The Calming Storm (Part One)
Entry # 3 - September 15
Well, you would not believe it. Logan succeeded in evading me the entire day yesterday. Sometimes I can not help but think he has some telepathic ability. I did catch a glimpse of him out the kitchen window as I was finishing breakfast with the others. He was walking into the woods, and had not even stopped in to have something to eat.
He still is not eating or sleeping well. Many nights I have stopped in to check on him only to find his bed not slept in, and he, not in his room. The security monitors do not indicate that he leaves the mansion in the middle of the night. Where does he go? I have not been able to locate him in any of his usual spots.
He still shows no interest in participating in any group activities. We have tried to get him to sit with us for meals, watch television, play pool, go for walks, spar in the Danger Room or exercise in the gym…he has not even touched the four beers he has in the refrigerator, which have been there since he was taken.
Well, it is 07:15, and everyone will be gathering for breakfast. Perhaps today will be the day he decides to join us.
* * * Real time events ***
Ororo wasn’t too surprised to have made the walk from her loft all the way to the kitchen without seeing a single soul. Breakfast had already been laid out, and all the X-Men would be sitting down to eat. All but one, she was sure.
When she pushed through the swinging door, she was greeted with smiles and salutations from all in attendance. She tried to return their greetings with a smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. Logan was not among those present. As she poured herself a coffee, she looked around the room and noticed someone else was not in attendance.
"Where is Henry? He’s not still working in the lab, is he?"
"We called down to him about fifteen minutes ago, said he’d be right up," Cyclops informed her. "He’s still examining the items we brought back. Still can’t figure out how they work." Ororo steeled herself at the mention of ‘those items’. She stared at Scott, clenching her teeth and swallowing the vile taste that suddenly developed in the back of her throat.
One of the items he was referring to was a ghastly looking helmet, which was made of a heavy metal alloy. It had optical lenses attached to the front, which were obviously meant to cover the eyes. It also had a small video camera with audio capabilities, which was mounted off center to one side. There were hundreds of wires protruding from connection points on the outer shell, and appeared to be connected to leads, which hung from the helmet’s interior, looking like the poison tendrils of a man-made jellyfish.
Another item was a visor. It resembled the visor that Scott wore, although it was much bulkier and had no lenses for which to see through. It also had leads and wires attached to it, and like the helmet, they were marred with dried blood. Both items were found on a table, in a corner of the cell, where Logan had been held. It was obvious that these ‘items’ were used in Logan’s ‘re-training’ program. She despised their very existence, and abhorred the fact that they were here, in their home.
The third item was the suppressing collar, which was used, mainly, to interrupt Logan’s healing process. It was locked in the laboratory safe, as Hank had promised. The items were kept hidden from Logan and she prayed that he never would find out that they were here, in his home. She wanted them destroyed, but Hank had argued, and he made a good point, that if he could figure out how they worked, and what they were used for, then perhaps they could find the answers they needed to help Logan.
"Ro, are you alright?" Scott asked. She blinked as her thoughts came back to the present.
"Yes, I’m fine," she replied, trying to shake off the image of Logan being forced to wear those horrendous instruments of torture. She turned to place her cup on the counter, effectively turning her back on the group, and taking a moment to settle her nerves.
"Has anyone seen Logan?" she asked, trying to sound casual. As she heard a chorus of negative responses, the door opened and Dr. McCoy entered.
"Ah, Ororo, I’m glad you’re here. I could use your help with a… matter," he stated.
"Of course, Henry, what is it?" she asked, turning to face him.
"Well… it’s Logan," he informed her, and although he had hoped not to upset her, she was quickly heading for the door before he had the chance to explain.
"Where is he? What’s wrong?" she demanded, as she tried to shoulder past him. Hank grabbed onto her shoulders to keep her from barreling through the door. When it came to Logan, Ororo did not always use controlled judgement. When he was in distress or injured Ororo’s only thoughts were to get to him as quickly as possible. When it came to Logan, she reacted with her heart and not her head.
"Whoa there. Hang on," Hank told her as he stepped in front of her. The others in the room also gave him their full attention.
"Where is he, Hank?" she demanded, trying to shrug off his restraining grip.
"Yeah, Hank, what’s up?" Scott asked.
"Nothing to be alarmed about, I assure you," Hank told them calmly, then he turned his attention to Ororo. "I was on my way up here after Scott called down. I was just finishing up some notes, when… I suddenly felt like I was being watched." Hank did not hurry his explanation, giving Ororo time to settle down. "When I turned around, he was there… in the lab… watching me."
