"Nnnngh." Storm sat up, massaging her temples. She awoke to a horrible headache. As her focus slowly returned she began to take in her surroundings. She was lying on a bed, not her own, in a messy room. She could tell by the faint sound of the busy street outside that she was very high up. Every muscle in her body ached but she managed to turn over to get a better view of her shelter. Suddenly her heart started to pound as she realized how small the room really was. She tried to sit up and winced as waves of pain washed over her. The room started to spin. Suddenly, out of the whirlwind came a pair of red and blue hands and a voice. “Calm down. You’re safe here. You’ve just been badly hurt. You need to rest.” The hands were firm yet gentle and the voice gave her a little comfort, but her claustrophobia was going into high gear. “Please!” she cried out, “Take me outside, take me somewhere! I can’t...I can’t be in..” She stopped short as she realized she was revealing her weakness to this mysterious stranger. The hands that were holding her hesitated, then scooped her off the bed and took her out to a balcony.

It was late at night. As the hands set her down she looked up into the sky to shake out the dizziness in her head. There was but one star up there. It hurt her eyes to try to see it, hiding behind all the smoke and pollutants that tried to consume it. Storm switched her attention from the hidden star to her rescuer. It was dark but she could still make out his lean muscular form. He was wearing a blue and red body suit with a giant black spider on his chest. And a mask with large eyes. “This is so not spandex if that’s what you’re thinking.” the mask said. His words made her realize how hard she was staring at him. She quickly turned away. “What am I doing here?” she asked. The masked crusader squatted down until he was staring her in the face. “It’s a long story. You’re here because I saved your life. I would give you details but right now I think it would be better if you rest and regain some of your strength first. You took quite a beating.” Storm obeyed. Within moment, she found enough peace to fall asleep. She had heard of the amazing “Spiderman” and knew he was one for good. Plus she was too exhausted to argue. Her body was covered in bruises. What happened?

Hours later, Storm opened her eyes and for a second, she almost panicked, not realizing where she was. But then in front of her lying on the couch, she saw a red and blue costume and it all came back to her. Spiderman had shed his skin. Now I meet the alter ego, Storm thought to herself. She surveyed the room and saw that the masked crusader had removed almost all the furniture in the room to make it appear bigger. Storm smiled slightly as she lifted out of the bed. The pain was still there but not as intense. She looked out the window to see the sun shining and she finally recognized the city that had once been her home. Now that her head was cleared and her nerves were calmed, she tried to think back on the events that brought her here. She couldn’t remember a thing. What was her last memory?

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

"Logan! Stop please..." Ororo pleaded, pushing against the Canadian's chest. He didn't seem to be listening. "Logan! Goddess...this isn't the time or place.."

"Let yer goddess try an' stop me..." With a sly grin, Logan had Storm pressed against the metallic walls, taking in her scent as he nuzzled against her neck. Storm could feel the fight leaving her, and she wrapped her arms around Logan's neck, trying to whisper some sense in his ear. "Logan...Gambit's in the control room. He could be watching us right now, this isn't appropriate-..." Logan growled against her neck and the vibrations made her shiver. "Yer mind is always on that damn Cajun," He nibbled on her smooth skin hungrily, taking in the resulted moans. "You should be more concerned with what I'm gonna do to ya right now..." On cue, Logan grabbed her ass and lifted her from the ground and Storm, surprised, could only wrap her legs around him for support. The grinding was unintentional, but she didn't regret it. The ebony beauty slowly closed her eyes and gave in. How did Logan have so much effect on her?

*************
“Still in pain?”

Storm snapped back to reality. Realizing that she had been making noise, her face turned deep red. She turned to the intruder. “I was trying to remember what happened...my mind has blocked the incident for some reason. Will you tell me now please?” Storm stared at Spiderman’s alter ego, waiting for an answer. They had introduced themselves properly a little while ago. He offered her a chair at his table. Storm sat down, wondering if he really knew what she had been thinking about. Peter, showing no signs that he cared, sat back, took a deep breath and began. “Well, first off, understand that I wasn’t there to witness everything so maybe things turned out the way they did for a reason I don’t understand.” He paused, making sure what he just said sunk in. He really didn’t want to recall any of it. After another deep breath, he continued, ”I was just swinging through when my spider sense suddenly went crazy and I almost slammed into a building wall. No caution signs for web-slingers, you know? It's discrimination-”

Storm urged him to continue. “What was going on?” She desperately needed to know. To Storm her ignorance was a sign of lost control. She had to be in control. Peter stared at her for a minute, imagining her *once* beautiful face changing it’s expression when she remembered. Into what? Confusion? Horror? He really didn’t want to see it. “Wolverine..was in the middle of an intense battle that I happened upon. Along with some other people I want to assume were your teammates. A man with black and red eyes, ignites things with his hands..? And a woman, with a white streak in her hair, she had incredible strength...they both had interesting accents…” Storm saw their faces in her head. She remembered being called to the Danger Room back at Xavier’s School, with those three teammates, training for a mission...what mission? ”By the time I got there it seemed everyone was pretty beat up.” Peter went on, “The strong woman..Rogue right?...yeah she was laying half dazed on the ground and this..Gambit was charging up nearby objects and throwing them.”

“At who?”

“...at Wolverine.”

“Wolverine?!”

“...yeah.”


“Why?” Storm was very confused at this point. Then all of the sudden she saw Wolverine’s face. His eyes were all black. She saw him leaning over her, his fangs showing. Something wasn’t right. Storm tried to shake the image out of her head.

