedly.

"I’ll be in to sit with him as soon as my strength returns. I need to be there when he wakes up."

"Will he remember any of this?" Jean asked, looking at Logan on the floor.

"It’s hard to say, Jean. I should hope not."

* * *


In the infirmary, Ororo stepped closer to the bed so she could see past Hank. The noise from the monitor alarms was becoming deafening. The needle on the one registering Logan’s brainwaves was jumping so fast that it left a solid blue strip about two inches wide down the length of tape that spit out from the side of the machine. Hank reached over and turned the volume down to a more comfortable level.

"That needle is going crazy," Ororo stated.

"Berserk is more like it," Hank replied as he lowered the side rail on the bed and sat down at the edge. He leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the bed to either side of Logan and watched him closely.

"What?" Ororo said, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"He’s in ‘berserker mode’," McCoy informed her quietly, confirming her fear.

"No, not again," she replied in disbelief. "He can’t." Hank looked up at her raising his brow, before returning his sights on Logan again. "I mean, we just... we just got him back."

"He's gained a lot of control over the years, Ororo," Hank said with a nod of understanding. "However, he can not stop his primal rage once it’s been triggered. It’s a part of him, you know that," Hank reminded her, then he took his eyes from Logan and looked up at her, taking her hand. "Let’s help him through it safely. Alright?"

Ororo stared into Hank’s eyes which reflected an understanding and compassion for Logan’s condition and yet, at the same time, he held a stern expression that forced her to accept that this is Logan’s reality. McCoy knew what she'd gone through with Wolverine to bring him back from his wilder side only a few days before and he felt for her too. He held her gaze and gave her hand a squeeze and Storm finally nodded. Like it or not, McCoy was right. Hank turned his attention back to his patient who continued to thrash and growl. Logan's adrenaline levels skyrocketed and he curled his lip back to bare his fangs.

"Easy, Logan," Hank spoke to him softly, hoping his friend could hear him. "You’re safe."

Suddenly, the professor’s eyes popped open and he yelled out as he was forcibly ejected from Wolverine’s enraged psyche. His unexpected shout startled Dr. McCoy who jumped up and spun around in concern. Storm was the only person in position to see Logan's eyes snap open only moments later. His muscles tightened in terror as his groggy mind tried to catch up with reality and his back arched slightly off the bed. The look of intense fear in his eyes, as he tried to make sense of what was happening, caused Ororo to react without thinking.

As Logan's hands rose up off the bed, to instinctively put his claws between himself and any would-be assailants, Ororo dropped down on top of him to keep him still. As she draped herself across his chest, her hip came down to pin his arm to the bed and before he could register the weight of her body pinning him down, Ororo brought her hands up to his face and held him there, trying to direct his attention to her. Desperately, she tried to quiet his fears as she drew his eyes to hers. She quickly but quietly whispered comforting words to him and her hushed tone drew his focus to her. He looked back and forth from her eyes to her mouth, much like an infant would, trying to bring the whole picture together. His brain tried to register her words, but his mind was swimming; he couldn't think, so he just focused on her.

Her eyes, full of love and compassion and kindness; her lips, delicately forming and changing shape as she hushed him, making comforting and soothing sounds. His blackened eyes stared at her, taking her in as he tried to realign his thoughts. As the tension in his body dissipated and he relaxed beneath her, Storm continued to make the quieting sounds. She stroked his hair, keeping her face close to his. She watched him closely as his enlarged pupils slowly began to ebb, revealing the striking blue irises hidden beneath. Logan's hand came up to grasp her elbow weakly and he swallowed against the dryness in his throat as he attempted to speak.

"Ro." His voice was hoarse and his throat felt raw, but he spoke her name aloud as if to confirm her identity. Ororo smiled, despite the tears in her eyes and nodded.

"Yes." She didn't so much say the word as breathed it out in a rush of released air. He'd spoken; he recognized her and Storm's relief was overwhelming. Her fingers curled into his hair and her initial breath of laughter quickly turned to relieved sobs as she came closer and captured his mouth with hers. She cried happily and kissed him softly and his lips began to move against hers. Logan's hand tightened on her elbow as he tasted her lips, his mind still trying to catch up. Ororo's hands loosed from his hair and her palms slid down to frame his face as she drew back, slowly breaking the kiss. Her thumbs caressed his cheeks as she looked into his eyes, acknowledging how much he really meant to her, before moving forward to kiss him again and this kiss was equally accepted. They kissed deeply as her hands held his face close and Logan's hand gripped her elbow tighter; was the best he could do at the moment and they fell into the depths of their first real and meaningful kiss.

Charles, who'd recovered from his own shaken state, had come up alongside the bedrail to check on Wolverine's condition. He watched the connection Ororo managed to make once again with Logan and, as the two separated from one another briefly, the professor cleared his throat to get their attention.

As Ororo moved back in for the second kiss, Logan's hand left her elbow and redirected itself toward Charles. Raising his index finger into the air, Logan silently suggested that the professor hold his thought until Ororo was finished. Xavier averted his eyes, lowering his head with a grin and waited... as the Wolverine suggested.



TBC in "At Death's Door"





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