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Part Three The winter was long and lingering, to the point that even the smallest children had lost their fascination with the frequent snowfalls, but it had also been blissfully quiet.

The only activity resembling a mission had been a couple of student pickups and a few consultations with parents - a task that usually fell to Jean, but one which Scott and Ororo now had to take on. She rather thought Kurt would be the best at that sort of thing, but after some convincing reluctantly agreed that sending her dear friend would probably not create the most productive first impression, as ridiculous as that notion seemed to her.

Not much had changed between her and Logan - nothing dramatic or obvious to anyone else, at any rate. Their mutual confessions seemed to have torn down some sort of wall between them, one which Ororo hadn't truly realized had existed, and while nothing like that had happened again, Ororo could not deny that there was ... something deeper between them now. Things were more relaxed. Easier somehow. Sometimes Ororo thought she had never felt so comfortable around another person before, but that thought was more disquieting than anything else, so she tried to simply enjoy their relationship for what it was.

As always seems to happen, however, their winter peace was shattered one bitterly cold morning as Scott called an urgent meeting in the War Room. The sudden call to action - or merely the anticipation of some sort of action - was met with everything from excitement to irritation. Ororo, naturally, hoped whatever issue was at hand could be solved peacefully and easily - the violence was, unfortunately, often necessary, but not preferred.

For Logan, on the other hand, the thought of finally seeing some real action was practically orgasmic - filling the gap by starting brawls in the local bars and beating up Sabretooth wannabes in the Danger Room was starting to lose its charm.

"Thank you all for coming so quickly." Slim stood tall before the small gathering, hands behind his back and exuding all the stern authority that Logan had rebelled against when he first arrived. But instead of being irritated now, he felt almost ... proud? Huh. Weird. But there was no denying that the Cyclops briefing them now wasn't the same Cyclops of six months ago - or even a few weeks ago. Glancing at Ororo, who was elegantly seated in the chair next to his with the Elf perched in his usual spot on its arm, he knew she saw it, too. From Scott's serious tone this was obviously going to be more than a pickup, but she was practically beaming at the fearless leader - she'd once told him Scott had been like a brother to her, especially after she first arrived, and Logan was forced to amend his opinion of the stick-in-the-mud.

Slightly.

And only to himself.

"Some of you are aware of a group of mutants known as the Morlocks." Logan suspected the 'some of you' bit included just Scott and 'Ro, but whatever. "For those of you who are unfamiliar, they choose to make their home in the subway and sewer tunnels underneath the city. Most of them - or at least the ones we've encountered - possess a physical mutation that they believe keeps them from living above ground, among 'normal' society. For some of them, this is literally true." Logan saw Kurt stir out of the corner of his eye, but Scott held up a stalling hand. "We've approached them in the past, offered them a chance to come to the school or at least to accept our assistance, and we were thoroughly rebuked." He gave 'Ro a wry smile.

"They have created their own society down there," Ororo picked up, blue eyes lighting upon each one in turn: Hank, Kurt, even Marie and Bobby now (not a development Logan was particularly keen on). When she met Logan's eyes she offered a fleeting smile, which Logan returned - though it grew more pronounced when he caught Scott looking at him, jaw set in disapproval. "Their own family of sorts. And they are fiercely independent. However, out of necessity they must occasionally visit the surface to steal what they need, and once or twice they have attracted unwanted attention."

Scott nodded sharply. "And now it seems they've attracted the attention of the FoH." He paused for a moment, probably to let that sink in. Logan may not know anything about these Morlocks, but he knew more about that damn hate group than he ever wanted to know. They all did. The ignorant rednecks had grown from an annoyance to a real menace in a disturbingly short amount of time. "As you all know the professor is in Washington now, but this morning he contacted me with some information that came into his possession. It seems the FoH caught one of the Morlocks above ground and got some information out of him before he managed to escape. Now the FOH is planning a strike of some kind, though the professor believes they did not retrieve enough information to know exactly what they're looking for."

"Anything for the chance to blow shit up, eh?" Logan commented, his words a slow drawl.

"More or less. What they seem to have is a suspicion that there is some kind of 'mutant activity' in the tunnels, but no real proof. Apparently they plan on killing first and asking questions later." Scott's lip curled in disgust.