“Where was I?”

“Storm..” Peter looked at her with pleading eyes. When he had walked into the room earlier, he heard Storm whispering Logan’s name, a name he recognized from a time ago, in a graveyard fight. Peter had dealt with Wolverine aka Logan before and really didn’t have good memories of the guy but judging by Storm’s talking earlier, she definitely had some good memories. Which was probably why this recent one was blocked out. Peter didn’t want her to remember. He stayed silent, trying to figure out the best way to go about this.

"Spider-...Mr. Parker please, tell me. I must remember. My teammates could be in grave danger. What happened? Where was I?"

"You were...you were being attacked.."
~Yeah, I think that part has already been covered~, Storm thought. ~These bruises didn’t make themselves.~ But who made them? Who were they fighting?-

"Venom!" Storm suddenly exclaimed. "Did Venom do this?" Xavier had instructed them to go to New York, to search for Venom. He was making a name for himself, as a mutant killer. She remembered now. She was included in a team with Wolverine, Gambit, and Rogue. They were lead to Madison Square Gardens by Wolverine who had caught Venom’s scent..but then...what was Peter afraid to tell her?

“No...Storm it-“ Peter just decided to come out with it. “It wasn’t Venom. From what I saw you were all defending yourselves against Wolverine. He attacked Gambit first, then threw Rogue into the concrete street. After that, he went after you. Gambit got back up and started attacking him but not before he-....I shot him with web and pinned him against the building. He was a raging lunatic, Storm. I had to get you somewhere safe because he was trying to...he was determined to kill.. tell me you remember now?”

Storm was frozen. The image of Wolverine looming over her had returned. Only this time she knew it had been real. It had been Wolverine. He made these bruises. He had beaten her within an inch of her life. She slowly turned her head to look at her right arm. It had three straight, red swollen lines across it.

Her eyes slowly filled with tears. Why? Why did he do this? What happened for him to turn on them…on her, in this way?

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

Peter took a moment and just closed his eyes. The last 48 hours was filled with events that shouldn’t be much of a surprise, but they were. He ran his hands over his prized camera again. Madison Square Gardens was the hot spot for crime so he always had his camera there waiting. Priceless items were always shipped in for various displays. Jameson never had a complaint about these photos. And Peter always made sure he did a pose in an angle with the Gardens behind him. It was like art. Peter was very proud of his work and often kept doubles of what he gave to the Daily Bugle. But this time he didn’t plan on keeping the photos. In fact he meant to destroy all of them. Nothing good could come of these. Yet he still went through the motions. Out of habit, perhaps. He still wanted to see what his work produced. Maybe some answers.

He carefully took each photograph out of the solution and clipped them up. Upstairs he heard Storm’s footsteps, slowly dragging towards the bathroom. ~Probably to check her wounds~. He was relieved to hear some movement. She must’ve cried for hours, lying on the bed, not moving. Only the trembling of her shoulders as she wept. He watched her from the door for a minute. Offering comfort and sympathy wasn’t exactly a strong suit of his. He could always rely on Aunt May for that. But she wasn’t here and Peter just decided the best thing was to leave Storm alone. He retreated to his dark room, a place where he always found peace and solitude. Where he could put his scientific mind to use and think things through.

He stared at the photos, determined to put pieces together. The first one didn’t seem out of the ordinary. The four x-men stood in model poses, scanning the area. Due to the time lapse between shots, the next one went right to Wolverine holding Gambit by the throat.. He was yelling something. What? Did something happen in between then? Did Gambit say something? Did Wolverine see something that caused him to snap? The two women were in battle position. Storm’s eye’s were all white. Peter looked at the next one. Gambit lay next to a bent streetlight and the woman Rogue was charging at Wolverine. She looked pissed. Yet Wolverine didn’t even notice her. He was staring up in the sky, smiling. At Storm? Peter recalled the scene when he first came. Storm must’ve been that flash of light that slammed Wolverine into the wall, barely missing Spiderman. Rogue was lying face down on the ground. What exactly had he done to her? The next photo showed that very scene. ~Damn!~ Peter saw just how close he was to becoming one with the building. He also saw that Wolverine had Storm by the wrists. But he didn’t look like he was about to toss her or anything. On the contrary, he was speaking to her. And the look on Storm’s face was one of shock, hurt, anger, and confusion all at once. What the hell did he say? The next photo was so bad, Peter found himself squinting at it. The way it looked from the camera angle was Wolverine ripping something to shreds underneath him, with the fury of a wild animal. ~Storm...~ His adamantium claws were out and covered in blood. Through his squinted eyes, Peter noticed a bruised, brown hand reaching out from the side, helpless. There was blood everywhere. Wolverine’s back was basically being blown apart by heated objects thrown at him by Gambit. But this didn’t seem to phase Wolverine at all. Peter focused on his face. There was that evil snarl he remembered from the rumble in the graveyard. But his eyes, he didn’t remember those eyes. They were intense, those eyes. Bloodthirsty, relentless, filled with evil and lust. No, he didn’t remember those eyes. Not on Wolverine anyway. But they were very familiar……No! It couldn’t be. Could it? But it doesn’t make any sense. ~Well, actually it makes perfect sense. How else could you explain it?~ That was it. But the only problem with scientific thinking; it was good for the How, but what about Why?

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

"I knew it! I fuckin’ knew it! All ‘dis time."

