The Calming Storm (Part Six)
"Get off…get off o’ me!" Logan roared in rage as he continued to thrash violently on the bed under Collosus’ restraining hold. "Getcher fuckin’ hands off o’ me!" he growled loudly, but Peter continued to pin him to the mattress by his biceps while Hank tried to keep a solid grip on Logan’s ankles. The rest of the team followed them to the infirmary in case they were needed and Dr. McCoy began to bark out orders as he got his thoughts organized.
"Kurt! I need you to go back and get the sedative from Jean!" Hank had to yell over Wolverine’s growls and shouts as he loudly protested Peter’s restrictive hold on him.
With his lips pulled back, flashing a mouth full of large sharp teeth, Logan threw his head from side to side snapping and growling. Saliva dripped from his fangs and his eyes were wild and bloodshot. Wolverine was determined that he would not go down without a fight this time. If they were intent on causing him more pain then he was prepared to give as good as he'd already gotten.
Kurt nodded and quickly handed the power-suppressing collar, which he’d recovered during the scuffle in the lab, to Rogue who was now standing beside him and quickly ran out of the room and down the corridor to the lab.
"Rogue!" Hank shouted to get her attention. "I need you to slip that collar around his neck! Can you do that?" he asked. Rogue looked up at Hank with wide eyes, still in shock, as her mind tried to catch up with the reality of what was taking place.
Jean was tending to Remy back in the lab and had insisted that Rogue come to the infirmary to lend a hand. She didn’t understand at the time why she was being shooed away from the lab and her injured boyfriend but now she understood exactly why. Thanks to her mutant ability to absorb the powers of other mutants Rogue had become nearly indestructible over the years. Her skin, bones and soft tissues had become impervious to all forms of mutilation - including bullets, knives, claws… and teeth. She stood near the door holding the collar in front of her, the knuckles of both hands turning white as she gripped the steel ring tightly. She watched the battle to control her deranged teammate as she came to grips with her own role in this planned series of events.
"Rogue!" Hank shouted again. She shifted her gaze back to McCoy and their eyes locked on one another. Hank lowered his voice and nearly pleaded with her in a calm tone even as he continued his struggle to maintain a hold on Wolverine’s legs. "We need your help," he stated simply. Rogue blinked as her thoughts cleared. She nodded vigorously and moved quickly forward, stepping between Collosus and the wall she came around him to the other side at the head of the bed. Wolverine didn’t notice her at first as he was still too busy trying to free himself from the situation. Rogue raised the collar up above his head and took a deep breath.
"Logan," she said quietly to get his attention. Surprised to hear a voice coming from behind him, Logan ceased his struggles long enough to look up at her. As he tilted his head back, raising his chin toward the ceiling, Rogue slammed the collar in place across Wolverine’s throat. His immediate and instinctive reaction was to clamp his powerful jaws around her forearm attempting to tear her flesh with his huge fangs. "Hey! Watch it, wild boy!" she scolded.
Wolverine expected to hear a blood curdling scream and a frenzied panic, not a calm yet sarcastic witticism. Before he could react, Rogue jerked her arm free from his powerful jaws and quickly secured the collar around his neck. With a renewed sense of panic, Wolverine began to thrash again violently and actually succeeded in dislodging Dr. McCoy. In surprise Hank stepped back, away from Logan’s flailing legs.
As he prepared to lunge forward again Collosus shook his head and informed him that he had the situation under control. McCoy understood and nodded. There was no need for him to risk physical injury when Peter had things well in hand, successfully pinning Wolverine to the bed by his upper arms. Hank stepped off to the side, out of Logan’s immediate view, and as he waited for Kurt to return he took this opportunity to make a clinical assessment of Logan’s psychological state.
He watched, along with the other team members, as Wolverine threatened Peter with bodily harm and then cursed him using the most-foul language any of them had ever heard. When those attempts to gain his freedom failed, Logan tried quiet persuasion and manipulation. When all of his attempts seemed to fall upon deaf ears he became angrier and pushed even harder against Peter with the hope of slipping his steel grasp.