"He was in the lab?" Ororo asked in surprise. After what he had been through, the last place any of them would expect him to go, voluntarily, was inside the lab.
"Yes," Hank confirmed. "He was just standing there, behind a curtain. I don’t think he was trying to hide, because I could see him from the angle I was sitting at." Ororo nodded and waited for Hank to finish. He was right, if Logan wanted to hide from him he would not have been seen. "I spoke to him, but he wouldn’t respond. I invited him to come out, but he shrank back behind the curtain, out of view."
Ororo furrowed her brow. Why would Logan go to the lab? Why would he let Hank see him, and then hide? It didn’t make sense. Then she thought of the items Hank had been working on. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear.
"He didn’t see the… things you were working on. Did he?" she asked, and Hank was shaking his head before she even finished asking the question.
"No. I was already finished with them. They were covered on top of the table."
"I want those things locked up, Hank. I want them out of here." She told him. She was adamant about it, and there was no talking to her - not about that. Hank let out a breath and dropped his eyes to the floor. "Where is he now?" she asked. Hank met her gaze and shrugged.
"I’m not sure. When I stood up he took off," he told her, then added. "I believe he may still be in the sub levels, though. None of the elevators had been activated, and the alarm on the Emergency Stairwell door didn’t go off." Ororo nodded. She understood the dilemma. Logan had been hiding beneath the mansion in the sub levels, probably in the darkened corridors and storage rooms. That’s why she couldn’t find him when he was missing. It was the last place she thought he would go, so she never considered looking there. The question was… why?
She left the kitchen with Hank, leaving the others to their meal. They didn’t offer any assistance, knowing full well that if their help was needed they would be called. It was always best to leave Wolverine to Ororo’s care, unless asked. She didn’t like their interference when matters involving Logan’s trust were being challenged.
Upon reaching the sub-levels they conducted a systematic search of all corridors and storage rooms. They left no stone unturned knowing he could hide and sit, very still, for hours. It took nearly an hour for them to complete the search, coming up empty.
"He couldn’t have gotten upstairs without us knowing it, could he?" Ororo asked, knowing the answer before Hank spoke.
"No. He’s down here. Somewhere."
"The only place we have not checked is the lab," she replied as they rounded the corner to the corridor leading back to the elevators and Hank’s lab.
"He couldn’t be there, I locked it up before I left." McCoy replied and Ororo gave him a look that asked ‘when has a locked door ever stopped Wolverine?’ Hank got the silent message, his eyes widening at the thought of Wolverine’s claws tearing through the solid steel doors. They quickened their pace, rounding the next corner, heading for the lab. They came to a halt in front of the lab door. It was still in one piece and in tact. Hank tried the door handle. Locked. He looked at her and shrugged. Ororo stared at him, actually she stared through him deep in thought.
"He’s in the lab," she told him definitively. She was sure of it but Hank shook his head.
"He can’t be, I saw him leave."
"Yes, but you didn’t see him come back."
"No, he couldn’t have…" he started to say, then he sighed. "The Wolverine is quicker than the eye?" he asked. Ororo nodded, then she looked at the locked doors.
"Why would he let you lock him in?" she asked. Hank shook his head, he had no answer for her. He unlocked the door and they stepped inside cautiously. Looking around, they saw nothing obvious or out of the ordinary. It was dark and quiet, exactly the way Hank had left it. They moved out in different directions, taking it slow and easy. There were just too many places to hide in here and they had no idea what was going through Wolverine’s head right now.
"Oh… my stars," Hank half-whispered in the semi-darkness of his desk lamp. Ororo stopped and turned when she heard his quiet exclamation. She turned her gaze to where he was looking and saw a crisp white sheet on the nearby table was turned back, revealing to her sight that ghastly metal helmet.
"Hank, cover that disgusting thing!" she hissed at him.
"It was covered… when I left," he told her. Then he turned his head to meet her gaze. "The visor is gone," he informed her quietly.
"What?!"
"It was right here with the other one. It’s gone," he explained. Ororo took a deep breath and turned back to scan the room. She concentrated real hard, trying to use her nose to pick up Logan’s musky scent. Her sense of smell was no where near as sensitive as Wolverine’s, but he had taught her long ago not to depend too much on what you see... or what you don’t. She walked slowly around the room as Hank watched her, keeping his eyes open for a possible attack. She peeked under beds, behind curtains and even inside cabinets that she was sure he couldn’t fit in… because you just never could tell, not with him. She made her way around the room, coming to the large walk-in storage closet in the far corner. Ororo looked at the closed door for a moment then looked at Hank. He nodded for her to proceed… cautiously, of course.
