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~~~~

They were torturing him again. He bit back a scream as he felt a strip of flesh being peeled from his back, the sickening wet sound echoing in his ears. Laughter. Cold and detached. They were enjoying this, enjoying his pain, his grunts of agony. But he wouldn’t scream, he wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Fuckers. Another long strip torn away.
The room was spinning, tilting and he was suddenly falling, landing with a thud, his body jarring on impact. They were dropping him again, to see if there was a limit to the height he could fall from and survive. None so far. Faceless soldiers approached. -SNIKT- Gutted. Dead. Gunfire and pain. Black void.
He was in a fluid filled tank his body arching in tremendous agony. Voices. Fusion? Adamantium. Holding steady. Pain. Burning. Violation.
The helmet on his head filling his mind with savage images, death, torture, rape. He tried to fight, he wasn’t this way, he wasn’t an animal, he was a man. A man. A man.
Pain. Injections. Lust. Fear. Rage. Fear. Pain. Needles. Laughter. His.
Animal. Savage beast. Killer. Hunter. He gloried in it, relished the screams of his victims, the smell of their fear. His blades were sinking deep, through tissue and bone, into vital organs, a low gurgle of blood in the throat let him know his victim would soon be dead, but not too soon. Slow, unstoppable, miserable death. He drew back, savage smile, blood dripping from his hands.
Faceless victims, faceless keepers, faceless enemies. He fell to his knees. Not me, not me, not me. Not an animal. Not an animal.
Cold steel tables. Incisions, probes. Hooks and wires. Blades. Dark eyes over a surgical mask. Cornelius.
Cages and pain. Needles and pain. Blood and pain. Hate. Hurt. Fear. Hate. Hurt. Rage. Blood. Death. Blood. Screams. Blood. Death. Blood. Screams. Escape. Freedom. Caged. Locked. Tortured. The helmet. Fear. Hate. Rage. Lust.
-SNIKT-
~~~~

“Logan…?” Ororo touched his shoulder. He had awakened her, thrashing in the bed, broken sounds coming from him.
Wolverine lifted his head, and for a brief moment Ororo swore his eyes flashed red in the dark. His lips curled back as he stared at her, snarling in a guttural way she had never heard before. She was reaching for him again when he grabbed her wrists painfully and pinned her to the bed forcibly. He growled at her like a demon possessed, and she could see no recognition in his eyes, no trace of the man she loved, only the wild fury of his inner beast.
Wolverine sniffed. His mind was clouded, a red haze of rage and…need. Suddenly he removed his hands from her wrists, -SNIKT- and her nightgown was gone. He restrained her hips with bruising force, holding her still as he thrust into her, tearing her tender passage. He buried himself as deeply as he could, ripping her with his savage movements. He held her firm as she tried to slide away, his thrusts violent.
Ororo’s shocked cry was muffled against his shoulder. He seemed not to hear, lost in whatever darkness had claimed him well he slept. The scent of blood, mingled with her scent drove the beast in him mad with lust, feeding his red haze of need, triggering every bestial and predatory instinct he had.
Ororo struggled futilely against him. He was hurting her, his strength terrifying, he was stretching her, tearing her. “Stop,” she sobbed. His hands gripped her fiercely, his teeth moving over her, everywhere it seemed, biting and marking. Low, deep growls of warning rumbled from his throat as she struggled. The more she tried to move away from him, the more brutal he became, seeking domination. He jerked her legs wider apart, baring his teeth at her as he proceeded to fuck her.
She felt his hand tangle in her hair scant seconds before he forced her head back. Pain, hot and burning sliced through her as his teeth clamped on her neck, his canines piercing deep. She cried out in protest, but he held her head to the side and pinned her down easily beneath his superior weight, keeping her open and vulnerable while he took his pleasure, his base grunts sounding in her ear. Her blood flowed freely from the wound on her neck and as he tasted the spicy essence his body drove into hers over and over, harder and deeper, harder and faster.
He had never known such pleasure. Her blood filling his mouth, her body tight and hot. The smell of sex and blood teasing his nostrils. Rapture. He was wild, seeking more, needing more, he’d never get enough of her. More. He surged harder, his fingers now locked on her hips, bruising her. Harder. More. Faster. More.