Gambit frowned and stared at the metal ceiling. “And I still couldn’t stop it....you’re gonna fuckin’ pay for what you did to her!” He turned and stared at Wolverine, who was still unconscious. ~They really knocked him out. ‘Hope he’s dead.~ Gambit lifted his arms again in another attempt break the chains. He waved his arms out and up, rattling his chains loudly while his former partner lay asleep next to him. Gambit couldn’t think of how this situation could be any worse. He was chained to a metal table, right next to the unpredictable Wolverine, and couldn’t do a thing about it. How he loathed him. He had watched, almost helplessly as this feral beast tried to kill his other teammates. Tried to kill the two women he cared about so much. Then he watched helplessly as the ground slowly disappeared from under his feet.

Gambit was paralyzed and knocked out. He woke up chained to this metal bed right next to the betrayer. He didn’t even think about how he got there or who put him there. All he could think about was ripping Wolverine apart with his bare hands. And speaking of bare, where the hell was his clothes? Not that Gambit had any qualms about being naked, but it was a bit unnerving. Logan was still clothed and it only fueled Remy's hate for this man lying beside him. “After dey took you in and helped you out and dis is how you repay dem? What a real man you are, Wolverine-“
Gambit’s words were cut off as Wolverine awoke with a jolt and started screaming at the top of his lungs, arching his back off the metal bed. Gambit froze and stared in awe. Wolverine’s clothes were convulsing, as if they were taking on a life of their own. He thrashed about, trying to break free from his chains, but it seemed his clothes were holding him down. Suddenly Wolverine stilled, trembling ~Is he wimperin’?~ as his clothing slowly melted away. Finally, he slouched over, lifeless once again. Gambit lay there dumbfounded, staring at Wolverine’s newly nude form then moving his eyes to the floor where the clothing dropped. It formed into a black mass and slithered away.

“Holy shit...”

***********

Storm fumbled around for the light in the bathroom. She turned it on and looked around. ~This is definitely a bachelor pad~ She kicked some clothes out the way and knocked away some used shavers. Then she gripped both sides of the sink and stared into the mirror. She hardly recognized herself. Her left eye was almost swollen shut and her forehead was filled with cut and scrapes. Her hair no longer had that snow white shimmer. It was streaked brown, smothered in dried blood. There was a large cut across her right eye, it was still bleeding. So was her nose. She had irritated it with all her crying. Her right cheek was also swollen and her lip was busted. ~How could Peter even look at me?~ Her neck was purple and blue. From being choked over and over. Storm grabbed the hems of her robe tight, bracing herself. Then she dropped it to the ground.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There were random cuts shaped like an “X” all over her body. She ran her hand over her left breast and winced. It had swelled up a size bigger than her right and was still very sensitive. There was a giant “C” shaped welt around the nipple. She moved her hand to her right breast and nearly cried out as a sharp pain came from right underneath, on the ribcage. ~Hopefully its bruised, not broken~. Her stomach was covered with deep red slash marks. Thank goodness they weren’t any lower. She remembered putting her hands over that area out of instinct. Her hands had to pay the price however. She was sure all her fingers on her left hand were broken. Peter had wrapped them for her. ~Atleast I still have them all~ She looked down and saw that she had identical slash marks on her thighs. Wolverine’s voice filled her ears. “I’m gonna miss getting some o’ that every night. What a got damn waste.” He pressed her legs open and slowly dragged his claws from her outer thigh to her inner thigh, a thin line of red following the trail...Storm shut her eyes tight, trying to hold back more tears. She had cried enough. It was time to figure out the situation and see the best way to go about it. Starting with analyzing her condition.

She continued down her body. Her left knee was busted, and both of her legs were badly bruised and caked in dried blood. ~His or mine?~ She looked down and her freshly wrapped feet. Wolverine’s voice returned. “You were worthless anyway, you know that? Gumbo coulda had ya fer all I care. I just wanted an excuse to beat his ass too. Personally I don’t know what he saw in a piece o’ shit like you. Obviously you weren’t letting him have any, so why did the bastard keep tryin’? Yer all so gotdamn pitiful…how can you live like that?” Before his words could register, Storm felt his claws stab right through her shoes to her feet. She had cried out only to be punched unconscious. Right before she blacked out she saw Wolverine get knocked across the street by a white blur. ~Spiderman’s webbing. He saved my life~

Storm couldn’t take the returning memories anymore. She slumped to the ground and clutched the side of the bathtub. Tears flooded her eyes and she couldn’t hold them back anymore. With a bruised ear she heard Peter approach. She must look hideous She realized she was still naked but she didn’t care. Rain fell gently outside. Peter slowly walked over leaned down next to her. He hesitantly rubbed her back then reached over her to turn on the bathwater. He had a towel and soap in his hand and gently laid them on her lap, blushing as his hand brushed against her inner thigh. “I got you some clean clothes. Hopefully they fit. Just try to relax right now ok? When you’re finished, we can talk. I think I found out something.”

“K.” was all Storm could muster through her sobs. She looked up at him and gave a weak smile. He returned it and walked out the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.


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

“Rogue?”

“Mmm...what’s goin’ on? Where am I?”

“It’s Charles. You’re safe. You’re back at the school. You’re in the infirmary.”

“...Professor? Where’s Remy?”

“We’re not sure yet, Rogue. We’re hoping you could help us locate him and the others.”

“Wait...what’s the big idea? I’m not supposed to be here! They’re still out there! We gotta help ‘em!!