As Ororo made her way quickly down the hall she could hear Logan’s deafening roars echoing past her through the corridors – his terror masked only by his intense rage at what he must perceive as an unforgivable betrayal. She ran down the corridor toward the infirmary, passing Kurt racing in the opposite direction. They barely glanced at each other as they passed one another. Ororo was determined to get to Logan in hopes of easing his fears… and regaining his trust. But as she raced through the door leading into the medical bay Cyclops grabbed onto her to hold her at bay and to keep her from rushing into an already out of control situation.
Ororo spun around in his grasp as her momentum came to a sudden halt. She immediately tried to push away from him but Scott held on tight. He spoke to her quietly but with a hushed urgency that she couldn’t ignore. Storm wasn’t completely aware of what he was saying but his _expression and manner told her clearly that the worst thing she could do right now was to interfere. Her time would come, he told her.
She blinked at him as her tunnel vision dissipated, then turned around slowly in his arms to watch the outcome. Scott continued to reassure her that she would be allowed to be with Logan once the situation was under control. Ororo watched as Logan’s desperate attempts to fight Colossus failed and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from yelling out to him. Then she noticed, as Logan continued to flail on the bed beneath Peter’s weight, that they had already succeeded in placing the collar around his neck.
She seemed to be the only one who realized that in their attempts to help Wolverine, the X-Men were only succeeding in re-enacting the horrors of Logan’s nightmares. And their actions, well intentioned as they were, were triggering all of his memories of the torture inflicted upon him, bringing them back in vivid detail. He was re-experiencing not only the remembered pain but his feelings of helplessness, confusion, terror and humiliation. Ororo turned her back on the scene, unable to watch Logan’s distress. She crushed herself against Scott’s chest and cried. She had failed Logan again.
Only moments later Kurt returned to the infirmary with the objects that Jean gave him to bring back to Hank. Dr. McCoy took the small bundle and, placing it on the desk, unfolded the towel as he continued to listen to Logan’s repeated attempts to coerce his teammate. Kurt moved closer to where Bobby and Scott were standing with Ororo. They remained nearby in case they were needed but stayed clear of Wolverine’s flailing legs as he tried to gain some leverage against Peter. As Hank approached him, holding a syringe and a small vial of clear liquid, he informed Logan that he was going to be administering an injection.
"I don’t need an injection," Wolverine growled. "Let me go."
But Dr. McCoy remained undeterred as he pulled a chair up next to the bed. "You’re getting this injection," Hank told him, keeping his voice calm. It took all the strength Hank had to push his personal feelings aside so he could complete the task before him. He had to concentrate on not becoming emotionally involved so he could do what he knew as a doctor needed to be done.
"What is it?" Logan asked as he continued struggling.
"It’s a sedative," Hank told him as he sat down in the chair beside the bed.
"A sedative? I don’t need that," Logan told him and Hank could hear the sincerity in Logan’s voice. He really didn’t see his behavior as anything other than rational.
"Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?" Hank replied, keeping his voice level. Logan stopped struggling and gave McCoy a bemused, if not evil, grin.
"Those don’t work on me, remember?" he challenged.
"This one will," Hank answered and Wolverine’s grin widened.
"What makes ya’ think so?" he asked.
Hank always held onto a strong belief that the patient always has the right to know what is happening to him. And although he knew that Logan was unstable, and incapable of rational thought at the moment, he decided to explain the situation to him. Dr. McCoy leaned toward Wolverine, looking him in the eye and proceeded to talk softly to him. He didn’t want to rile him up any more than he already was, but it appeared to him that Logan had already forgotten about the collar around his neck.
"We’ve suppressed your healing factor…" Hank began to explain. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he relayed the information to his patient, knowing the sensitivity of the subject. Wolverine’s feral grin faltered slightly as he stared at Hank, listening to every word the large blue Beast was saying. "The collar around your neck…" McCoy continued slowly and Wolverine’s smile disappeared as his eyes widened with the realization. "It won’t shut down your healing factor, but I have set it to a level which will slow the acceleration of your healing ability… which will allow the sedative to take affect and subsequently wear off at a more normal rate."