Logan no longer existed. The raging beast in his place was killing her, using her body without his usual tender care, without feeling, without love, only seeking to dominate her.
The room was blurring and Ororo knew she was weak from losing so much blood. She could feel herself slipping away, her mind and body becoming numb as her husband pounded into her, tearing at her, biting her. She accepted this from him because she knew he was not in control and she worried for him. He had endured so much, too much, pain and she knew he had tried to keep it locked inside for so long. He had walked the line between man and animal for so long, his sheer will power keeping him from falling into madness. Logan. Her love, her life, her other half. He thought himself a soulless monster, a wild beast devoid of feeling, but she knew better. He felt, felt with an intensity like no other. He had held out so long against the darkness that those Weapon X monsters had put in him, and it pained her to see him lost as he was now, trapped in his own private hell. Ororo closed her eyes, willing herself to relax, accepting him as he was.
Her fingers found the silken, sweat dampened hair at the nape of his neck, and she stroked it with familiar tenderness, forcing her own pain from her mind, focused on seeing him through. Wolverine. The wild one. Dark. Savage. Lawless and feared. Always alone. No longer, she thought. She would not let him face this alone, she would stay with him as long as she could, warding off the chill in her body and the tremors that shook her from loss of blood.
She bit her lip as his teeth sank into the tender swell of her breast, but she held back the tears. Her hands stroked his wild hair, cradling his head to her breast, giving herself to him. “I’m here…” she whispered. “I love you.”
She felt him tense at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t stop, still taking her with callous aggression. He was snarling, reared back, watching her as he tore into her.
“I belong… to you,” she said brokenly. “And you…to me… I will not let you face the darkness alone, Logan. I am giving myself to you, husband, so do not… condemn yourself… when this is over. You have done nothing wrong.” Her breathing was shallow now, making it hard to talk.
He continued to move within her, but she felt a subtle shift, like he was trying to find himself, to fight his way back to her. She moved against him slowly, trying to coax him back to her, slowing their momentum. “Can you feel me, Logan?” She moved again. She was weak and lethargic but she refused to give up until he was back. She moved her hands along his shoulders, cradling his jaw, forcing his head up, meeting the molten silver of his feral gaze unflinchingly. “The darkness can’t have you, Logan,” she rasped. “You belong to me.” He roared at her, and briefly she saw a flash of recognition. He jerked out of her, roughly flipping her onto her stomach, taking her from behind. Ororo cried out at his brutal entry, too weak to move away from him. He fisted her hair, biting her shoulder. She closed her eyes, a single scalding tear slipping past. He was increasing momentum now, his grunts and pants more urgent. He was close, she knew. A broken cry escaped her as he thrust one hand between her legs, stroking her, then lifting his bloodied fingers to his lips. Using the last of her energy she whispered to him. “I am yours in all ways. You are my heart, Logan. I accept you in all forms…even this one…feel no shame, love…I am with you.”
Ororo. In the deep red haze Logan heard her speaking. She sounded far away, but he heard her, calling to him, bringing him back from the dark and into the light. Finally, the beast roared, shuddering a forceful climax, emptying himself into the body in front of him. His breathing was ragged and painful, torn from deep inside.
Several minutes passed as he was slowly regaining himself, unsure of his surroundings. Logan raised his head and a sound of terrible anguish tore from his throat. Ororo lay limply on the bed, bruised and scratched, several ragged bite marks marring the creamy caramel of her skin. Blood and semen trickled down her thighs and he let out a mournful cry. He rolled her over and caught the back of her head in his palm, fearful of he way her head lolled to the side like a broken flower, revealing a fang slashed wound on her neck.
“Ro…” his voice was hoarse and raw. “Aw, God, baby.” He lifted her against him, her arms falling limp at her sides. He felt his throat close, his entire being focused on the lifeless woman in his arms.
“…Logan…”
He struggled to breathe.
“Love…you…”
Christ. He felt his entire body quake with emotion. He lifted her, carrying her to their bathroom. He gave the faucet handles a viscous twist, filling the tub with hot, steamy water while he tended to the gaping wound at her neck. He was shaken by the similarity between this night and the night Shaw had attacked her. The difference being Shaw hadn’t raped her, he had. His gut clenched and he fought the urge to vomit.
