“Look alive, darlin’.”
Ororo peeked up from her belly flat position on the floor, where she had several maps laid out, as Logan entered the cabin, the first fingertips of gray dawn visible over his broad shoulder. She was momentarily struck speechless by the ruggedly handsome picture he presented with his days growth beard and his well worn jeans fitting like a second skin over thick muscled thighs, a look made complete by his faded leather jacket. The man was way too appealing by far, she decided. “What is it?” she asked clearing her throat.
Logan dusted his shoulders before removing his weather beaten hat. “Victor Creed.”
She sat upright. “He’s here?”
“Not yet. ‘Bout two miles south, southeast. Headin’ this way.”
“How can you be certain?”
“I can smell ‘im.”
Ororo raised a brow. “Really?”
Logan smirked at her curious expression. “Really.” He gave the maps a glance. “What’re ya doing?”
“Studying the area.” She returned her gaze to the maps. “I like to know my way around.”
“Hnh.” Logan crouched beside her. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I won’t let ya get lost.”
Ororo rolled her eyes. “Trust a man to follow directions? No thank you.”
Logan’s teeth appeared in a seductively feral grin and his graveled voice took on a lustful rumble. “I can take directions real good. Remember last night? When you were panting in my ear ‘harder, Logan, faster, Logan…’.”
Heat flooded Ororo’s face, which only made him chuckle. She held up her hand, her index finger and thumb nearly touching. “I am seriously this close to hating your guts,” she told him, striving to remain unflustered by his close proximity.
He snorted back another chuckle as he stood. “I’ll deal.”
Ororo saw his grin broaden before he turned away and she bit back an answering smile as well as several cuss words. The man certainly enjoyed irritating the shit out of her.
Two miles southeast of the rustic cabin that Wolverine and Storm had made camp in Victor Creed, better known as Sabertooth, pulled a long range walkie-talkie out of the dark green pack he was carrying. “He’s here.”
Static, then. “You’re sure it’s him?”
Sabertooth ran his hand along the rough bark of a weathered tree, noting the claw marks. His lips curled back, revealing jagged teeth and long canines. It was a blatant challenge if ever there was one. “I’m sure.”
There was a long silence from the other end. “Bring him in.”
“He ain’t just gonna come quietly.” Sabertooth stated a nasty snarl on his face.
“No he won’t. You have your orders, soldier. Take down Wolverine, by any means necessary. We‘ll do the rest.”
“Why don’t ya’ll just fly in and napalm his ass?”
“You scared, Creed?”
“Fuck you.”
“We can’t fly in because he’d hear us coming long before we could get to him. We put a lot of effort getting that freak Xavier to come looking for you. You should feel honored he sent Wolverine.”
“Whatever. I don‘t see what‘s so fuckin‘ special about the guy.”
More static, and then a new voice on the line. “Do not make this a pissin’ contest, Sabertooth. Yer a piss poor match up for Wolverine. Be smart. Do not go hand to hand with him or we’ll be pickin’ up little bits o’ your sorry ass for days. Ya hear me?”
Sabertooth fought for self control. “I hear.”
“Good. Now, stop asking questions and go do your fucking job. Over and out.”
Sabertooth crushed the walkie-talkie in his hand. “Pussies,” he growled. Tossing the remains of the communicator aside, he picked up his rifle and loped into the dense forest, a savage smile on his lion-like face.
Logan swallowed a mouthful of beer, re-reading the dossier on Victor Creed. He could feel an inking of remembrance twitching in the back of his mind, a feeling all too familiar and frustrating. He crushed the can in his hand.
Sensing his mood, Ororo stood. “Well, I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be closed up inside here all damn day.” She opened her cabin door and a cold blast of air greeted her. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of freshly fallen snow.
Logan watched her predatorily and felt his gut clench.
“Is it always so beautiful up here?” she asked softly.
For a moment he didn’t answer.
She turned towards him and he was struck by the vividness of her baby blues. “Logan?”
“It’s nice enough up here.”
She smirked. “But not as nice as your cabin, right?”
He pulled out a cigar. “Maybe I’ll show ya sometime and you can judge for yerself.”