“Yes, I know Rogue. Please calm down. You were hurt pretty badly when we found you. You had to regain your strength and also we had to make sure you weren’t carrying anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Like what?! Is that why Cyclops hit me? What gives Professor?”

“Yes, I’m very sorry about that Rogue. When they found you, you were acting very hysterical. Scott was just taking precaution. We had to be sure. You had potential for carrying the alien symbiote”

“So are ya sure enough now? We need ta be out there searchin’ for mah Remy!”

“Of course Rogue. But we can’t rush into it like we did before. Just look at the results. It was right in front of us. We have to analyze the situation first so we can figure out the best way to go about it.”

“We’re wastin’ time! I know where they are, Professor. I seen what happened. Storm is with that spider guy, he promised to keep her safe while I contacted you for help. And I meant for you to go there not for me to come here!!! And who knows what they’re doing to him…”

“Who’s they? I thought it was Wolverine that attacked you.”

“Well he did but then... I was charging at him when this...this “black light” came outta nowhere and knocked me right into the ground. Knocked me down hard too, took me a good minute ta regain maself. When I looked up...”

“...yes Rogue? Keep going please.”

“When I looked up..I saw Remy, he wasn’t movin’, bein’ pulled into tha black light. I tried Professor, I tried to save him..but I couldn’t move..I..”

“I understand Rogue, I know this is difficult. I’m very sorry about how things turned out. But right now I need you to be strong and tell me everything you remember. It will be very useful in locating them and helping them. Where was Wolverine during all this?”

“Who gives a flying fuck about that bastard!! Hope he was dying..”

“Rogue please.”

“...He was taken too. Whatever the thing was it left me, Storm, and Spider guy alone. I was finally able ta move and I ran over ta Storm. Professor, if only you’d seen what he did ta her. She was out cold when I reached her. Spider told me he could take her somewhere safe just in case Wolverine returned. I told him I would go contact you for help. That’s when Jean, Beast, and Cyclops came in...and knocked me senseless! What a whole lot that accomplished!”

“Like I said before we had to make sure you weren’t the one carrying it Rogue. Remember we had no word that it was with Wolverine at the time..Uunngh..!”

“Professor?! What’s wrong? Are you ok?!”

“It’s...Wolverine...somehow...he’s...contacting...me...?”

“Well? What the hell does he gotta say?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gambit still couldn’t take his eyes off the spot where the clothes fell, afraid he might faint. His mind was racing. He had no idea what to make of what he just saw. Over to his side, Wolverine was stirring, mumbling things like “Stop! Why are you doin’ this to me? Or “No! I can’t!” His pleading cries almost made Gambit feel sorry for him. He had never seen Wolverine this vulnerable before. But he knew better. Wolverine couldn’t be trusted. He shut his eyes real tight and emptied his mind, focusing really hard on the emotions pouring from his fellow captive. His empathic powers were still alittle new to him but with Professor Xavier’s help he had learned to focus on one person or shut everyone out as he pleased. Gambit winced as feelings of deep fear and loathing came over him. But even worse was the underlying emotion of intense, uncontrollable rage. Not only had he sensed this in Wolverine before but it took him right back to that very night, when Wolverine’s rage hit Gambit so hard he felt like he had just taken a cannon ball to the chest That night when everything changed. Suddenly Gambit opened his eyes and shook his head. The rage was too much to take. He took another look at the angry soul next to him. ~I gotta wake him up.~ Probably not the best idea but Gambit needed answers and this was the only way. ~He’s chained down anyway. And I still have my powers.~ “Logan! Wake up! Wake the fuck up!”

Wolverine stirred alittle more but didn’t open his eyes. “Please...don’t make me do this..Ro... Professor, help me, I can’t move...”

“Logan!! Can you hear me? You gotta snap out of it!!” Suddenly Gambit felt Wolverine’s emotions turn from fear and rage, to confusion.

Wolverine opened his eyes. Logan? Did somebody just call his name? His eyes felt so heavy like he hadn’t opened them in ages and all his limbs were asleep. He slowly looked around. Finally he found the source of the voice. Gambit?
“What the hell?”

“It’s no use mon ami. Dese chains are reinforced with some kinda alien metal. I can’t ignite it. Even dat adamantium of yours can’t help. Dey made sure of dat. Are you ok?” Gambit decided not to mention anything, in hopes that Logan would explain first.

“Don’t get all sentimental on me Bub. This situation is already fucked up as it is. Where the hell are our clothes?”

“They must’ve ran off.”

“What the fuck is goin’ on here Gumbo? Why are we chained here like this? We been abucted er somethin’?” In his head, Wolverine was seeing flash images of his teammates being slaughtered. His quick scan of Gambit’s bruised body revealed some truth. He braced himself for Gambit’s answer, but he still wasn’t prepared for it.

“I was hopin’ you could tell me.”

“What?”

“It was you Wolverine. You da reason why we’re here.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about Cajun? Quit beatin’ around and tell me what the fuck happen!”

“I don’t know what the fuck happened. One minute you’re beaten the shit out of all of us den the next minute we be here.”

“Wait a minute. Me? I was what? Yer not makin’ sense. Yer talkin’ outta yer ass...”

“You don’t remember anything do you?”

Logan remembered. He just didn’t want to believe it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three months earlier.