Ororo jerked as he lowered her into the tub, her body raw and wounded. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms about her legs, shivering despite the steamy water. His hands closed helplessly in on themselves. He wanted to ease her, but had no idea how. His chest heaved with each labored breath he took. His beautiful, precious ‘Ro and he had used her. Self loathing swelled.
“Stop it,” she whispered, resting her cheek on her knees, looking at him.
“Don’t.” He said hoarsely. “Don’t try and tell me I’m not an animal, ‘Ro.” He gave her a pained look. “Just look at what I did ta ya. For fuck’s sake I raped you!”
“No.” She shook her. “I gave myself to you.”
“Yes! Only because ya knew I wouldn‘t stop!” He gestured to his still naked form, coated with her blood and his semen. “Look at what I did to--” He dropped to his knees. “What I did…” He lowered his head into his hands, unable to voice more. “How can you look at me?”
“Logan.” She waited for him to look at her. When he didn’t she repeated his name.
“I can’t…” he stood stepping away from the tub. “I can’t be near ya now. Not after what I did ta ya.”
Ororo splashed him angrily. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare walk out that door, Logan!”
She glared at him, and he was amazed that she was completely unafraid of him. He didn’t think he could stand fear in her eyes when she looked at him, but she needed to understand what a brutal monster he was. Her blue eyes fastened on him with unwavering intensity. She rose shakily to her feet, stepping from the tub, closing the small distance separating them, circling his waist with her arms, pressing her cheek to his shoulder.
“I was afraid for you, Logan,” there were tears in her voice, “but not of you. We are a part of each other and I could feel your pain, your inner struggle, just as I feel you now. You are not a monster.”
“Why can’t you see me for what I am?” he demanded. “A fuckin’ animal!”
She slapped him. Hard. “You are my husband. The man I would die for and my best friend. Don’t insult my intelligence by implying I am unable to see what you are. I see you! I see your very soul! You’re the jackass too wrapped up in stupid bullshit to get your head out of your ass and realize what it is you are! What WE are.”
He was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. “Ororo. You don’t know what you’re saying…”
“Wolverine, if you question my lucidity one more time I swear to the Bright lady I will bodycheck you through a fucking wall!”
His jaw dropped. Ororo was pissed. “’Ro, I don’t understand--”
“What’s to understand? I love you. Period. Oh, for crying out loud, a child of five could understand this. Fetch me a child of five!” Her eyes flashed blue-white.
“How can you still love me?” he whispered.
Ororo’s anger seeped from her at his forlorn look. “Wash up and carry me to bed. We’ll talk up there.”
He jerked. “You want to go back up there?”
“Of course I do. I need my bunny slippers.”
Logan washed himself with shaking hands, still in shock over what had occurred. Ororo sat wrapped in a towel, waiting patiently. He turned off the shower, wrapping his own towel about his waist. She looked up at him expectantly. “Ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” She reached for his hand. “We face it together.”
Logan lifted her carefully into his arms and she trustingly laid her head on his shoulder, her arms linking around his neck. He shook with the intensity of his love for her and she whispered soothing sounds into his ear.
At the doorway to their bedroom his steps faltered, his breathing becoming agitated. Ororo smoothed her hand along his shoulders, whispering, “In that room we celebrate our love for each other. That’s the room where you read to me while I sit on your lap. In that room you sing me to sleep. Behind that door lay a thousand beautiful memories, Logan. Remember each one of them now. Remember Christmas morning? Remember Gambit running up the stairs at four in the morning, hopping into our bed like a troublesome boy, demanding to open presents. Remember? Remember picking out the carpet together? I still can’t believe you talked me into blue just because you said it matched my eyes.” She laughed softly. “Remember not having a bed for two days after we broke the last one?” She nuzzled his cheek. “Remember the bawdy little song we sang together after a wild night at Harry‘s?” She pushed open the door with her foot. The bed was in disarray, the comforter and blankets crumpled on the floor. “Remember how you held me our first night here. Remember the poem you wrote me. I never figured you for the type, but it was beautiful. In that bed we share our dreams, our hopes, our bodies and our hearts.” She kissed his cheek. “Take me to our bed, husband.”
Logan walked slowly across the room, his arms tightening on her as the got closer to the bed. “…’Ro…”
“I’m here. We’re together.”
