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Logan was deaf to Blue’s warnings that attacking Magneto was the last thing he needed to do, knowing what he was capable of. All he heard was the rushing of blood in his ears and the voice growling in his head to take him out before he batted so much as an eyelash at ‘Ro, Marie or the kids.

“Still playin’ the Pied Piper, herdin’ young kids into the flock ta do yer dirty work?” Logan stalked out onto the front lawn and stood with his feet planted apart, like an ogre guarding the drawbridge to the castle. To Erik’s surprise, his claws weren’t extended. Not yet.

“The man with adamantium claws goes up against the man who can control metal,” he tsked, though his voice was hoarse. His silver eyes glinted with irony. “There’s something to be said for hindsight, Wolverine.”

“Last I knew, ya ran outta juice at Alcatraz, bub. There ain’t much ta keep me from rippin’ her leg off an’ kickin’ yer own ass with it.”

“That’s no language to use in front of an impressionable young lady,” Erik nagged. He still stood slumped against his young charge, who stared at Logan with skeptical eyes.

“Why’d we have to come here?” She studied the odd, tufted peaks of Logan’s hair and his scowling brows. “You’re weird,” she pronounced.

He blinked. “I ain’t the one glowin’ in the dark, Punkin’.” She made a disgusted sound under her breath and straightened up, bristling back at him. He almost liked her.

“No. You’re the one dangling upside down.” With a flick of her wrist, she lifted him off the ground, yanking his feet out from under him, and he smothered a curse as he was upended, the blood rushing to his head. Erik suppressed a smile.

“Where’s Storm?”

“Here,” she replied, and her strides were brisk as she crossed the porch and descended the steps.

“Always a pleasure, my dear.”

“Great…gonna chat out here like it’s a friggin’ tea party!”

“You have no business here, Erik.”

“You’re right. I’m here for your help, something I would normally never ask. I was attacked by a creature who knew my abilities and identity, as well as where to find me.”

Ororo looked nonplussed. “That wasn’t a coincidence.” She gave Lorna a hard glare. “I cannot concentrate with him just hanging there like that. Put him down. Now.”

CLOP! “GAH!” Logan took a face plant and sat up, rubbing his head and treating Lorna and Ororo to a sour look. “Thanks a heap,” he snarled. Erik tried to suppress his smile but failed.

“And like our friend here, his body was implanted with adamantium. I had no opportunity to analyze it or to disable him. I had to get Lorna and myself away as quickly as possible.”

“Ya didn’t disable him?” Logan grunted. “Nice. So ya come here. Damned things are gonna show up on our doorstep next!”

“Then we need to be ready for them,” Ororo replied curtly. “We’ve just encountered two of the creatures you described, Erik, but we were more successful in taking them down. We also made a very tragic discovery.”

“Tragic?” His brow furrowed, and he shivered at the graveness of her expression. Crystal blue eyes bored into his with a look of pity and regret.

“They were mutants. The implants were given to them as a means of controlling them, and of forcing them to hunt and exterminate mutants. Henry has been analyzing implants’ components to determine where they came from and how they function, as well as how we can protect ourselves from the creatures. At best, we know they can be disrupted and that they have a name.”

“What are they called, Storm?”

“Prime. They called themselves Prime.”

Erik’s face went pale, and he spoke with a dry mouth.

“Holy Father, forgive me,” he whispered. He collapsed, nearly dragging Lorna down with him before Logan hurried forward to relieve her of her burden. She followed them inside the house, three steps behind and hugging herself with shivering arms.


~0~


Forge rang Gyrich’s office for the fifth time that morning; his receptionist was still offering him vague answers and empty promises that she would forward the messages. He clapped his mobile phone shut and threw it into his duffle.

He locked up and made his way down to the penthouse’s lobby, checking out and leaving the key. His conversation with Blue had been terse and brief; he wanted to tear his hair out over what he’d allowed to happen, but it wouldn’t matter. None of it would matter, if his creation made him responsible for the loss of mutant lives.

The creatures were being programmed and controlled remotely, most likely via satellite, to make it harder to trace the signal. According to Henry, once the implants were disabled, the host regained cognitive function and control, provided that they survived once the implant was destroyed. Two casualties so far; a clammy rush ran over him as he pondered the implications.

Many soldiers had to be recruited before starting a war.

He navigated his way through the mid-morning traffic, ignoring his empty stomach for the time being. The speedometer of his sedan ticked down the remaining miles far too slowly, and he was relieved when the familiar treeline of the orchards surrounding the Institute came within view, flanking the grounds like sentinels.

He had to see Ororo, even if it meant letting her tear him a new one that he so likely deserved. He’d worked so hard to make a connection with her, and to scratch her hard, smooth and glossy surface, and instead he’d succeeded in fortifying that wall she’d thrown up to keep him out. He was no better than the baseline oppressors she vowed to defend mutantkind from in the first place, and he’d proven her right.

He didn’t know how to fix it. Give him something that ran on a motor or that could be assembled and taken apart, and he was your man. Toss him a righteously angry headmistress whose faculty and students his own invention inadvertently marked for death, however, and he fumbled, not having a clue. His flesh broke out in a cold sweat and he gripped the steering wheel until his biological hand ached.

A fresh wave of unease rolled over him and knotted his gut when he saw the bars of the security gates throwing off a shower of blue sparks and bent back like a crumpled beer can. He jerked the gearshift into park and leapt out of the car. He reached for the small intercom and pressed the page button.