Wolverine forgot about Peter for the moment and stared at McCoy in disbelief. "Yer kiddin’, right?" he asked with a hint of fear in his voice. Hank pursed his lips together and looked away from Logan to take a deep breath, then he looked back at those pleading blue eyes and answered his friend’s question.
"No, Logan, I would never kid you."
They stared at each other silently for a few moments, then Hank sat back in the chair and reached for the items on the side table next to the bed. He raised the small vial, turning it upside down just above eye level and inserted the needle into the cap. Tilting his head back slightly, so he could read the dosage lines on the syringe through the bottom half of his bifocals, Hank pulled the plunger downward. As he drew the medication from the vial into the syringe, Hank suddenly felt his stomach turn over as he realized Wolverine was watching in fear. He could feel Logan’s eyes on him and imagined those big blue eyes filled with terror.
"I don’t need that, Hank," Logan nearly pleaded.
Doctor McCoy understood Logan’s fear. He knew where it came from and he hated himself for what he was about to do, but it had to be done… for everyone’s safety. Logan’s personality was seriously disorganized and his sense of reality was obviously impaired. His mental and emotional states had always been erratic - like a ride on a roller coaster, varying speeds and direction. Sometimes it was a slow uphill climb that would eventually level off – giving everyone a chance to catch their breaths – or it would reach the peak only to plummet at an alarming speed, to seeming disaster. Those who chose to tag along for the ride would find those rare moments of breathless exhilaration…or the whip-lashing, spine-cracking twists and turns that would leave their heads spinning and their stomachs churning.
"I don’t need that, Hank."
"Trust me, Logan," McCoy replied softly.
"NO!" Logan growled viciously. His reply surprised Hank, causing him to pause. He glanced down at Logan, furrowing his brow. It was obvious to him now just how much Wolverine’s mind was off balance. One moment Logan seemed to recognize him as a friend and the next moment only as an enemy.
"Trust me, Logan," Hank repeated, hoping Logan would be able to understand that his intentions were not to harm him.
"No! Don’t!" Logan shouted. "I don’t need it!" His fear and anger grew and he tried to wrest himself free with a sudden burst of violence that sent Bobby and Scott rushing forward to help hold him down. Logan was adamant about not getting that shot. He didn’t trust Hank and he believed his feelings of being betrayed were now justified. As Hank turned toward him with the syringe in hand Logan demanded answers for the doctor's traitorous actions.
"Why would you do that?!" he yelled accusingly. "You said you were my friends! You said you wouldn’t hurt me! You lied! You fucking lied!" he screamed at them as he bucked and strained furiously against their hold.
"We didn’t lie to you, Logan. We are not going to hurt you," Hank tried to reason with him. "You are not well. I know you think you are, but you’re not... and I realize you don’t understand this, but we’re trying to help you."
Wolverine struggled for a few moments more, then all of a sudden, as quickly as his burst of rage had manifested, it vanished. He not only stopped fighting, but his behavior completely changed - so drastically in fact, that it left everyone stunned.
"Please don’t do this," Logan pleaded. "I’ll be good," he told them, sounding so small. Hank’s forehead creased with concern and he stopped what he was doing to look at Logan. ‘What the hell does he think is happening here?’ Hank wondered to himself.
"Logan, this isn’t punishment," Hank told him. "How do I make you understand? We’re not going to hurt you."
"No! Please! I promise! I’ll behave!" Logan shouted. Grabbing onto Peter’s forearms he looked up at the giant Russian as if pleading with the man to protect him. It was obvious to Hank that Logan was not hearing what he was trying to tell him. It was as if his brain was only picking up certain words, and sending the message to Logan all jumbled up. "This is// punishment. /// do / //// you understand? We’re /// going to hurt you."
"Logan, please, listen to me," Hank said. Despite what he knew to be the facts he tried once again to reason with him, "We are not punishing you. We are trying to help you."