He lowered her slowly after yanking all the covers off, leaving only a sheet and their pillows. She opened her arms. “Come to me.”
He stood frozen at the bedside, staring at her, incredulous at her willingness to even be in the same room with him. She smiled gently, her eyes warming to deep cerulean. “We took vows, Logan. For better or worse. They meant something to me, how about you?”
He lowered himself to the bed, enfolding her in his muscular arms, shaking as he wept. “I’m sorry. So sorry,” he said into her hair. He closed his tightly, his face contorting in pain. “’Roro, I’m so sorry.”
Ororo stroked his hair, holding him as her own tears flowed. She began to whisper softly to him and he recognized the poem he had written her,
“I kneel before you,
Here I am,
My heart laid bare,
You're all that I want
All that I wish to be,

When I struggle,
You are my strength,
Without you,
I can't go on,

I give myself to you,
Only sorry that I am not more,
All my anger and bitterness,
A poison to what you are,
Then night falls on me,
And I can’t let go
With you I am alive,

You constantly ignore the signs,
Fight through the pain consuming me,
You cut deep,
You’ve laid my heart bare,

I can never walk away from you,
My life and soul are yours to command,
I sleep with your hair tangled in my fist,
Moonlight on the soft brown earth,
That’s what it is,
That’s what you are,

Sometimes I can barely make my way through the darkness of my heart,
Then you are there, with your beautiful sky,
The light you bring,
Making it impossible for me to hide,
I hide no more,
My heart is laid bare.”

Slowly the shudders subsided and he took a deep, steadying breath. When he raised damp eyes to hers she leaned forward, kissing him softly, lovingly. “Together we can get through anything,” she said. “Don’t shut me out, Logan. don’t push me away.”
He stroked her cheek, regret in his steel eyes. “I can’t take the chance of hurting you again, ‘Ro.”
Ororo tensed. “I love you. You don’t have to face this alone. I need you. You need me.”
Logan pushed her hair away from her face. “I’ll go make you some tea,” he murmured after a time.
She smiled softly, nodding. “That would be nice.”
In the kitchen Logan stumbled against the counter his grief taking hold. He lowered his head, gritting his teeth against the roar that dwelled in his chest. He was a mother fucker of the worst kind and she still wanted to be with him. He felt sick at what he’d done and despite her obvious forgiveness he was unable to forgive himself.
He put the kettle on, going to the bathroom where he was violently ill. He returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, lifting the kettle mid-whistle, pouring its contents into her favorite jumbo mug.
“Here ya go,” he said softly, his voice still gruff.
“Thanks.” She took the mug and sipped. “We’ll be okay, Logan,” she whispered.
“Sshh, darlin’. Just relax,” he stroked her hair behind her ear.
She gave him a beseeching look. “Hold me?”
Logan nodded, moving to sit with his back pressed to the headboard. She moved between his legs, leaning back against him, slowly savoring the warmth of his body and the soothing effects of the tea. He stroked her hair, murmuring soothingly, encouraging her to finish her drink and rest.
Ororo’s eyelids felt heavy, like they weighed a ton. She struggled to keep them up, her vision blurring. She felt Logan’s lips on her cheek, felt the splash of his tears on her face. She felt him shift beneath her, laying her on the pillows, covering her in the sheet. Her heart crumbled. “You’re… leaving me…aren’t you…” she could barely speak she was so tired. He had put something in her tea, she realized with an agonizing jolt. “Please…stay…”
Logan watched her until she was deep asleep, her soft words echoing in his head. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t put her in that kind of danger again. She deserved better, far better than he could ever be. He packed quickly, taking only some necessities and enough cash to get by for awhile from their wall safe. He stood in the doorway, staring at her over his shoulder. She looked like an angel fallen from heaven, and he was the devil, he thought furiously. “Love ya, ‘Ro.”
Gambit came awake in the attic loft that was once Storm’s, but was now his and Ali’s, when he heard the rumble of a motorcycle engine roaring to life. He walked to the balcony doors just in time to see a lone figure edge past the gates and burn rubber into the night. He gripped the railing, a feeling of dread sinking into him.
“What’s wrong, Yummy?” Ali asked from the bed with a yawn.
“Everyt’in, petite. Everyt’in.”





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