“BLUE! What the hell happened here, it’s Forge! Have you been attacked? Answer me if you can!” he barked.

“We haven’t been attacked, so much as invaded,” was Henry’s dry reply over the static. “I’m overriding the security code so you can come in, Forge. Ororo’s waiting for you in the War Room.”

“I’m coming in now,” Forge announced, and he climbed back into his sedan, pulling it carefully into the long, winding driveway. To his relief, the school grounds and house looked untouched; there was no rubble or other signs of destruction other than the gate. There were no strange cars in the garage when he parked, and his steps were brisk as he carried his briefcase and duffle into the mansion. He knocked soundly on the front door before depressing the doorbell twice; his hands shook, and he felt relief bloom in his chest when Warren opened the door, wings neatly folded against his back.

“C’mon in, sir,” he offered, stepping aside to let him enter. The halls were relatively quiet; Forge heard no chatter from the students, telling him that they were likely in class or sequestered in their dormitories until further notice. Henry stepped out of the kitchen, his face weary and anxious. Warren flushed nervously, rattling his feathers slightly at the look of tension the two men shared before he wordlessly took his leave.

“Want coffee?”

“I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I just want to bring what I have to the table.” Henry nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, leading him to the conference room.

Ororo and Piotr were already seated, and made no move to greet Forge or stand when he let himself inside. Her face was an implacable, hard mask, eyes glittering and resembling a cat’s before it pounced.

“What happened to the front gate?”

“Our guests upstairs decided to let themselves in without knocking first,” Piotr murmured. “Coincidentally, the same young mutant whose signature we have been following since you restored Cerebro’s full level of function.”

“But you have more than one guest?”

“He doesn’t really count as a guest, since he used to reside here. She came to us with Magneto, in an attempt to help him after he was attacked.” Ororo wasn’t surprised, nor sympathetic when Forge’s eyes widened and he rocked back on his heels. “Her powers appear at first glance to be identical to his. Henry would like to run some tests when we have more of an opportunity.”

“I’ve brought the report.” He set down his briefcase on the table and unfastened the locks, extracting a report bound in a black folio, which he passed over to Ororo. She didn’t reach for it, and he dropped it onto the table in front of her in defeat. Only when he sat down across from her did she open the leaflets and scan their contents. Henry lingered over her shoulder to save the time of waiting for her to finish. She drew small comfort from his warm bulk at her back.

“The implants were a variation on my original design,” Forge explained. “Someone adapted them to sync with that remote signal that we haven’t traced back to its source yet. By themselves, the implants exchange signals uninterrupted from the patient’s nervous system.” His choice of words gave Ororo pause, but she still let him speak. “My own prosthetics function in a similar manner, even though I can wear them externally. They can adapt to my needs, and do anything except feel for me. They can adjust the amount of pressure and strength of grip that I need according to whatever the task is that I need to perform. These implants were never originally meant to be programmed by an external user or operator. I found something else when I retrieved the implants from the female host.”

“It galls me that someone could be so cavalier about manipulating the human body so callously,” Henry rumbled. “Let alone in the guise of providing medical care.”

“What else were you able to find, Forge?” Henry bristled noticeably when Ororo placed the question to Forge in a voice that was icy and distant.

“I’m afraid it’s more bad news. I retrieved other components besides the endoskeletal implants. There were also neural implants affecting their cognitive function and memory, overwriting their thought processes and logic. Someone didn’t want these beings to have a conscience.”

“That’s why they seemed to act without reason or thought to the consequences,” Henry murmured. “Why they could kill their own kind.”

“Yes.” Forge toyed with the edge of his glove, shrinking in his chair and looking like a chastised little boy.

“That’s why they were disoriented and we were able to speak to them before they died.” Ororo merely sat with her eyes glued to the paperwork in her hands. “Once the prosthetics are disrupted, and the nannites can no longer maintain their integrity to communicate with the network, the neural implants no longer affect their thought processes. By the time they are back to being themselves, it’s too late.”

“They need the nannites to live once their implanted?”

“They replace the host’s nervous system. The only way to turn off the implants is to turn off the host.” Henry’s voice was grave. “Forge, we need to know if you’ve devised any countermeasures to your invention. And we need to know now.”

“I’d like to tell you that I’ve thought that far ahead, but I would be lying.” Ororo had had enough.

“That’s comforting to hear, since you’ve lied to us enough. You introduced us to this marvelous technology in the guise of helping us.” Her eyes glittered at him, and she snapped the folio shut, shoving it so firmly across the table toward Forge that it nearly hit him.

“I did mean to help you,” he replied, and his face was tightly drawn, his chiseled lips flattened into a thin line. “I never wanted this to happen, Ororo!”

“Yet you let it happen. You played right into the Security Council’s hands, and you took us with you!” Their conversation from the moment that they introduced him to Cerebro rang out in her memory, nagging her to stay angry with him. She couldn’t let go of the indignant rage, or she might hurt herself more by believing him.


“And you wonder why the government’s so interested in the comings and goings of mutants.”

“The government’s interested in the containment of mutants.”

“Only the ones they perceive as a threat.”

“Do they perceive you as a threat?”

“Touché. And yes. But they also consider me useful.”


Instead, it tore at her. He’d lost so much, fighting for what he believed in, and the same people he was fighting for wanted to destroy his kind, using him as a means to an end.

Their end.

“Ororo, that’s enough,” Henry growled, and she was chastened by his thick, furry palm clapping over her shoulder and holding her captive in her seat.