Ororo’s mouth fell open slightly, but then she lifted one shoulder indifferently. “What makes you think I would even want to see your cabin?”
Logan grunted, fighting the urge to laugh. Honest to God, the woman was as infuriatingly pig headed as he was. Being with Ororo was like being in a sparring match, and she was intent on not letting him gain an inch.
She yawned into her hand, still not fully awake. “How long before--”
“Sh.” Logan stood, his eye narrowing as he peered past Ororo; he heard movement and caught a glimpse of glowing yellow through the leaves about thirty feet away. His shoulders tensed. “Move away from the door, Storm.”
Ororo didn’t have time to react to his words. One second she was enjoying the cool breeze on her face and the next she was flat on her back, the breath knocked from her lungs and her head cracking against the floor under Wolverine’s tackle.
“Wolverine!” She struggled beneath his heavy weight.
Bullets hit the ground, splintering the wood beside her head, spitting bits into her hair. Wolverine reached around her, rolling them and kicking the door shut. “Stay down,” he growled into her ear, leaning over her, shielding her.
Glass shattered to their right and Ororo was horrified to see a grenade bounce along the floor, rolling to a stop under one of the recliners.
“Fuck! Go, go, go!” Wolverine jerked her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her, throwing himself backwards through the kitchen window as the grenade exploded with substantial force, sending them tumbling along the snow covered ground.
Ororo cried out as pieces of broken wood and glass embedded themselves in her thigh and arm. The explosions separated her and Logan she realized, rolling to her stomach and peering through the fallen strands of her hair to where Wolverine was rising, all six claws extended.
Logan glanced around, sniffing the smoky air, picking up a multitude of mixed smells. The fucker was using some sort concealing spray, jumbling his scent. Whoever it was, and he assumed it was Creed, firing on them was close; he could hear them crashing through the brush.
“You still alive, Wolverine?” A rough voice called out just before another barrage of bullets struck the cabin. “Come out, come out wherever you are.” There was a lengthy pause. “I guess Floyd wasn’t lyin’. You ain’t alone, eh? That ain’t just yer blood I’m smellin’.”
Wolverine gave Storm a startled look. She grimaced as she rose to her knees, blood soaking through her jeans. She shook her head, mouthing, “I’m fine.”
Ororo watched Logan’s face and she felt her muscles tense. She wasn’t liking the look of grim determination appearing on his blood smeared face. He was going to make a stand, she could feel it. He was not about to back down. A bullet hit him in the chest, knocking him back a step. His only response was a muffled grunt and then he straightened, sniffing the air. Two more bullets found a home in the sinewy muscle of his leg.
Ororo scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain lancing through her thigh, reacting automatically. She started to run towards Wolverine, unable to watch as he was riddled with bullets. Sensing her movement, Wolverine whirled, grabbed her about the waist, and pulled her against him, using his body as a shield to protect her from the hail of bullets being fired at them.
“Stay down!” he barked, bringing them both down to a crouch.
“Creed?” she asked breathlessly.
He grunted in response. He maneuvered her around a large maple tree beside the cabin. “Go deep into the woods. Stay hidden.”
“I’m as in this as you are,” she said determinedly.
Another grenade exploded, causing one of the walls to completely crumble in on itself. “Don‘t argue, Storm, just fucking do it!” He glanced over his shoulder at the smoldering remains of the cabin. “Trust me, this won‘t take long. I’ll find ya.”
On impulse Storm leaned forward and kissed him forcefully on the mouth. “Be careful.”
He grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’m the best there is at what I do.”
Storm staggered to her feet, sprinting into the thicker foliage of the forest. Once she was clear from his line of sight, Wolverine made his way towards the front of the cabin, his movements silent and predatory. Whoever this Creed fucker was, he should consider himself gutted.
Logan made a complete circle of the burning cabin without any sign of the other mutant. A few yards into the woods he found a dumped satchel and dozens of shell casings, but no other sign of the person firing upon them. He picked up the discarded satchel… -Click-
“Fuck!” The world exploded into a fireball of pain.
Her lungs were on fire.