It hurt everytime. He expected to be used to the pain by now. But everytime his flesh was ripped open to free the adamantium claws he almost wanted to cry out. And this time Logan wasn’t even able to brace himself. The rage that triggered it came sudden and unexpected. For a minute he feared he had lost control. His primal instincts were telling him that he was in danger of losing his mate. And he was not going to allow it. All his defenses were up and he was ready to fight for her. Ready to kill.

“Logan, calm down. You’re overreacting. It’s not what you think.”


“Then tell me what the fuck I should be thinkin’ Ro.” The demand came out as a growl through clenched teeth. Ororo could barely make it out but she already knew she had some explaining to do. There was a showdown in her bedroom. Remy stood directly across from Logan, meeting his eyes and not moving. Ororo looked from Logan to Remy and noticed Remy’s fists were shaking. There was fear in his eyes. Ororo knew it wasn’t Logan’s “attack mode” appearance that was scaring him. Remy had seen it many times in the Danger Room and even knew how Logan would attack based on his stance. But there was something underneath the surface. Something that Remy was sensing in Logan with his empathic powers that had the Cajun’s skin turning pale. ~Oh Goddess, what have I done?~ Logan was so unpredictable and Ororo could only imagine the intense feelings that Gambit was picking up right now. He almost looked like he was struggling to stay upright.

“Logan please, listen to me-“

“Yeah, sure. Right after I make real gumbo outta this backstabbin’ motherfucker...”

“No Logan please!! Listen to me. Nothing happened! He only came to talk. That’s it.” Remy just stood there, listening to Ororo’s pleas, unable to talk in his own defense. He knew the truth. He also knew it would only piss Logan off even more.

“Oh really? That’s quite some fuckin’ talent you got there, to be able to talk with yer mouths joined together like that. And what were ya doing with yer hands then? Signin’?”

Ororo’s main focus was to keep Logan talking until he calmed down but it wasn’t meant to be. Remy had tried so hard not to laugh at Logan’s comment but he let out a smirk anyway. Logan stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Then he retracted his claws and charged. Remy knew which side he was coming from and immediately lunged to the left, sending Logan flying into a dresser. Logan quickly shook it off and speared Remy right onto the bed, catching him offguard as he tried to shut out the feelings of rage that Logan was releasing. Remy managed to grab Logan’s fists as they came swinging down, only to be savagely kicked between the legs. “Time to get ‘em back down to size Bub!” Logan finally got a fist free and connected it with Remy nose. Blood sprouted everywhere as the Cajun gasped, grabbing the nearest thing, a pillow, and igniting it. In his delirium, Remy threw the burning pillow at Logan’s head, catching his hair on fire and burning his face. Logan jumped back, clawing at his face and hair while Remy lunged forward and sidekicked him in the face, knocking him off the bed. Remy only had a second to rest before the whole bed was lifted up and slammed against the wall. Remy’s shoulder hit the wall with a sickening pop and he spilled over the side of the crushed bed. Neither man was aware of the large storm that was brewing outside; their main focus was on each other. Remy clutched his dislocated shoulder and scooted back up to his feet, using the wall for support. He never made it however, because Logan grabbed him by the neck and commenced to slamming his head over and over. Remy was going in and out of consciousness, and out of instinct he grabbed Logan’s shirt and ignited it. In his rage, Logan barely noticed his condition until his whole upper body was on fire.

He let Remy go and staggered back towards the balcony. Remy watched with squinted eyes, trying to focus. What he saw would haunt him indefinitely. Logan just stood there, on fire, blood trickling down his forehead adding to his look of pure madness. But his eyes revealed something else. His eyes revealed his pain. Not from his flesh being set ablaze but the inner pain of betrayal, and defeat. For a second Remy was convinced that Logan wanted to just stand there and burn, hoping the physical pain would overpower the pain inside. But then Logan came charging at him once more. Had it not been for the deafening thunder and the sound of fire roaring in his ears, Logan would’ve heard a soft, pained voice mutter “I love you Logan. I’m so sorry.”

A bolt of lightning came through the side window and sent Logan flying through the balcony doors. The storm outside slowly subsided and Ororo ran to the balcony to locate Logan. He was sprawled out on the grass right outside the mansion gates, not moving. She then went back inside and pushed the bed out of the way to get to Remy, who was out cold. She started to check his wounds but immediately her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t see clearly anymore. It rained lightly outside now. She knew her fellow X-Men had heard all the commotion and were headed to her room so she left Remy to their aid and ran back out to the balcony, conjuring winds to carry her to the ground below. She landed and ran blindly towards to the gate, slipping on the rain-soaked concrete. She didn’t know what to expect when she got there but she didn’t care. She just wanted so badly to find Logan and beg him for forgiveness and wrap her arms around him. ~Why did it have to turn out this way, Goddess? Why must my mistakes cause such suffering to those I love?~ Ororo reached the gate and in her desperation, she tried to yank open the bolted gate door. But it was all in vain.

Logan was gone.

TBC

~three months earlier continued~

“Hey Jake, it’s almost closing time. I want you to get these guys outta here.”

Jake continued wiping the shot glass he was cleaning and stared at his coworker. “And where the fuck are you goin’?”