"But if they don't want our help, what're we supposed to?" Rogue spoke up, her softly accented voice catching Scott's attention. Logan may not like her being involved in this shit, but this time there was no denying his pride. The kid was really coming into her own, and he knew he owed 'Ro for helping out with that. "Cheer from the sidelines?"

"What we are hoping to do is divert their attention," Scott explained. "The Morlocks may not ask for or want our assistance, but they're not prepared to take on the FoH - especially when they don't even know they're coming. If all goes well we shouldn't even need to engage - some misdirection, and sooner or later they should get bored and give up."

"They do not seem to be renowned for their superior intellect," Hank agreed.

"So basically our job is to crawl around some sewers and play cleanup crew?" Logan didn't even try to hide his disappointment - he'd been looking forward to gutting some brain-dead, prejudiced pricks.

"Of course it would be easier simply to fight them off, but we don't want to give them any more reason to make a return visit, looking for the mutants who kicked their asses - so, essentially, yes." Scott didn't even try to hide his canary-eating grin. "No one wear their nice shoes."

* * * * *

Logan growled for the hundredth time as he stepped into yet something else that was wet and slimy and probably sentient. His senses in the confined space were going haywire, the barrage of smells and echoing sounds grating his last nerve. And it was even worse that he'd been relegated to fuckin' backup - with Cyclops, of all people. Storm, 'Crawler and Beast were somewhere ahead, trying to head off the pack of FoHers who'd somehow managed to get themselves and a small armory down here in the muck. It hadn't been much of a hunt, either - the assholes had all the subtlety of a Mack truck, hollering at each other and shooting at anything that moved. All Storm had to do was use her winds to discourage progress down certain tunnels, or redirect the Morlocks' scent from the tracking dogs, while the Elf and Beast bounced (or 'ported) around, creating false leads and dead ends. From Storm's whispered reports their efforts were effective if slow, but the FoHers were steadily making their way farther in - if they pushed it too far, he and Cyke would be the first line of defense.

Which of course the Morlocks he and Cyke had talked to - especially some loud-mouth bitch named Callisto - weren't happy about, even if they accepted the help readily enough. Ungrateful bastards.

"Storm says they're getting closer," Cyclops said in a low voice at his shoulder.

"No shit." Logan narrowed his eyes in the darkness, but while he couldn't see anything yet he could hear 'em, all right. Shouts and splashing and curses - sounded like there were a thousand of them down here, even though Storm and the others estimated it at only 20 to 30. "Bout damn time, too. Startin' to get impatient." He felt Cyke's pointed look and grinned, baring his teeth.

Suddenly a strong breeze blasted them from up ahead, surprising them enough to push them back a step. Logan snarled, unsheathing his claws only to pull them back in a second later. It was 'Ro - he caught her unmistakable scent a heartbeat before he saw her, borne by her winds and looking shockingly out of place in these dark, dank tunnels.

"Some of them have retreated." She'd started her report even before she fully landed, and Logan's brow furrowed when she seemed to falter on her feet. "About half. Some push on, but they are discouraged. Nightcrawler and Beast continue to frustrate their efforts."

"Excellent." Scott clasped 'Ro on the shoulder before moving in the direction she'd come, toward the mouth of the tunnel, one hand poised on his visor. Logan moved to follow, but hesitated. Something didn't seem quite right ...

"You doin' OK?" She didn't answer - didn't even meet his eyes, and Logan stepped closer and grasped her arm. "Hey, 'Ro ... look at me. You holdin' up all right?"

He could feel her body trembling beneath his fingers and swore - he had been worried this might happen. Had even tried to talk her out of coming along on this one, which of course had fallen on deaf ears, as he knew it would. But they'd been down here for maybe a couple hours now, and when she didn't seem to be having any problem, Logan had let his guard down.

"I'm all right." Her whispered words were for his ears alone, and Logan glanced up to where Scott stood at the ready, practically invisible in the darkness beyond the faint ruby glow from his visor. Logan would move if he had to, but right now Cyke had it covered.

"No, yer not." In response her body shuddered again and one hand clamped down on his arm. Not for the first time, Logan thought she was a lot stronger than she looked. "But we're almost done here, darlin', then we'll be out in the sun again. Just try to relax."