“We can’t find a way to disable the implants?” Piotr suggested hopefully. “And leave the nannites intact? Or find some way to support the life of the Prime host once we disable them?”

“No one said we can’t find a way,” Forge assured him. “No one said I would walk again, either.” He demonstrated his point by rising from his chair and striding from the conference room. “I’m leaving the report with you.”

“Where are you going?” Piotr inquired.

“I would work more efficiently with my own tools. I’m flying back to Dallas,” he threw back as he paused in the doorframe.

“How quickly you flee,” Ororo challenged, and she pushed Henry’s hand away as she stood.

“I’ve never run from anything, Storm.”

“This looks like you’re running. And no one said you wouldn’t run.” Her chin rose a notch as she stared him down, throwing his own words back at him.

“I’ve already checked out of my rental,” he explained. “I’d lose more time getting settled in another hotel.” Ororo snorted with disgust.

“Then we’ll prepare you a room,” Henry offered crisply. His tone didn’t brook any escuses, even from his old friend.

Forge blanched. “Hank, it might not be the best-“

“He can stay in the guest wing,” Ororo interrupted. She folded her arms beneath her breasts in challenge.

“…idea?” Forge’s mouth went dry, and the cold sweat came back.

“I’m not taking my eyes off of you. When Henry isn’t supervising your work on the implants, I will be. Mark my words. I also won’t allow any untapped communications between you and anyone in the Security Council office. If you have a cell phone, kiss it goodbye. Piotr, accompany Forge to his car and confiscate his laptop. We’ll be keeping it in the vault. And for the record, I’m the only one in the school who can open it.” She brushed past him coolly, and he stepped back reflexively to avoid being knocked out of the way. Her steps were brisk and louder than Henry was accustomed to hearing them, as close as Ororo ever came to a stomp.

“Shit.” Forge scrubbed his gloved hand over his face. She was still regal, proud, and beautiful, even pissed off at him. And he pitied anyone who got in her way.

“I’d say you’ve stepped in it pretty deep,” Piotr quipped dryly. “I used to live on a large farm with my parents, tovarisch. I learned about livestock, and assisted in every aspect of raising beef and pork. When I was a young man, I nearly passed out from watching one of my father’s workmen castrate a steer.” Forge paled, and Henry winced.

“Nice image.”

“I get the feeling that you’re in for much, much worse.” Piotr led him companionably back to the front door. “But in the meantime, let’s get your things from the car.”


~0~

Downstairs in the infirmary:

“It’d be nice if ya’d siddown and quit doin’ that, kid,” Logan grumbled, watching Lorna pace the suite like an agitated lion as Sean made Erik more comfortable on the bed and dressed the small wound left from the sedative dart. The flesh was already purple around the point of impact, but aside from that he was merely groggy.

“Sit, Lorna,” Erik muttered, also feeling more restless each time she turned and paced in the opposite direction. She shot him a look of annoyance, but sank into the chair by the bed and began chewing her fingernail until it was ragged.

“Like that ain’t annoying either, Punkin’,” Logan informed her. This time, she merely made a face at him and stuck out her tongue. Erik chuckled, but winced as Sean tightened the bandage and adhered it with tape.

“I’ve done my best to work on my young charge’s manners, Wolverine; please don’t undo my efforts. She’s impressionable.”

“Am not,” she huffed. Sean grinned as he turned his back and put away the bandages. She reminded him of his daughter Theresa, who was just as outspoken, albeit less flamboyant with her clothes and hair.

“Ya acted like ya knew what those things were that attacked us,” Logan interjected, and Erik fixed him with a solemn gaze from his silver eyes, still puffed from fatigue. “So talk.”

“You might remember a Dr. Abraham Cornelius?” Logan’s face contorted with rage, and his skin flushed all the way down to his neck. “Ah, yes. You do.”

“What’s that fucker got ta do with what happened last night?”

“I have another piece of the puzzle.” He beckoned to Lorna to hand him his trenchcoat, which was folded neatly on the floor beside the bed. She obediently retrieved it, and he reached into the pocket for the flash drive. “Give this to Ororo. She may find it helpful.”

“Where’d ya get this, Mags?”

“From a safehouse of an old friend of mine, who regretfully took his own life before I could get more answers. A Robert Windsor, one of the directors of the Weapon X project that was funded by Department H?” Logan took the drive from him and studied it silently, still unwilling to give credence to anything his adversary had to tell him.

“Name rings a bell,” he grumbled. Erik smiled.

“Then perhaps you won’t shed a tear at the news that I found him with a bullet in his head,” he replied.

“Ain’t exactly cryin’ a river over it.” He felt a wave of remorse, however, when Lorna leaned forward and hugged herself, breathing in deeply through her nose, as though she were trying to master the urge to vomit. “Ya took a kid into that hell hole?” he accused.

“If that Prime unit had captured me, she would have seen worse.”

“Come along wi’ me, lassie, an’ we’ll make fer the kitchen, get ye somethin’ t’snack on,” Sean offered, nudging her gently and treating her to his boyish, dimpled smile.

“Isn’t Lassie that dog who’s always saving Timmy from the well?” They bantered back and forth like that the rest of the way out of the infirmary.

“Ya got yer hands full with that one. Speaking of which, that how ya get yer kicks these days, Mags, bustin’ kids outta lockup?”

“You saw the news report; she was defending herself during an armed robbery.”