"Don’t need it! Don’t help me!" Logan pleaded loudly. "Please! Don’t! I wanna stay in control!"
"You think you’re in control?" Bobby blurted out without thinking. Scott and Hank both shot him a look that demanded he keep silent. Logan was already frantic and the situation demanded professional intervention not outbursts that would continue to set him off. But Logan looked at Bobby hoping to make his case.
"I am, I am." Logan answered, "I’m okay… really! You can trust me," he rattled out, panting heavily under his physical and emotional strain. "Please. Don’t knock me out. Please! Oh, god. Don’t. I, I…I can’t defend myself…if there’s danger. I, I, I can’t…" he stammered uncharacteristically. "Please! Don’t knock me out!"
Logan looked up at McCoy as the doctor gently pulled on his wrist. Straightening out Logan’s arm, Hank pulled it toward him with some assistance from Peter. "There is no danger here, Logan," Hank told him quietly, "except from you right now."
"No! I can control it," he told Hank. "Really. I’ll be good. I swear to god. Don’t do this. Please! I promise!"
Hank shook his head sadly as he rubbed alcohol on Logan’s arm. The veins inside the crook of his elbow were distended from the surge of adrenaline kicking up his blood pressure and triggering Logan’s ‘fight or flight’ response. The intense strain on Logan’s system caused his veins to dilate in order to compensate for the enormous blood volume coursing through his body. ‘Well, this makes my job easier,’ Hank thought to himself as he pushed the cotton swab against a large vein to test its integrity. It remained highly visible which meant he wouldn’t have to search for another site. When he was satisfied, he tossed the piece of cotton onto the nightstand next to the bed and picked up the syringe.
"Oh, god, don’t." Logan begged, watching Hank’s every move, "Please don’t. Please?"
Hank tried to ignore Logan’s pleas. He placed the cold, sharp needle against the swollen vein and a strangled, involuntary noise escaped from Logan’s throat. The sound made Hank hesitate. He stared at the insertion site and the sharp point in position against Logan’s skin.
"Hank?" Logan’s tiny voice reached McCoy’s ears and he tried not to look at him. ‘Just do it,’ he told himself. "Hank?" Dr. McCoy turned his face toward Logan but didn’t raise his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look the man in the face. He couldn’t look into those big blue eyes, desperate and pleading, and do what needed to be done. "Please don’t do this, man. I promise ya’. I’ll be good." Logan’s pleas threatened to rip his heart out and Hank clenched his teeth. "I can be good. Give me a chance, man. I’ll show ya’. I can be good."
Hank closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he heard Peter asking him a question. "What did those people do to him?" The large Russian asked, barely able to contain his own anger, but it was Ororo who answered him.
"If I told you... it would make you sick," she stated shakily.
"I’m already there," Collosus replied and the others nodded in agreement.
Building up his nerve, Hank took another deep breath then opened his eyes and pushed the needle smoothly into Logan’s vein. They all felt Logan’s body stiffen and freeze in fear as he stared at the needle buried in his arm. Hank slowly released the sedative into Wolverine’s bloodstream. Only then, as he slowly pushed the plunger down, was Hank able to look up at him and that was only because he needed to watch for any signs of adverse affects.
He’d never administered such a serum to Logan before and with his healing factor suppressed Hank had no idea what the proper dose should be or even if Logan would be allergic to the medication. Logan raised helpless eyes to him and Dr. McCoy hated himself for doing this to his friend. No... he hated the people who had set this stage and put him in the position to have to do this. Hank felt his own bestial rage start to boil deep inside him. He wanted to hurt somebody for making him do this... he wanted to hurt them bad. Then he heard Logan whimper and quickly pushed his anger back down.
"It’ll be all right," Hank reassured him softly as he finished administering the last drops from the syringe.
"Oh god…" Logan moaned weakly. He could already feel the affects of the serum and his eyes rolled lazily around, unable to focus as he fought to keep them open.