"Is it smaller back here?" Ororo was still whispering, but her tone had become urgent, breathing more erratic. "It feels like the walls are closing in ... "

Her words didn't surprise Logan, not anymore. He'd heard it all by now. Not long after the night she'd walked in on his little Sentinel session she'd asked him to help her face this thing of hers head-on - and night after night that's exactly what they'd done, speaking of it to no one else. It always ended the same, with Ororo edging toward panic and Logan having to shut down whatever program they were running, but each attempt was better than the last. She couldn't have held herself together this long when they'd started the sessions, but now he could see all the fears she'd managed to hold at bay were threatening to overwhelm her. She'd never really explained to him what it was all about - and Logan didn't push because if he understood anything, it was the need for privacy - but he knew it had to do with her childhood, how her parents had died. And every once in a while, when he got to thinking afterward about what he'd seen and heard, he wondered if having no memory at all was sometimes better than the alternative.

"Walls ain't budgin', 'Ro, I swear it." He thought she might have nodded, but couldn't be sure. "Jus' hold onto this ol' Canuck, and we'll be out of here in no time."

Logan felt the air shift and his body tensed, but out of the familiar burst of rolling smoke not three feet in front of him appeared a clearly agitated Nightcrawler. Cyclops whirled around in alarm, and dimly Logan wondered how close the Elf had just come to getting blasted all the way back to Boston.

"Bombs!" Kurt exclaimed, yellow eyes wide as he gestured back the way he came.

"What?" Cyclops barked.

"Or canisters of some sort." Kurt glanced back at Cyclops, then at Logan and Ororo, his tail lashing the air. "They are giving up, but said something about 'smoking them out.' Hank - I mean, Beast is watching them."

Wolverine growled, his arm tightening reflexively around Ororo. "You think those fuckers would use nerve gas?"

"They can't be that stupid." Cyclops' voice was surprisingly steady. "It could easily get to the surface through the vents, even from here. Who knows how many people that could affect. And any explosion could be devastating."

"But we already know they ain't the brightest bulbs." Logan's nostrils flared as his anger grew, but right now they needed to think, not act. Not yet. "And there's no flamin' way we can get everyone out of here in time."

"Our adversaries are taking their leave of us." Hank's voice crackled to life over their communicators. "But if Nightcrawler has found you, you know they have left some parting gifts."

"Timers," Logan growled. "Has to be, to cover their retreat. Lead us there, Elf. I can disable 'em." He fell in behind Nightcrawler, hauling 'Ro to his side. He couldn't leave her behind, but he couldn't let her fall apart on them now. He had a feeling they were going to need her before this was over, and silently he thanked whoever was listening that she seemed to sense that. His sharp ears picked up on her shallow breathing and her hand had become a claw digging into his arm, but still she kept up.

They didn't have far to go and no longer had to be quiet about it, though with all the twists and turns they had to backtrack twice. By the time they reached Beast, frustration and anticipation had stretched Logan as taut as a bowstring.

"There." For once Beast didn't waste any words, pointing to where three canisters had been propped against a shelf of concrete. They were clearly homemade, and crudely so, but that didn't mean that whatever they contained wasn't lethal.

"Elf." Kurt snapped to attention, and was at Logan's side in an instant. "Take her."

Without question, Kurt pried her hand from Logan's arm and wrapped it around his own. Maybe he didn't understand entirely what was going on, but Logan knew she and the German had soft spots for each other a mile wide. He could trust Kurt to take care of her, and be quiet about it.

"OK, Cyke, be ready." Scott was already adjusting something on his visor, having caught on to Logan's plan. Once upon a time, he might have taken offense at Logan acting as if he was in charge, but a lot had changed. A good leader knew when to delegate or step back, and as much as Logan might not want to admit it, a good leader ol' One-Eye had become. "And Storm." She responded to his voice, lifting her head and fixing on him with her now white eyes. "Listen to me - we're gonna need you here, darlin'."

That had to be enough to clue Beast and Cyke in to what was going on with their teammate, but there was nothing to be done about it. 'Ro'd understand - and if she didn't, he'd apologize when they got out of this mess.