Ororo clawed feebly at the large hand clutching her throat in a death grip, the pressure threatening to crush her larynx and choke her into oblivion. Her vision blurred, causing the snarling face of the angry mutant dangling her off the ground like she was no more than a child to become distorted from lack of oxygen.
Unconsciously her eyes faded white, panic causing the clouds above her to whirl and writhe across the sky. Thunder rumbled overhead.
Sabertooth growled, pulling her face close to his, his fetid breath moistening her lips. “Yer a feisty little piece ain‘t ya, doll baby?”
Though her feet dangled inches from the ground, not allowing for substantial leverage, Ororo kicked out nonetheless, connecting solidly with the soft spot between Creed’s thighs and arching her back to try and break his hold.
“Bitch.” He grunted, his grip on her esophagus lessening slightly and she managed to struggle free, dropping to the ground in a heap, rivulets of blood trickling from the long scratches his claws had made as she escaped.
Ororo heaved great gulps of air into her tortured lungs, the relief making her eyes water. She rolled away quickly, her survival instincts kicking in. The pieces of glass and wood buried in her thigh and arm dug deeper as she stood, but she ignored the discomfort, focusing all of her attention on the lumbering feral stalking her. “Where is Wolverine?” she demanded.
Sabertooth grinned. “Dead.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “It would take more than you.”
The hulking brute tensed. “I’m seriously gonna enjoy teachin’ ya some manners, frail.”
“We just came to talk,” she said, eyeing him warily.
Long incisors glinted as he sneered. “I ain’t the talkin’ type.”
Ororo blinked sweat from her eyes. She needed to render him inoperative as quickly and efficiently as possible and return to the cabin for Wolverine. Clouds rolled overhead, churning and frothing.
Sabertooth looked up, his eyes narrowing, finally noticing that the weather pattern wasn’t a natural one.
“I am asking you to surrender. I don’t want to hurt you,” Ororo demanded as the wind picked up, lashing the trees and howling around them.
Sabertooth cocked his head curiously, almost amused. “Ya gonna huff and puff, and blow me away?”
“Something like that,” she answered. She’d have preferred a lightening strike, but so far in the woods, she didn’t want to risk a forest fire. She’d just have to make due.
A savage roar ripped from Sabertooth as his feet were knocked out from under him by a hurricane gale. With the agility of a great cat he flipped in the air, sinking his talons deep in the ground, grimacing as he was forced farther back, hail striking him in the face, breaking skin in dozens of tiny, annoying cuts. Slowly he reached for his belt, removing the small 22 automatic holstered there. He jerked it and fired as the winds tossed him.
Ororo fell back, the bullet taking her in the shoulder.
Taking advantage of the distraction the hit caused Ororo, Sabertooth took immediate action. With preternatural speed, he lunged forward, clearing the distance separating him from Storm, gripping her by the hair and smashing her face into his knee.
“Playtime’s over.” His smile was triumphant as one beefy fist slammed into Storm’s stomach, doubling her over. He yanked on her hair, leaning into her face, licking the blood trickling under her nose. “Mmmm. Victory tastes so sweet.”
White eyes glowed defiantly. “Fuck you.”
“Now there’s an idea.” One large hand squeezed her breast, his talons digging into the soft swells painfully.
Ororo had never known fear like the terror that flooded her body at his low taunt, his harshly spoken words freezing her blood.
“I see I have yer attention now, don’t I?” He yanked her head back so hard it brought tears to her eyes. “I can smell his stank all over you. Did he fuck ya good, baby? Did he make ya scream? I‘ll make ya scream.””
“Asshole.” she ground out, wincing.
He chuckled. “Defiant, eh? I like that.”
Tilting her chin, Ororo refused to close her eyes as Sabertooth’s large fist descended and cracked against her jaw, rendering her unconscious.
Blood. Swirling pools of scarlet that painted the walls, clouding his vision until it was all he could see. A crimson veil over his tormented eyes.
Death and darkness.
Waves of rage lapped at him in tides, surrounding him, trying to suck him in. Animal.
Voices rose up, but he couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t make out their muffled words. Agony swamped him, white-hot and burning, more horrific than the depths of hell he was sure. It enveloped him, making him writhe in anguish, in an agony that seemed endless.