“Anniversary. My old lady’s waitin’ on me. It's been months, if ya know what I mean.” His coworker winked at him as he headed out the door. “Make sure you lock everything up before you go.” Jake waved him off and surveyed the room. He counted four guys he might have to deal with. His eyes settled on the massive form sitting at the end of the bar. He had reddish-blonde hair, blue jeans, and a black shirt that barely contained all his muscles. He was staring intently at the TV. He had been there since Jake clocked in, 6 hours ago, and never stopped staring at the TV. Every hour he told Jake to change the channel to a different news station. He was looking for something. Jake looked at the name on the guy’s tab. Brock. He had ordered a ton of beers since Jake came into the bar. ~Hope I don’t have to deal with him at closing time~ Jake was just about to yell “Last Call!” when another figure came in the door. He slowly dragged his feet to the counter, as if every movement was causing him pain. He flopped down on the nearest seat and muttered an order for a beer. Jake took a deep breath, slightly puffing out his huge chest and clinching his fists to enhance his muscular look. He leaned over the counter until he was right in the guy’s face. “Hey man, it’s all packed up. We’re closed. And plus no shirt, no service-”
The guy looked down at his bare chest, as if just realizing he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His movement caused his dog tag to rattle on the chain. He grabbed it with one hand and swiftly shot his other hand out to grab Jake’s collar.

“I said, give me a fuckin’ beer. I’m just passin’ through.”
Before he realized it, Jake found himself in the back, re-opening a case of beer. He silently cursed himself for being intimidated. Jake was almost twice the size as that “rude little shit” that just walked in. That’s why he had been hired for the night shifts. He was the one to kick out all the drunken bastards that didn’t want to cooperate. But there was something about this guy. Something about the look in his eyes that shook Jake to the core. Not one to mess with. ~He did say he was just passing through. I guess I can let him alone.~

Jake took another deep breath and headed back up front with the beers. Two guys were gone. One guy stood by the door, staring at his cell phone. Left at the counter were Brock and the dark-haired guy that just walked in. They were both now staring at the TV. The blonde guy grinned. Seemed he finally found what he was looking for.

“This Jane Stillman, reporting live from the scene of the murder. It appears that the victim in this case was indeed a mutant.”

Brock snickered while the dark-haired guy snarled.

“The body was found in an alley at six a.m. this morning. The limbs had been severed and the face was “clawed” beyond recognition. Also, his brain, as described from various eyewitnesses, was...brutally removed. The only part that was kept intact was the chest, in which a giant “X” was painted in blood.”

Jake shuddered at the mind picture. This horrendous act happened at six in the morning. Why were they just now showing it so late at night? ~Because the victim was a mutant,~ Jake decided. He watched the news enough during his bar shifts to know that during the day, mutants on the news were portrayed only as the “bad guys”. Murders, robberies, rapes, all crimes seemed to be caused by mutants nowadays. Only at night did the media finally succumb to the truth and show everything. But usually that was only when human witnesses were involved.

“Witnesses say they saw the victim the night before, when he made a scene in front of a local telephone booth. Apparently he was making a call when another man approached and began yelling and making obscene gestures at the victim. The two men exchanged heated words which escalated into physical blows until a policeman arrived and broke them up. The victim wasn’t seen alive again and his accomplice has yet to be found or identified. So far the only lead police have is the telephone records from the public phone. It appears the victim was making a call to the Xavier Institute in Manchester, New York right before the altercation that might have lead to his demise.”

Everyone’s attention was suddenly broken with a hard smack on the table by the big blonde guy. “Finally! Took ‘em long enough!”

He took his beer in one hand, toasted the air in front of him, and took a long drink. Jake gaped at him. Is he actually celebrating the mutant’s death? ~No haters in my bar~. “Hey fellas, it’s closing time now. Get the fuck out.”

“I’ll leave when I’m good and fuckin’ ready. It’s time to celebrate right now. Give me another fuckin’ beer.”

Jake stared at Brock in disbelief. He hadn’t been a problem all day. But now the alcohol finally got to him. Revealed him for what he really was. Jake looked at the other two guys too, who didn’t seem to be moving either. He reached under the counter and grabbed his shotgun. He had had enough. “I said get the fuck out. And I mean it.” The man with the cellphone quickly exited the door and the dark-haired man tossed down a tip and slowly got up. Brock, however, stayed and stared into Jake eyes, with amusement. “You fuckin’ feel sorry for that mutant bastard on TV don’t ya? Well mark my words, the world is better off without him. Without all of ‘em.”

“Wanna run that bullshit by me again bub?”

All eyes turned to the dark-haired man, who was now standing near the door. He stopped and turned around, facing Brock with his fists clenched. Jake froze as he watched the confrontation unfold. Brock smirked at his response. “And who the fuck are you? Another mutant lover?” Brock jumped up from his spot at the counter and slowly walked towards the dark-haired man. The man frowned. “Wanna make something of it?”

“Yeah, the worlds better off without you fuck-offs too-“

“HEY! I said get the fuck out of my bar. Take that shit outside!” Both men turned towards Jake, snarling. Brock snapped, he triggered it all. “Oh no, this includes you too motherfucker!” Before Jake could register what he just said, Brock was jumping over the counter and punching him to the ground. ~What the hell?! His speed…I didn’t even see…!~ Those were Jake’s last thoughts before he lost consciousness. Brock beat him relentlessly until…”Hey asshole, why don’t you bring some of that over here!” Brock stopped and looked up. His fists were bloody...