“She resisted arrest and attempts to get her medical attention. Turnin’ that pawn shop ta rubble didn’t help, either. Guess ya didn’t hear the details on what happened before she ended up in that store. Her parents reported that she attacked them in their home and ran away.” It had been all over the news; Lorna’s mug shot with its battered eye makeup and mad hair were plastered all over the headlines and on CNN.

“The child was understandably upset. She’s never been at ease, being raised by baseline humans,” Erik murmured smoothly.

“Ya think she ain’t the first mutant ta be ‘raised by baselines’ and ta feel a little like the odd man out?”

“They weren’t her real parents. Lorna was adopted.”

“Ain’t no difference. She wouldn’t have had any business attackin’ ‘em even if they were blood.”

“She was overwrought. They planned to send her away to a school to deal with discipline issues, but they cared nothing for her gift. Not like this institute would,” he pointed out.

“Chuck never treated this school like a juvenile hall. Kids that come here still hafta behave, powers or no powers. Ya always figure ya know best. Just like ya thought ya did with Jeannie.” Erik settled back on the bed and sighed raggedly, closing his eyes with the same memories that kept Logan up at night. “Everyone needs ta follow the rules. Even you. That kid upstairs with Cassidy’s the only reason I ain’t shishkabobbin’ ya right now. She might take exception to that.” Logan moved to the refrigerator and yanked it open, reaching for a soda.

“She might, indeed, but not for the reasons she thinks,” Erik mused. “I’m her father.” Logan’s hands froze in the middle of popping open the tab. The liquid foamed over and dripped onto his boots.

“Fuck!”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Language! Does NO one observe any pleasantries anymore?”


~0~


Henry sat vigil in the Cerebro suite as Forge lay on his back, reaching up into the gutted console and removing circuitry panels as he disconnected the components from the interface. Henry nursed his third cup of coffee as he watched his labors.

“Ororo feels betrayed. Deeply betrayed.”

“I know.” He paused, eyeing him askance for a moment before going back to unplugging a handful of wires. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“Someone that you work for did. You know what this means. Someone’s been eavesdropping on your communications with me and this school ever since the inception of your upgrades to Cerebro.”

“I’ll let that logic rock me to sleep tonight,” Forge grumbled.

“More importantly, we’re no longer anonymous. We’ve been tagged like a herd and marked for slaughter. When the Prime units attacked, they knew our identities and codenames, as well as our power type, class and physical weaknesses. Cerebro is the only possible source for that kind of information. I’d bet my life on it that this is why your interface was tampered with, when someone in your department knew you were coming here.”

“That someone is Gyrich. I’d bet my life on it.”

“Gyrich.” Henry set down his coffee mug and joined him beside the console. “That’s the name that the Prime unit gave us before she died.” Forge ceased his tinkering and set his pliers aside as he backed out of the console and sat up. “Go through Gyrich, she said, to find what we can of where the Prime units came from.”

“That explains a lot,” Forge confirmed. “Particularly why he’s been making himself so scarce.”

“You know him?”

“I work with him.”


Twenty-four hours later:

“I don’t see why I hafta go to class,” Lorna snarled miserably.

“I don’t make the rules, chickie,” Jubilee shrugged, cracking her gum. “But we’re gonna be late. C’mon!” Ororo had agreed with Erik, something she hadn’t done in several years, that Lorna needed to avoid further truancy while they were deciding what to do with her. They still had no success getting through to the Danes’ residence on repeated calls.

“What are you learning here, anyway? Basket weaving?”

“Nope. Flight class with Mr. Cassidy. You’ll love it!”

“And bring ear plugs,” Kitty advised. Before Lorna could ponder the dubious advice, she was shuffled by two pairs of hands tugging her along by the arms.

So far, all of the students she’d seen so far lingering in the halls and in the kitchen made her classmates at Westchester High look like poster children for Wonder Bread. No snotty cheerleaders or fussy fashionistas like Paige and Monet, or safe little posers like Doug and Jono. Lorna dragged her feet to class, balking when they reached the door.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she carped. The classroom was growing crowded, and Lorna was becoming steadily more claustrophobic.

“Sure you should,” Kitty insisted. Lorna’s only comfort was that the bubbly brunette and her friend reminded her of Ali, whom she suddenly missed so much it hurt.

She squealed in terror as she felt herself yanked through the wall in lieu of waiting their turn to file through the door.

“Holyshitdon’tdothatagain!” Kitty grinned while Jubilee just rolled her eyes. Lorna was thoroughly unnerved, and her blue eyes sparked with indignance.

“Creeped me out the first time she pulled that with me, too.”

“Didn’t last long, if the sparkler you tossed down the back of my neck was any indication. Ruined my favorite shirt,” Kitty reminded her.

“Sparkler?”

“Yup. Little self-contained plasmoids of energy. They make a big bang, depending on how much juice I put into ‘em. Pretty to look at, too.”

“Wow. I have a friend who can do something like that. Minus that whole ‘exploding’ thing.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” She fished in her pocket for her pack of Wrigley’s and handed it to Lorna, who was about to take a piece until the tall, strawberry blond instructor who showed her around the house the night before swept into the large classroom. Jubilee promptly spat the piece she had in her mouth into her hand, hiding it behind her back. Kitty plucked up the sticky glob and snuck it into the wastebasket, phasing it free from her fingers.

“Hope ye brought enough fer ev’rybody, lass,” Sean admonished as he began diagramming the day’s lesson on the chalkboard, his back turned as Jubilee was about to tuck the gum back into her pocket. She groaned and marched up to his desk, plopping the pack onto his blotter before resuming her seat. Lorna giggled.