Ororo reached for the handle and slowly twisted it downward. She froze when she heard a low, menacing growl come from the other side. Hank quickly moved across the room to stand beside her. He nodded a signal for her to open the door. Ororo continued to pull the handle downward until she heard a click... and another growl. She swallowed the lump in her throat preparing to defend herself against her friend, then slowly opened the door.
The closet was pitch black inside and the dimmed lights of the infirmary lab added little to illuminate the interior room. Hank reached across a file cabinet to the wall switch on the other side. When the lights came up he heard Ororo gasp in shock before he could turn back around. Looking inside for himself, Dr. McCoy stilled at the sight.
Logan was crouching in the far corner of the darkened room, snarling at them. He had taken some restraining belts that were normally used for patients who could not be calmed down and had rigged them up in a manner that mimicked the restraints used on him in the containment cell at the compound. He was stripped of everything but his jeans and that damned visor wrapped around his head, the leads and wires dangling around his shoulders.
"Dear God…" Hank exclaimed quietly at the sight.
"Why did he do this?" Ororo asked, nearly in tears. Hank shook his head, unable to close his mouth from the shock of it.
"I don’t know," he finally whispered. Ororo stepped into the dark cubical, bending at the waist to bring the sound of her voice to his level.
"Logan?" she tried. Wolverine growled at her and backed himself up away from her until he could feel the cold wall against his back. The restraints pulled his arms out in front of him and out to the sides, leaving his chest open and vulnerable to attack. Ororo crouched down to the floor and slid up in front of him, talking softly to him. "It’s alright, Logan. Hank is with me. We want to help you."
Wolverine growled and shook his head then turned his face to the side, trying to dismiss her. Ignoring the message he was trying to give her, Ororo reached out and grabbed the visor lightly in both hands. Logan felt the pressure of the extra weight and tried to shake her off. Before she could be dislodged Ororo pulled the visor off, then just sat still for a moment looking at him. He just sat there with his eyes shut, refusing to look at her. Ororo then realized she was still holding the visor and, disgusted with the feel of it, she turned and handed it to Hank.
"Logan?"
"Go away!" he growled at her.
"Please… tell me… what is going on?" she asked.
"Go away!" he repeated angrily but Ororo scooted closer to him and placed her hands on his head. He tried to shake her off again, but she held on.
"No. I am not going away!" she told him, raising her voice so she could be heard over his snarling. When he realized she wasn’t letting go and he was restrained, Logan calmed down. She gave him a moment to collect himself, listening to his panting breaths, then she spoke quietly. "What is going on, Logan? Why did you do this?"
"Do what?" he asked sarcastically.
"This! Why are you in here?"
He snickered darkly and turned his head to the side. Now that he was responding to her, Ororo released him and waited for his answer.
"Why am I in here?" he repeated and Ororo waited. "You tell me." Ororo furrowed her brow in confusion.
"I don’t know, Logan. What’s happening with you? Tell me."
He turned his face toward her, eyes still shut, and drew in a deep breath through his nose. He was scenting her she knew, then his lips curled into an evil smirk.
"They’re good," he said. "You even smell like her."
"Like who?" Ororo asked, not understanding the statement.
"You know who," he replied, "and it ain’t gonna work. What? Do ya’ think I’m stupid?"
"No, I do not think you are stupid," Ororo replied. "What isn’t going to work, Logan?" Wolverine sighed. He always hated playing twenty questions.
"This little parlor trick o’ yers," he told her.
"What parlor trick? What are you talking about?" she asked.
"I know what they want," he told her. "And they ain’t gonna get it!" Before Ororo could ask him what he meant, Logan went on… shouting to people who obviously were not there. "You can send who you want! I know this game! Played it before, remember?!" he yelled.
"What game, Logan? I don’t understand," she asked, bringing his attention back to her.
"Of course you don’t," he replied. "You wouldn’t know yer part o’ the game. That’s the way they program ya’, darlin’. Yer supposed ta believe yer her. But, the thing is… I know ya’ ain’t her, an’ I know I ain’t here. Well… yeah, I’m here… but I ain’t there. Where ya’ want me ta think I am."
Ororo shook her head confused. "Logan, you’re not making any sense. Where do they want you to think you are?" she asked and he sat real quiet for a moment, thinking... then he replied softly.
"Home."
TBC in "The Calming Storm" part two