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

The woodsy area that surrounded the bar was usually peaceful, quiet. It's what drew the business. But tonight's setting was rudely interrupted by the sound of a body flying through a broken window. Brock's body to be exact. A short feral man with adamantium claws soon came out after. Brock was hardly dazed, hopping to his feet to deliver an upper cut. He caught the Wolverine in mid-battlecry and made him do something he'd never done before. Bite off his own tongue.
Fuck, it stung. Itched like hell growing back in. Distracting. Staggering back, Logan spat out a wad of blood(and his old tongue) on the ground. This crazed maniac was going to be a challenge. Good. He had some frustration to vent. Slicing him up didn't really seem appealing. Logan wanted to pound Remy's....Brock's face into the back of his skull. He retracted his claws and commenced to doing just that. Brock wasn't such an easy target. Logan assumed he was human, but humans couldn't move that fast. Humans couldn't punch that hard either. There was no time to think about his moves. Both men came at each other in a blur of fists and blood. Logan felt like he was attacking a reinforced brick wall, sure that this guy Brock probably felt the same. He sacrificed some severely scraped fingers just to get good hits in, making his healing factor work overtime. When a fist came back at him, Logan noticed all the man's fingers were broken. His knuckles were bleeding raw almost to the bone. ~This man couldn't be human. A traitor? Maybe he's posessed.~
As if to confirm his thoughts, Brock suddenly took on a dark complexion. Logan's sensitive ears picked up a voice like whispering wind. ~Ssstop it. Too much damage. Uselessss.~ None of this seemed to stop Brock. Logan was caught offguard by the voice and a mind numbing blow sent him on his back on the ground. Brock put everything he had into that hit and was now clutching a dislocated arm. He straddled Logan, against protests from 'the voice'. ~Sstop. Too sstrong. Ssso much anger...Wait.~ Logan stared up at the man, realizing that Brock was speaking these words himself. To himself. His face seemed to be stretching. He was foaming at the mouth as he leaned closer to Logan. Inspecting him? It was uncomfortable, to say the least. Logan could only hope he was attempting a headbutt. "Sorry bub, I don't know you well enough yet. Why don't you tell me why you wanna kill your own kind?"
Brock...or the now slimy black thing on top of him paused, then laughed. His speech produced two tones at once. The whisper, and a disturblingly low croak, formerly Brock's voice. "I won't be compared to mutated scum on earth." His hand slithered (Slithered?!) around Logan's just as he unsheathed his claws to pierce Brock's heart. He had decided this thing needed to die, whatever it was. A sickening sound decided otherwise. Logan cried out at his arm was literally ripped and twisted backward, as far as his adamantium skeleton would allow. Brock-It's expression stretched into a smile that took up it's entire face, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth. "Your resilience is fascinating." He let Logan's arm flop to the ground and watched it heal with some sort of sick glee. Logan was seething. Tonight was not his night at all. He just lost his woman, possibly his place at the mansion, just to run into some sick superhuman motherfucker. The way he was being restrained was wrong on so many levels. Brock's limbs melted into black...stuff, holding him down like handcuffs. "This one is weak and broken, too long to repair. But you are....instant. You turned his anger into fear. I hate the taste of it. I've lost more hosts this way..." Logan wasn't listening to his freakish babble; he was trying desperately to pull himself from this slimy grip. "You have so much anger now, it's blinding you...mmm."
"Oh..no...fuck," Logan strained his neck to the side, disgusted, trying to avoid the elongated tongue that was now licking his face. It was only pissing him off more, and seemed to make this thing stronger. "With you, I can fulfill my purpose. Yesss..." The thing's grip loosened, and Logan took his chance. He forced his limbs from the restraints with a growl. Suddenly, a flash of black whipped across his neck. A single red line formed and Logan's eyes bulged, clutching at his neck as blood squirted forth. The black form seemed to shrink and pulse, absorbing any blood that landed on it. It then made a beeline for Logan's neck, squeezing in between his quivering fingers. This one had something special inside, a skeleton made of unbreakable metal, and the alien symbiote would attach itself to that instead of pathetic flesh. Logan let out a hoarse cry, feeling a familiar pain of something fusing to the inside of his body. The symbiote was now inside, Logan's neck healed, and he felt a sudden state of calm. His anger and shock were unnaturally dissappearing.
That is, until he realized Brock was laying on top of him, unconscious. Logan scowled, quickly pushing the man to the side. The blond haired man had possibly broken every bone in his body. Logan gave him another kick as he stood up, straightening himself out. "Ah, that felt good." He looked around his surroundings. The place seemed deserted. Besides Brock, Logan sniffed another bloody body inside the bar. That stupid bartender. This had to be one of the wilds bar fights Logan had gotten himself into. Brock had been a raging maniac, but Logan eventually got him. A few good punches and he was out. That was the end, right?
Right. Maybe he'd go to a few other bars and start some more fights while he was in the mood. Maybe go back to the mansion and have his way with that easy weather broad. She'd do anything for him now that she screwed up. And fuck up that swamp rat while he was at it. Anything to keep this rush he was feeling. The healing mutant gave a half smile. Things were finally looking up.

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

“He’s coming back, Ororo. Don’t worry.” Ororo shook her head, holding her hand lightly over her mouth. The whole night they managed not to talk about it, but Ororo realized her crappy mood was bringing down everyone in the room. Rogue's demeanor worried her the most. Jean finally said something, but Ororo retorted with- “He‘s deeply wounded, Jean. You don’t understand. He won’t return until he’s healed and can prove himself to his mate. If he even decides to take her back…”

“Geez, I feel like I’m watching the Discovery Channel.”

“Jubilee!” Jean snapped at the little Chinese-American girl, who was eating from a tub of ice cream. She smiled innocently in return. “Wolvie will be back. He loves us too much to stay away.”