~0~

“All right. Run that by me again?”

“There was a time when I lived among humans instead of surrounding myself with people who possessed gifts like mine. I was married to someone whom I loved very, very much. She was a baseline human. I met her while I was held at Auschwitz, and when I planned my escape from the camp, she came with me. She was the only light in my miserable life until she gave birth to our daughter, Anya.”

“That doesn’t gel, bub. yer talkin’ about being in Auschwitz, durin’ the war? Lorna’s only a kid.”

“Anya was my firstborn.” His eyes clouded, and he didn’t seem to acknowledge his host as he continued his tale, growing lost in it. “She was perfect from the moment the midwife handed her to me. Bright. Beautiful. She never cried, and she spread joy wherever she walked. Anya and I could only afford to rent a tiny cottage in Vinnitsa. We needed money; the only position I found was as a builder, and the compensation was scant at best. The foreman felt an immediate dislike for me, and he tried to cheat me of my wages. I fought back. It was the first time I ever struck out in vengeance, using my gift. Word spread fast. I was a wanted man.”

“Ain’t exactly easy ta hide,” Logan agreed. “Times haven’t changed all that much.”

“My neighbors informed the authorities of where Magda and I lived. I went to find Magda and warn her that they were looking for me, but when I returned, there was smoke rising from the roof. My daughter was trapped inside.” His breath hitched, but he remained composed. Logan grunted briefly in pity.

“Damn.”

“The foreman and his crew beat me and held me down while my daughter burned to death. They took the one thing from me that I couldn’t afford to lose. She was my life. She was my future. I reacted without thinking. I reached out with my hand, and felt the power coursing through me. I felt and heard the metal calling me, this time rushing through their veins, and I made it expand and increase in volume until it could no longer be contained by its vessels. I tore them apart. And all I could hear were my wife’s screams.”

“Keeps ya up at night, don’t it?” Logan muttered. “The screams. When ya kill, and ya feel like ya had no choice. Even when it’s just ‘baseline humans,’ it still carries a cost. I’m sorry they did that, Magneto. Sorry they took away yer family, when that was all ya had. I know that kind of pain better than most people, and I wouldn’t wish it on a dog.” Logan’s face was stoic, but his eyes reflected shared grief and remembered anguish. For the only time since he’d known the gruff, feral Canadian, Erik realized they were cut from the same cloth.

“Magda was horrified, but she had no one. She stayed with me out of necessity. She wouldn’t allow me to touch her for a long time, on those rare instances where I craved her comfort, no matter how cold. I knew she blamed me for what happened to Anya. It was in her eyes and in her voice. That first night, she called me a monster. I never felt any differently about myself until I met Charles, but by then, Magda deserted me. She left our home one night and never came back. Foolishly, I had believed that she had finally come to terms with what happened, since she stayed with me over twenty years. Have you ever held someone who made your arms still feel empty, Wolverine?” Logan blinked, knowing Erik would offer him the answer if he just shut his own mouth. “Magda believed I had taken everything from her, and I didn’t know how to give it back. I believe she took my unborn child with her.”

“What makes ya so sure, bub? Ya wanna make yer case that she can do everything you can and then some, that’s one thing, but I thought I was the only one of my kind, healing factor, claws and all, til I met yer second asshole in command, Sabertooth. That don’t make him my brother,” Logan huffed. “When ya broke Petunia out of jail, didja run for the swab and scrape up a few cheek cells? Better yet, have ya told her yer revelations and theory about the only parents she’s ever known not bein’ her biological ones? Not every ugly duckling knows it’s a swan; sometimes they’ve gotta swim with the first thing that quacks.”

“Still eloquent as ever.”

“And ya still hafta wonder how well she’ll take it that her father’s a terrorist, even if ya tell her. Kid’s got nothing, Mags. Her whole life got turned upside down, she doesn’t have a home, and until she mends fences with her parents, she doesn’t have a family.”

“I could be that family.”

“Excuse my lack of faith. Charlie believed in ya and accepted ya like a brother, from what Cyke told me once upon a time, and ya didn’t have a problem cutting him off and goin’ after his nearest and dearest.” Erik wavered a moment; his demeanor and scent changed at the mention of his departed former colleague. “Most of whom are kids, just like our Lorna.”

“My Lorna,” Erik corrected him bluntly. “She senses a connection between us. If you beg so much to differ, Wolverine, feel free to test me; this infirmary is certainly equipped.”

“I ain’t gonna walk up ta her and demand she open up and say ‘ahhhh,” he growled. “Storm ain’t gonna be open ta testin’ her ta give that kid one more reason ta think her life is a lie. Bein’ a mutant’s hard enough. Doesn’t help that you’ve made your agenda clear about not liking baseline humans much, what with tryin’ ta slaughter all of ‘em like so many cattle.”

“They haven’t given me reason to believe they shouldn’t be. Humans took away my family, and ultimately any vestige of mercy I ever had. They started this war, Wolverine, not me.”

“Ya forgot one thing, Mags. Lorna’s a kid. She’s young. She’s a mutant, and a pretty powerful one at that. Ya used ta help Charley teach incoming ‘new blood’ for the sake of controlling their powers, but since I’ve known ya, yer interest lies in recruiting ‘em ta fight this little ‘war.’ Do ya want Lorna as a daughter, or as a soldier? Sharin’ this part of yer life with her and bending her ta think it’s fine ta kill, as long as they aren’t mutants sounds like doin’ the same thing ta her that was done t’you.” Logan wasn’t expecting the wry smile and deprecating chuckle. Erik stared at him with an odd gleam in his eye.