Then there was the laughter. Low and mirthless, driving him towards the limits of his sanity.
Pain. There was so much pain. He couldn’t take one more second of it…
Jesus.
Wolverine’s eyes snapped open, a barely repressed roar trapped in his chest. His heart was pounding, echoing in his ears. He lifted his head slowly from the ground. The smell of his own burnt flesh heavy in his nostrils. Fucker set a bomb. Shoulda seen that comin’. Growling against the immense pain shooting through his smoldering body, he stood. In the distance he could hear the steady whump-whump of approaching helicopters. “Good one, Charlie. Send us straight into a fuckin’ trap.”
The dull rumble of thunder drew his gaze skyward, where the once faint grey sky was a writhing mass of angry black clouds. “Storm.” Just as he started in the direction that the clouds spun in, they dissipated, filtering away as though they had never been. An unfamiliar feeling surged through Logan at that sight. Fear.
Ororo gradually opened her eyes, blinking as she focused. Everything hurt. Her face felt like it was the size of a watermelon, and she couldn’t move her jaw. Broken, she assumed.
She was still in the woods, she noted, not far from where Sabertooth had originally ambushed her. She tried to turn her head, but realized she was strapped tightly to the trunk of a tree, a thick nylon rope was knotted around her arms, forcing them behind her, as well as wrapped around her throat, keeping her head facing forward. She winced against the dull ache in her shoulders. The bark scraped her skin when she tried to tug against the restraint.
A rough voice right behind her ear stopped her movements and turned her blood cold. “I gotta say, yer spirited fer a frail. Most of the other chicks I meet are whimpering and begging by now. But not you, eh, sweetness? Yer tough as nails, eh? Or so ya think. Ya just wait, doll baby. Ye’ll beg. They all beg.” His low voice was almost soothing, and had his words not been so disturbing Ororo may have enjoyed the sound, much like she enjoyed Hank’s deep, rich voice.
Sabertooth’s right hand reached around the trunk one claw tracing a painful line along her jaw, drawing blood. He brought his finger to his lips, sucking the red bead from his tip and moaning. “Ah, hell yeah.”
Ororo closed her eye, taking a deep nasal breath. Don’t think about gruesome. Think of a way out of this. Focus. You need to get out of this alive, by any means necessary.
When her eyes opened again, they sparked white fire and lightening shot from a clear sky, striking the tree directly above her head.
“Damn it!” Creed snapped, jerking away from her as the bark smoldered. “Big mistake, witch.” His fist slammed into her cheek.
Wolverine crouched low, running his fingers over the trampled snow. He sniffed, moving forward until he saw bright crimson and dirt on white. He lifted his hand, staring at the stain on his fingers. ‘Roro’s blood. Whether from her leg wound or new ones he couldn’t be certain; either way, the fucker that hurt her was dead. Smothering the impending roar building in his chest, he began stalking his way through the woods, focusing solely on following Storm’s scent.
“It looks like a damn war zone down there,” Ali said, gazing out the window of the Blackbird towards the still smoldering remains of a rustic hunting cabin. One wall was completely blown away, wood and debris scattered into the woods, and the other three had collapsed in on themselves.
“Oh no.” Kitty had covered her mouth with her hands, tears welling in her large brown eyes as she stared out the jet’s window in horror at the wreckage below.
“Mein Gott,” Kurt whispered, crossing himself.
Marvel Girl swiveled in her seat, casting the team an irritated, but worried look. “You guys need to calm down. I can’t focus with so much yelling in my head.”
“Jean--” Cyclops gestured toward the window.
Two black Comanche helicopters flanked the hovering jet.
“X-MEN, this is General Nick Fury.” A deep baritone voice sounded over the Blackbird’s radio. “You are in S.H.I.E.L.D jurisdiction. Remove yourselves.”
“No fucking way, buddy.” Ali muttered.
“Immediately.” Came the repeated command.
Jean gave Scott a worried look. “What now?”
“Get a hold of the Professor, Jean. I’ll try and buy us a few minutes.” Cyclops spoke into his comm. “General Fury, this is Cyclops. We require confirmation of your credentials.”
