"For gods sake so something!" Logan roared kneeling over Storm's crumpled body. He scooped her limp form into his chest protectively, trying to shield her from harm, even though the damage was already done. The warm sticky liquid of Storm's blood flowed down his bare arms, and caused his t-shirt to cling to his chest. His hands frantically tried to stop her blood oozing from her open wounds. Ororo's silver white hair was no longer recognisible with all the blood and dirt. Logan's shoulders shook with suppressed anger as he tried to control the rage threatening to consume him. "She has to be ok, she's going to be ok" was all Logan was chanting in his mind, trying to convince himself.

Far off sirens sounded in the distance, barely heard over the screams and shouts of people scared and in pain. The rest of the x-men continued to battle, trying to save as many people as they could and stop the sentinels. Logan didn't care about anything else at that moment except the woman in his arms. Destruction surrounded Logan, while the sun shone mockingly down on his back, as if all were well in the world.

Logan looked up from his vigil over Ororo, seeing that Scott had remained standing still beside him. "What are you still doing here!!!? She's dying! Go get help NOW!" He screamed with unshed tears glistening in his ebony eyes, while his wolfish hair clung to his face from sweat and dirt. He clutched Storm's body closer to his chest, as if it would some how lessen the damage. Scott slowly bent down to Logan's level, his voice cracking with emotion.

"She's gone Logan....she's gone." He cried quietly, clutching Logan's shoulders in a supportive grip.

"No!" He growled shrugging off Scott's hands. "She's still alive...sh's still..she's.." Logan looked down at Ororo's broken body, her face was pale and vacant eyes looked up at him, her lips already slightly tinged with blue. "She can't be dead!" He shouted deperately at Scott. "She ....she didn't even know that I......." he stuttered defeatedly with tears flowing freely down his face. He looked up to the sky and let a guttural roar rip through his throat full of anguish and pain, causing the veins in his neck to bulge with the strain. His claws sprung out from his hands. All he saw was red, all he felt was pain. The rage, the anger, that was all that was left now, the animal wanting its revenge. He was going to kill every single bastard, track down every single one of them responsible and make them suffer.





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