“Look at what the humans did to you, Wolverine. Look at what they’ve taken from you. You were recruited for this war by the Weapon X project, created, planned and funded by humans.” Logan growled, barely restraining the urge to pop his claws and fillet him, just to get him to shut up. “Your disposition hasn’t mellowed much since then.”

“How the fuck would you know?”

“How did I know where to find Windsor’s safehouse?” Erik twisted the knife more deeply. Logan felt his stomach bob and twist, and his breathing quickened dangerously; Erik eyed him with amusement, despite the feral’s stance of an animal preparing to lunge at its prey. “Despite the government’s stance on the dangers of mutants roaming at large among its populace, they still find us useful. Charles and I shared a mutual love of genetics, but my other talents were what interested Windsor when he approached me with his proposition. You recall our encounter at the train station?”

“That ain’t something a guy forgets, but thanks for pourin’ vinegar on it.”

“That was the second time you and I met, my friend.” For the first time in his long, tortured existence, Logan felt himself grow pale.

SNIKT…

“Ya mind runnin’ that by me again?”

“Don’t be foolish, Wolverine, put those away. Or I will.” Logan sensed an almost invasive current creeping along his nerve endings, literally feeling Erik’s intent in his bones.

“Then explain yerself!”

“Adamantium doesn’t just create itself, you know. And who better to divulge its secrets than someone who can shape metal like clay? Cornelius and Windsor had been interested in you for a long time, Wolverine. I thought a man like you would have been better at covering your tracks.”

“Sonofabitch.” Logan’s voice sounded like someone else’s. “You helped Stryker, Cornelius, and those other bastards do this ta me?”

Does that remarkable metal run through your entire body?

“No. I had no part in the adamantium feed itself. I merely tempered the adamantium needed for the Weapon X project. The Prime units were only in the planning and conception stages when Windsor and I parted ways. Prime was meant to be a means to an end for their mutant problem; to me, I saw an available opportunity to further my own cause. Enhanced, mutant soldiers that would help take back what the humans stole from us.”

Woodenly, Logan stalked to the intercom, never taking his eyes from Erik as he depressed the button. “HANK!” he bellowed.

“How’s our patient doing?”

“Breathin’. Now come down here before I hafta show him his intestines.”

“Oh, not on your best day!” Erik purred.

“If yer lyin’, ya might make it outta here in one piece.”

“Everything you need is on that drive,” he shrugged. “You’ll realize soon enough that I’m telling you the truth.”

“That ain’t gonna change a damned thing. Ya’ve damned me, ya sick fuck! No matter how ya package it up and try ta wrap it in a pretty bow, YOU DID THIS TO ME!”

“The same ones who did this to you also gave you the weapons to fight back. A wise man spends his life moving forward, not looking back.”

“Yer not the one ta give out that kinda shitty advice. You, least of all, bub.” Henry swept inside and paused, letting his senses tell him what he needed to know. Logan’s pulse was erratic, and he smelled his tension all the way from the door. The look on his face spoke of pure, unadulterated hatred.

“Go,” Henry ordered simply.

“Gladly,” he barked before stomping out. Henry watched him depart and suddenly didn’t envy anyone who stumbled into his path. He turned back to Erik and treated him to a menacing, leonine scowl, baring his teeth, just challenging Erik to bait him.

“We’re both men of knowledge and action, Henry.”

“Despite appearances, I’m more of a man than you, Erik. And don’t provoke me.”



~0~

She heard his footsteps while she was updating the syllabus in Charles’ study and instantly saved her file, rising from her chair and hurrying into the hall. Logan walked like a man ready to do damage and think later.

That didn’t bode well.

She wasn’t surprised when he made his way outside, heading toward the woods beyond the cemetery. The anger animated him, changing the set of his spine and making him move smoothly and efficiently, like a machine. She didn’t want to know what brought about this change in him so suddenly. Not yet.

Logan ignored the rush of wind whipping behind him and making his clothes flutter. He already knew its source, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He caught her scent as soon as she followed him out the door, and a few placating words or reminders of how hardheaded she thought he was acting wouldn’t do it this time.

She landed light as a feather a few feet in front of him and stood her ground imperiously, hands on her hips and feet planted apart like a five-pointed star.

“Move,” he grunted.

“What happened?”

“Ya don’t wanna talk ta me right now, Storm!” His use of her codename should have been warning enough.

“Don’t make me have to.”

“There ain’t room in that big, fancy schoolhouse for me and that fucking asshole yer sheltering under Charlie’s roof!”

“We needed to know why he came here. He knows more about the Prime mutants who attacked us.”

“That ain’t the half of it,” Logan snarled. His pupils were dilated, and the veins stood out in his neck. “Now get outta the way.” He skirted around her attempts to pull him back, easily evading her grip and extending his claws.

She said nothing as he emitted a guttural roar, taking out his bile on an enormous, proud oak. Slash after slash of his six gleaming claws shredded its bulk into kindling. Large splinters exploded from the trunk like shrapnel, and Ororo winced as they ricocheted against his flesh, drawing blood, but he carried on as though he didn’t feel their impact. He gritted his teeth, drawing savage satisfaction in the destruction and the feel of the wood cleaving apart. Ororo never wavered; she assessed the angle of the tree’s descent before it began to topple and she sidestepped out of the way. She stood without fear as she watched the ripple of his muscles at play within his body and the sheen of sweat breaking out over his tanned skin.