“Son, I am the head of S.H.I.E.L.D, I answer to the President of the United States directly and only to him. Now, remove yourselves from the area or we will be forced to view your incorporation as a hostile act and remove you ourselves.”
“We could be of assistance,” Cyclops replied.
“This is a S.H.I.E.L.D matter, son, and it is none of your concern.”
“With all due respect, General, we have teammates in the area, and we are making it our concern. Until their whereabouts and safety are confirmed my team will remain here and combat ready. Acknowledge.”
Ali whistled. “Those be some new brass balls you’re showing off, Cyke?”
“Let’s just hope he doesn’t get us blown up, “ Bobby commented.
After a longer than comfortable silence from the helicopters, Fury’s voice came over the speakers. “Acknowledged. You have permission to find and extract your teammates, should you be able to locate them.”
Ororo came awake to the sound of rending cloth. She flinched when she realized that her right breast was bared , her shirt shredded and Creed was flicking his thumb across her nipple as he hovered over her, his grunts sickening her.
“Gonna fuck ya good.” She heard him growl as he yanked her pants down her legs, further aggravating the wound she had there. “Make ya beg.”
She tried to scream, but couldn’t. Everything seemed foggy, and dreamlike, yet terrifyingly crystal clear at the same time. Stop! She felt tears in her throat as her underwear was ripped away, the elastic gouging a faint line into her hip.
“Holy shit,” Creed groaned, his hungry gaze on her snowy curls. He rubbed himself through his pants, closing his eyes. “I can already feel ya, doll. Bet yer fuckin’ sweet.”
Ororo kicked her feet weakly, trying to scramble away from the hands reaching for her ankles. “Get off of me!” she yelled, her voice finally working. She struggled ineffectually beneath his massive frame.
Creed grinned at her. “Ya gonna beg?”
Ororo immediately closed her mouth, her tear-filled eyes meeting his amber ones boldly.
He leaned close, his claws piercing her as he jerked her legs apart, his tongue swirling against the blood on her thighs. “Mmmm. Gonna fuck ya good and hard.” He laughed again.
Hot tears spilled over the gashes on her cheek, the salty droplets stinging. Nonononononono…Please, no….please…stop…please… She sat silent, internally begging for the mercy she would never ask of the monster unzipping his pants.
Sabertooth’s teeth shone in the dense shadows as he stroked his thick erection. “Do me a favor and scream,” he growled looming over her.
NO! NOOOOOOOOOO! This is not real, this is not real, this is not real!
Feeling helpless Ororo screamed, raw and broken, as she felt Creed enter her.
“Ah, yeah, babe. Scream fer me. Daddy likes.”
Lightening! Fry his ass! Do something! Her body seemed unwilling to obey her mind‘s insistent commands, instead she went slack, closing her eyes. Logan! I’m sorry I‘m not stronger, Logan…I love you… The world went dark.
“Ororo!”
The massive mutant pinning Storm to the ground was brutally torn away from her by the three hundred pound man that had launched himself forcefully at him, all six claws slashing.
Never in his life had Wolverine wanted to kill anything or anyone more than he wanted to the man laying on the blood soaked ground in front of him. Seeing this animal on top of Ororo had snapped something in him. Wolverine extended and retracted his claws, as though flexing.
Sabertooth growled, blood dribbling along his chin as he struggled to keep his intestines in his gut. “She was…tight…must have a small…cock…runt…”
All pretense of composure was lost in that instant and Wolverine was completely consumed. Consumed by a rage that both exhilarated and terrified him. Claws slashed and blood sprayed; Snarls were met with grunts and growls with roars. A haze of red settled over Wolverine, his mind completely berserk as he slashed and slashed and slashed.
His chest was heaving when he stopped, blood and meat dripping from his claws. Wolverine gave the mass of hamburg looking man at his feet a contemptuous sneer. A soft sound broke his killing haze and he turned to see Ororo laying limply against the tree, several ropes holding her down.