"It’s gonna be all right, Logan. Don’t fight it," Hank told him as he swept Logan’s bangs off his sweaty forehead and laid his hand there gently.
Logan’s eyes rolled back in his head and with a weak gasp he forced them open again. His fingers and toes tingled then went numb. His lips felt tingly too and the tip of his nose felt cold.
His worst fears were being realized and his breaths quickened in response. It was out of his hands now. Hank had mixed a potent serum. His heart was pounding in his chest and Logan focused on that because it was the only thing he could feel. He was aware of the heavy weight of his own arms and legs, but he couldn’t feel any sensation. He couldn’t feel the hands still holding him down or Hank’s thumb putting pressure on the punctured vein as he carefully removed the needle from his arm.
Logan’s eyes rolled over white again and the X-Men watched as he strained to keep them open. He moaned as he tried to fight the affects of the powerful drug. He tried with all of his might to keep his eyes open even as his muscles went limp. His whole body felt like a ton of dead weight. Through blurred vision and a sluggish brain trying to do its job, he looked up at the ‘faceless’ people standing above him, pinning him down, staring at him. Logan was scared and his fear escaped him in the form of another weak moan. Hank motioned for Ororo to come over and she did so quickly, nearly pushing Collosus out of the way.
She took Logan’s hand in one of hers and she stroked his hair with the other. Leaning down close to his face, Ororo pressed her cheek to his and whispered in his ear. Logan moaned in response to her and she felt him squeeze her hand lightly. Hank motioned for Bobby and Scott to release Logan’s ankles, they did and stepped back. Hank nodded and waved them toward the door as he wanted to maintain the quiet environment now inside the room. The two X-Men left, taking Kurt and Peter with them.
"Keep talking to him Ro," Hank advised softly. "Let him know he’s safe."
Ororo stared at Logan’s face and continued to comb her fingers through his hair. She spoke in a whisper, but Hank wasn’t sure if she was answering him or speaking to Logan.
"I’m not going anywhere," she whispered, her lips nearly brushing against Logan’s as she spoke. Hank watched her with Logan for a moment. The way she looked at him, the gentle way she touched him and reassured him. Ororo really did understand Logan better than most, Hank realized as he watched her interact with him. She kept herself close to his face - allowing Logan to hear her and smell her and feel her near. She clearly understood just how much Logan relied on all of his senses - without them he was as good as ‘blind’. Without her, he was alone. And they had tried to keep her from him. McCoy shook his head at the thought.
Hank stepped closer to check his patient before leaving them alone. He checked Logan’s breathing and heart rates and then lifted his eyelids gently to check the color of the whites of his eyes. Everything looked fine. Hank let out a tired sigh and patted Logan’s hand.
"Rest now, my friend," he half whispered. Hank wasn’t surprised to know that Logan could still hear him, because he knew that even when a person is in an altered state of consciousness the hearing is the last of the senses to go and the first to return. He was surprised, however, to hear Logan whisper back just before the silent darkness over took him.
"Can…be…good…man," he whispered, then fell silent. Ororo stared at him closely with the tears welling up in her eyes threatening to spill over. Hank squeezed Logan’s hand.
"My friend, you are a good man," he replied then turned and walked away, leaving his patient to Ororo’s watchful eye.
Now alone with the man she loved, Ororo let her tears fall. She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips then laid her head on his chest. Unconsciously reveling in the softness of the thick hair covering his torso she absently brushed her cheek against it. "You… are the best man I know," she whispered to him, then closed her eyes. She fell asleep against him, with one hand idly stroking his thick dark hair and the fingers of the other entwined with his own. Her breathing slowed in unison with his and her heart took on his beat.
Ororo fell asleep, feeling totally secure. Feeling safe.Feeling warm. Feeling whole. She fell asleep with an elegant and knowing grin playing on her lips. Ororo adjusted her loose embrace and settled against him. She fell asleep with only one thought playing in her head.
‘Tomorrow… our future begins.’
TBC in "In the Storm’s Wake , part one"