He’s inside. I’m out here. I ain’t breakin’ any rules. Ain’t down in that fuckin’ lab, tearing his arm off and beatin’ him over the head with it… Logan lectured himself soundly as he went to work on the fallen tree, cutting until his knuckles oozed blood, but it was a good pain. The kind he inflicted on himself was the sweetest. He was in control. Each chop and dice of the wood brought him closer to the goal, in his mind’s eye, of Erik lying mangled and bleeding at his feet, begging him for mercy that he never spared for Logan or anyone else.

Ororo stood placidly behind him; he felt her eyes easing over him, again without fear. He sensed her tension, and also concern, but he wasn’t finished by a long shot. Rage drove him into a frenzy, and curses flew from his lips in a growling, raspy jumble. His misery was tangible. Ororo felt its sting, and she was grimly drawn back into the worst day of her life.

Her arms remembered the feel of him, rocking back and forth against her and quaking, all hope destroyed amidst the ruins. She’d choked back dust, her body aching from the sting of the flying rubble, despite her protective uniform. His eyes were haunted and lost, and agony was written on his face, marring its rugged beauty and breaking her heart. Denial strangled her own screams in her throat. She felt the burn in her muscles as she stretched herself around him, trying to shield him from the sight of Charles’ empty chair and the callous murder they’d both witnessed by the woman they trusted and loved. She wanted to envelop him, and to offer him an anchor. She could do nothing but hold him. It was a horrific thing to watch the Wolverine, the strongest man she knew, mired in helplessness and broken.

She offered him her strength. She felt the answering grasp of his hand in hers, his grip so hard that it bit into her fingers, but she held on. His sobs were low and ragged, eventually mingling with her own.

In the end, nothing she had to say calmed him; exhaustion set in, and his blows slowed as his hands flared and throbbed from the brunt of each strike.

I ain’t an animal. The revelation beat a relentless tattoo in his heart, and he felt the squeeze in his ribs. The blood rushed from his head as he staggered, and he finally slumped against the jagged stump, ignoring its rough, unyielding surface.

Her scent still beckoned to him. He felt her presence again at his back. The faint breeze still caressed him, offering him what solace it could.

“Seemed like ya were in a big fuckin’ hurry ta leave me before, Storm. What’s keepin’ ya? Go back inside.”

“I won’t,” she informed him crisply. Her voice was soft but firm; part of him craved the chance to stab with his words. He drew no quarter.

“Ya’ve got yer fuckin’ hands full, woman. Too many houseguests are like fish; after a while, they stink just as bad. How could ya let that fucker in here, after all he’s done?”

“Lorna was my immediate concern. And he wouldn’t set foot here unless we were sorely needed.”

“Only thing he sorely needs is his ass kicked. Ya might as well have handed him a shopping cart and told him to take his pick of the kids! That’s what he’s good at, darlin’, leadin’ all of the ones he can trap like lambs ta the slaughter. Here,” he snapped, reaching into his pocket for the flash drive. “Take this away from me. I’m gonna be out here fer a while. Share whatever’s on it with Blue and that other dickhead ya let in here. He ain’t any better. When ya lie down with filth, yer likely ta get dirty.”

“How. Dare. You.” She snatched the flash drive from him, eyes blazing an icy blue right before they began to glow their signature white. Barely suppressed lightning danced in their depths. “Whom I choose to lie down with is none of your affair.” The memory of Logan’s kiss burned, but she still had business to settle with Forge. Ugly business, indeed.

“Yer right. It ain’t. So go ahead. Don’t let me keep ya from that traitor ya were suckin’ face with. Keepin’ our enemies closer than yer friends, eh?”

“Don’t treat me like the enemy, then.”

“The only kinda friend I want ya ta be, Storm, is the kind with benefits. Thought I made that clear downstairs.” She ignored his snide look, even though it rankled. His eyes flashed amber, a sign that he wasn’t finished with his attack.

“I’ll make note of that. But you wouldn’t have stayed this long after Jean was taken from us if you didn’t feel there was something worth staying for. And that something doesn’t have to be me. This isn’t about me.”

“You and Charlie’s little mission ain’t it.” It was a lie that he despised as soon as it left his lips. “Don’t flatter yerself. And don’t throw Jeannie at me if ya don’t wanna get hurt.”

“I’m still not your enemy. What is this?” she inquired, holding up the drive.

“Magneto gave it ta me. Open it up and show it to Forge. Stick it up his ass. I don’t care what ya do with it.” He waved her away impatiently. “Probably his kink, anyway. Give him my regards. Tell him I told him to ‘implant’ it where the sun don’t shine.” Ororo cocked one haughty brow.

“Come inside and tell him yourself.”

“I’m fine where I am.”

“You’re not fine.”

“Then let me be pissed off in peace.”

“This isn’t peace.”

“I can go at it all day like this.”

“So can I.” The sky rumbled sonorously overhead and grew dark. Logan gave his rage its head as he spun on her, claws extending even though his flesh had just healed, reopening his wounds.

“THIS IS WHAT THEY DID TA ME! They trapped me like a fucking ANIMAL! They tore me open just ta see me BLEED! They kept cutting inta me ta watch me heal before they’d cut me again! Then they pumped me full of this fucking poison, when they knew they hadn’t done enough. They wanted a weapon. Nothin’ else. Magneto had a part in that! The same motherfucker that Charlie treated like a BROTHER! Who claims ta wanna save mutants from the humans? Whose gonna save the mutants from HIM? These,” he gestured to his claws, hands shaking, “were because of HIM.”