He strode over to the closest canister, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. There - the timer was small, hidden, but its display was unmistakable. Three minutes and counting. Fuck.

"Contain the other two, 'Ro." He didn't think they would take long to disarm, but there was no way to know for sure and the others could go off in the process. Whatever these things contained, she had the best shot at slowing the explosion and keeping it from spreading. But when he got no response from her he glanced up sharply. "Now, Storm."

He heard Kurt whisper something to her, but her eyes didn't leave Logan's and still she did nothing. Shit ... what if she was too far lost in her own head to even hear him? He was tempted to tell the Elf to bamf the others out of there, if he thought they wouldn't waste their time arguing about it. "Darlin', if you don't do this people're gonna die. The Morlocks have no way out of here. And those walls? They really are going to come down."

She flinched as if he'd slapped her, and Logan felt it like a punch in the gut. Jesus, he could be a world-class asshole ...

But there was no more time to spare. Maybe he got through to her, maybe he didn't, but if he didn't get these wires cut it might not make any difference what any of them did.

With all of his attention on the mass of circuitry in front of him, calling on skills he hadn't tapped in fuck knew how many years, he didn't notice the shift at first. The thing was made by an amateur, no question, but sometimes that was even worse. The wiring didn't follow any pattern he was familiar with, and one wrong move could set it off. But the odd whistling sound grew louder, seeping into his subconscious, and finally he glanced up ...

The other two canisters hovered in the air to his left, caught immobile in the tight spiral of a mini-cyclone that parted the sludge beneath their feet and stretched to the ceiling. It was crafted with exquisite control, he could see that, the wind not jostling the sensitive explosives or impeding his work. Logan shot a glance to his other side to find her, eyes shut tight, fists clenched on outstretched arms, breathing labored and sounding painful. He could see her body trembling from here and had no idea how she was staying upright. His dark eyes shifted to Kurt, standing just behind her with one hand gentle against her back. "I have her, mein Freund."

Logan nodded and swallowed hard, forcing back whatever inconvenient emotion was trying to make itself known. He was so close with this thing, he could feel it ... there! With a quick flick of one razor-sharp claw the wire was severed, and with a growl Wolverine ripped the detonator out and tossed it in the air, trusting Cyke to take care of it.

And he did, his optic blast pounding the device past Logan's ear and smashing into the wall behind them. But Logan didn't spare a glance or even a word, intent on snatching the next explosive out of the air the instant 'Ro released the winds' hold.

The last two went much faster now that Logan had figured out how they'd been put together, the group of them working in seamless tandem. He didn't know how close they cut it, refusing to look at the timer on the last device, but he figured they were probably better off not knowing.

"OK, that's it," Logan announced as the last timer was smashed into oblivion, courtesy of Cyke. "Let's get out of here."

As the last of Storm's winds died away, Logan turned back to the team just in time to see her collapse as if her legs had been cut out from beneath her. Scott shouted and Kurt lunged forward, catching her before she could completely fall into the muck. Logan didn't hesitate - in three long steps he was at her side, sweeping her from Kurt's arms into his own. Whether it was exertion or stress, or both, he had no idea, but Ororo was unconscious, her face looking oddly peaceful in the dim, murky light overhead.

"What happened?" Cyke ran up, reaching out one hand to cradle her head. "Is she all right?"

"She'll be fine once we get out of here," Logan answered gruffly, shifting her into a more comfortable position. At least, he hoped she would be. He didn't want to think that he might have pushed her too far. "We are getting out of here now, right?"

"At your leisure," Hank answered, bounding up beside them with the remains of the explosives. "We will take these back to the mansion and dispose of them properly." His eyes grew wide when he caught sight of Ororo, almost dropping his haul in his sudden concern.

"Check her out when we get back," Logan practically growled, now as eager as she had been to put this disgusting rat-trap as far behind them as possible.

"Right," Cyke confirmed. "Let's move, people."

Logan fell in, letting their Fearless Leader pick their way back through the tunnels and focusing instead on the still woman in his arms. In the darkness no one probably saw him, but either way Logan didn't give it a thought. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her forehead, whispering against her cool skin.

"We're goin' home, darlin'."





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