Wolverine took a step towards her, his face tightening. He wiped shaking hands on his tattered, burnt jeans before he crouched beside her, cutting the ropes in one clean slice. He swore raggedly, tearing the nylon away from her neck. Logan wrapped her close, holding her as he fought the urge to scream. “I’m sorry, ‘Roro. So sorry.” He whispered into her hair.
It wasn’t until he heard the click of guns being readied did he realize they were not alone. He shifted position, blocking Ororo from view. He gave the men standing at the ready, guns pointed at his chest, their laser lights dead center a single word warning. “Leave.”
“Stand down, men.” Nick Fury said with quiet authority, coming up behind the soldiers, flanked by Cyclops and Jean. “Logan.”
“Fury.” There was no shift in Wolverine’s stance, giving the men pause.
“Here.” Nick pulled a gray blanket from one of the men’s packs and held it out to Logan. “For the girl.”
Not even a twitch in posture.
Jean took the initiative, grabbed the blanket and started forward.
“Lay it down, Jeannie. And leave. All of you.” He ordered.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Fury said. “We need to collect what’s left of Creed.”
Wolverine snorted. “Ground chuck. Now beat it.”
“Creed was inside Weapon X,” the General said smoothly. “Given his mutant abilities and military connections, I’d say you two have quite a bit in common, including an unprecedented healing factor. He may survive. I‘d like to question him if he does.”
Seeing Wolverine’s dark look, Jean telekinetically sent the blanket behind him to where Ororo was hidden by his bulky frame. “Gentlemen, surely you can afford them some privacy.” She gave the bloody mass that once must have resembled human a glance, turning away quickly as her stomach rebelled. “I don’t think your Mr. Creed is going anywhere, General.”
Fury looked at Logan.
“You owe me,” Logan growled.
Nick nodded. “Five minutes.” He and his soldiers turned away, walking back the way they came.
Jean grabbed Cyclops’ arm. “Come on,” she said quietly.
“But--”
Jean shook her head, her green eyes imploring. “Trust me.”
Jean glanced up from her task of meticulously removing shards of glass from Ororo‘s arm when she heard the hydraulic doors hiss open.
“How is she?” Logan asked. He had showered and changed into clean clothes, not wanting to see Ororo stained in her attackers blood.
Jean exhaled, placing the tweezers she was using into a silver dish filled with antiseptic. “As well as can be expected.” Jean removed the mask she wore and the cap from her head, standing.
Logan inhaled sharply at his first clear look at Ororo’s injuries. Her entire face seemed swollen and bruised. She had a nasty split lip, a gash on her left cheek and dark circles forming under her eyes from her broken nose. The arm laying across the white blanket covering her naked form was scraped and bruised. A visual of Ororo screaming beneath Creed filtered through his mind, making him pause. Logan cleared his throat. “Did he--?”
Jean rubbed the bridge of her nose wearily. “There was trauma that would indicate… rape, but no fluids.” She had a hard time saying the words.
Logan nodded, his fists clenched at his sides. “What else?”
“She took substantial blunt force trauma to her head, fractured arm, stitches needed in her thigh and neck, two cracked ribs, broken nose, dislocated jaw, lacerations to her wrist…” Jean listed the injuries automatically, tiredly.
“You should get some rest, Red.” Logan said, his gaze never leaving Ororo. “I’ll stay with her.”
“She’s been heavily sedated,” Jean said, indicating the IV drip in Ororo‘s arm. “But call me if she wakes.”
Jean was at the door when she turned and gave him a long look. She pressed a finger to her temple. “Logan,” Jean whispered, then so softly he almost didn’t catch it. “She was screaming for you.” The doors hissed shut.
Logan felt his stomach kick in a mixture of guilt and an as yet unidentified emotion. He pulled the swivel stool Jean had vacated alongside the bed, absently brushing his fingers through Ororo’s long, silken hair. His dark eyes glittered in the under the lights. He ran the tips of his fingers gently over her face, touching her ear and the pad of his thumb caressing her lower lip. Even battered she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Today’s events had made one thing very clear to him. His feelings for Ororo Munroe were based in far more than simple lust.
“I’m here, darlin’.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yer safe.”
Deep in her unconscious state, Ororo retreated further into the dark.