Ororo shook her head again, leaning against her dresser. So much for an all girls slumber party in the attic, Jean’s idea. It had been a month since the incident and she was trying her best to keep Ororo distracted and thinking positive, but it wasn’t that easy. Ororo only kept her emotions in check for the sake of everyone else. But there was nothing really to be done for her.

Rogue lay in the middle of the bed, idly curling her hair around her fingers. She hadn’t said a word since Jean invited her. “Ok! New subject!” Jean called out. “What else can we talk about?”

“Sex!”

“Jubilee…”

“What? I’m serious…I need to know these things, and you guys need teach me. It’s your job as my teachers. You don’t want me to make a mistake and mess up my life, do you? It’s not like you don’t have the experience…” Jubilee heard a snicker behind her on the bed, and suddenly felt guilty. “Oh, Rogue…I didn’t mean…I’m sorry I just…”

“It’s alright.” Rogue finally spoke, smiling. “You actually made me laugh, sugah, which I ain’t done in a while now.” She eyed Storm. “Besides, just because I can’t touch nobody don’t mean I don’t know nothin’.” She propped herself up on her elbows, smirking at Jubilee. “Whatcha wanna know?”

Jubilee shrugged, looking around the room at all the women. They were all so amazing and had their own story to tell. Jubilee wondered if she’d ever be in their position some day. “Well…like, how does it feel, you know? I heard it hurts the first time, and you have to figure out exactly where everything goes, so it gets awkward…” She really hoped someone else would start talking now.

“Well, my first time with Scott was hardly awkward. He’s definitely a leader, in every aspect.” Jean grinned, biting her lip, then clearing her throat to speak again. “If you really love each other, every moment you make love will be a cherished moment, whether it seems awkward or not. It’s what the two of you share, and it’s special, anyway you look at it.”

Jubilee blinked. “So Scott had it down the first time, huh? No condom mishaps or sticking things in the wrong hole…”

“JUBILEE!”

“What?”

Rogue laughed once more. Jean’s face flushed, but she managed to calm down. “First of all, for your information, Scott wasn’t a virgin when I married him, so no, nothing like that. And second, I won’t be telling any intimate stories, so if that’s what you’re looking for, then we can have another change of subject.” Jubilee pouted, looking over at Storm. The white haired woman had been awfully quiet through all this. “Miss Munroe? Any advice?”

Ororo rubbed her arm and looked up, half smiling at Jubilee. “It’s like what Jean said. When you’re in love, everything else comes naturally. The both of you will fit together like you were made for each other. And when you become one, the bond you make is unbreakable."
Rogue suddenly sounded like she was choking. Everyone froze, watching Rogue carefully. She was laughing. "Aww, Stormy, that's so sweet." Though she was still chuckling, her voice took on something cold and dark. She called Ororo 'Stormy' to mock Remy's nickname for her, basically spitting out the word. "I'm glad you got to become one with someone, that must be nice...." Rogue had an open door, which she'd clearly been waiting for. Not the best time, but hell, she was taking it.
Ororo looked taken aback. "Rogue, it wasn't my intention to offend you. I'm sorry if I did." Rogue kept chuckling, but it sounded forced. Jubilee was freaked out now, staring at Rogue. Jean looked on with fierce concentration. The tension she sensed between Ororo and Rogue reached screaming heights. The friendly environment she had tried to fabricate only made things worst. Rogue held a pillow up to her chest, contently observing the indentions she made while she poked it. She kept speaking as if she hadn't heard what Ororo just said. "Becoming one with more than one person at the same time, must be even better, right? Especially someone that's frustrated from not bein' able to bond with his own girl, 'less he wants to die, if you know what I mean. Good thing there's a kind Storm to take of that need."


"........I won't ask you to sympathize with the situation I'm in right now, especially since you obviously have your own ideas. But I'm not going to stand here and let you accuse me of something I didn't do. You should have come to me earlier about something like this, in private. Have you even talked to Remy?" The Weather goddess watched Rogue with wide eyes.
~Remy, huh? How affectionate~ Rogue slowly stood from the bed, pillow still in her hand, returning Ororo's look. "I don't even like hearing his name come out of your damn mouth." Jean suddenly intervened. "Rogue! This is sensitive situation. You're only making it worse with your irrational behavior. There's more to this than your suspicions of Ororo and Remy, and Ororo is not the one to take it all out on." Jean looked more nervous than anything. She did an emergency scan of thoughts in the room, and nothing was positive. Rogue pretended that the comments about physical contact didn't bother her, but it really added to the pain she was already feeling. Since the night Logan left, Remy had been acting strange toward Rogue, toward everyone. She was sure something had happened between him and the weather witch he always cared about so much. Rogue held Logan in higher esteem than Storm and believed he had a valid reason for causing the havoc he did. Storm was the logical one to blame for everything.
The accused didn't have much better thoughts. While Logan was in most of them, there were also disturbing images of Rogue drowning or being electrocuted.. Both women were in a fragile state of mind right now. Even worse, one of Ororo's thoughts seemed to confirm what Rogue was blaming her for.
Jean wouldn't believe it. Something was definitely wrong.
Jubilee...well Jubilee had an 'interesting' mind picture of Rogue and Storm in a WWE ladies match, wrestling in a giant shallow vat of chili cheese fries. With Remy and Logan on either side of the ring in red bikini briefs, cheering them on. Storm had a mohawk. Eh... "Jubilee, sorry about this. I think you might want to excuse yourself.. Please shut the door behind you. "

TBC