The glowing fire in her eyes extinguished, leaving behind only sorrow. The rolling clouds gradually ebbed away, barely breaking the blue.

“They did this to me,” he continued, “and cut into me, but he handed ‘em the knife.” SNAKT. He stared down at his hands, and she felt him retreat into himself again, and the voices in her head rose in a clamor that she couldn’t allow it.

He was trembling. No tears fell, and as much as her own sorrow choked her, she marshaled her strength and stifled the ones that pricked at her eyes.

He felt her first touch and fought against it, batting at her hands and flinging them away from him. “Don’t.” His anger was the only thing holding him together; he wouldn’t abandon it. “I don’t need anything from you right now, Storm.”

“I need something from you.”

“I’m all out.”

“I don’t believe that. I need you to trust me when I say that I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, before you came to us. You told Charles that you had very little memory of what was done to you. There are some things that the human mind, and that the spirit will not accept. You’ve been so strong, for so long, and fighting down the pain, Logan. Healing over old wounds, again and again, but it doesn’t take away the pain. You’ve let it remain, because you don’t think you have anything else left. You cling to it. And it’s consuming you.”

“Bullshit.” He still felt her eyes on him. It burned. Her truth burned.

“You pushed aside those memories for a reason. From what we knew of Stryker, they tried to take them from you to suit their own purpose. So you would think what they wanted you to think. Kill who they wanted you to kill. Make you a blank slate. Train you.”

“Shut. Up.” His clenched jaw began to ache. He hated it about her, and loved it about her, that she wouldn’t back down or turn away. Her words hit home, and the beast within him snarled in warning.

“Only when you hear me out.”

“I’ve heard enough. I don’t know how or when we’re gonna figure out how ta deal with these so-called Prime mutants, Storm, but the only thing I’m gonna promise you is that I’ll do my part, and then to hell with you. I’m done. This ain’t my dream. It’s just the same fuckin’ nightmare but with a different spin. I can’t tell my enemies from my friends anymore. Do ya really wanna be the one twisting the knife?”

This time her grip on him was firm and swift, and he smelled ozone building in the air, stinging his nostrils.

“Ya wanna let go now.” She felt power spring into his muscles, and he bared his teeth, exposing gleaming white canines that would cow anyone else.

“I’ve never wanted to let go. So, to hell with me. I’m not so easy to chase away.”

“Then yer not very smart,” he accused, still attempting to shake her off. She clung to him like moss. Her scent enticed him, and he nearly moaned at the feel of her arms entwining him with her strength. He was still haunted by Magneto’s words, and with the vision burned into his memory of his guardian angel hurling lightning from her fingertips. He wouldn’t crumble.

Ororo wouldn’t be denied. Each time he succeeded in prying away her hands she reached for him again, tirelessly while she took advantage of his exhaustion from bringing down the tree. In the back of his mind, Logan wondered if that had been her aim all along. Her skin was soft, and her natural scent bore a touch of sandalwood and lavender, and he caught her wrist in his grip for one tense moment, his chest heaving like a bellows.

He relaxed his grip and drew her hand against his chest, flattening it against him. His heartbeat pulsed beneath her fingers as he absorbed her warmth. She enveloped him, and no words were needed as he accepted the comfort she gave. She bent forward over him and once again rocked him soothingly, and her silky hair caressed his face. He felt her tuck her chin into the nook where his shoulder met his sturdy neck, and again she felt his thundering pulse. The rhythm of her breathing matched his and he shut his eyes, just allowing himself to dwell within that moment. She rubbed her cheek plaintively against his, not caring about the rough, scratchy layer of stubble. He was solid within her embrace, even as he accepted the support she gave, and she was rewarded with the relaxing of his knotted muscles and his low sigh, still so full of pain.

“Ororo, I didn’t mean-“

“Hush,” she murmured. “You’ve never said anything that you didn’t mean, on some level. That isn’t you.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes regret what I say.”

“Life’s too short for regret. Even for someone who’s lived as long as you.” He felt the tender press of her lips in his thick, wavy hair. Much like she had before, she tucked his hand within hers and felt the familiar stroke of his calloused thumb. “Still want me to go to hell?”

“Ya wouldn’t be alone. I’d just end up keepin’ ya company.”

“Friends do that,” she agreed. He heard the crack of her smile.

“Yeah, they do.” She breathed in his scent, a mixture of cigar smoke, perspiration and a hint of the shampoo he’d used earlier that morning, and she was comforted by it.

She was loathe to leave him. “I want Henry there to go over the contents of this with me,” she announced, and he felt the moment that she recovered herself and put her game face back on. She still eased him slowly from her embrace, her hands still greedy for him as she backed away. Her touch lingered on his flesh, and he felt the ache of her withdrawal just as keenly.

“Do what ya have ta do.”

“If…if it isn’t too much to ask…”

“It is. But I’ll be there after I have a smoke.” He was already reaching into his shirt pocket for his hand-rolled Cuban and pearl-handled Zippo. Before she could leave, he muttered “What about Magneto?”

“Lorna’s still my immediate concern. Until we know how many of the Prime mutants we’re up against and where they came from, we need to know what he knows. I would like her to stay.”

“That’s gonna be complicated, darlin’.”

“No less so than the fact that she’s a fugitive.”

“It ain’t just that. While he was gettin’ me good and riled up down in the lab, he told me somethin’ that just made what ta do with him that much harder.”

“And?”

“He said the kid’s his daughter.”





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