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Chapter 10: Break

Skies over Seattle, Washington
This is Logan…

He journeys through a world that’s between dreams and cruel reality. A place where none of the wrongs things are right, where the noble good are sacrificed and those that are evil are free to commit murder against the innocent unopposed. In a dark world that’s just too sick, he still struggles to do the right thing, but he is always met with failure. Because this is his life, this is his existence, his nature of pure chaos.

He doesn’t remember the trip back to the Blackbird or the numerous wandering glances that turned to his direction during his trek. He barely registers the gentle rocking of the jet as it lifts from the ground, cutting through the sky, its thrusters burning and rumbling as they make their way home.

What he hears now are the voices. Not the ones being said, but the words that aren’t. There is a deathly silence that roams through the confines of the black jet, possessing the five people that are its occupants. With the sharp-edged stare of the accused, his gray eyes dart around to every solemn looking face.

He knows what’s they’re thinking. He knows they’re all secretly mocking him, that there is laughter when he’s not looking because he, the mighty Wolverine, finally was harmed. That he with all his boasting, strength, and swagger was still viciously wounded. Now they’re all patiently waiting for him to crack. They’re waiting for him to break. As his knuckles tighten up to steel wrenching fists, he swears to himself, he won’t.

He’s seen death. He has seen tragedy. He’s seen and lived through things a thousand times worst. This was just one more chapter to his already fucked up life. He’ll survive, that’s what he’s always done.

He can’t break… He won’t break… He can’t break…

OoOoOo

This is the Beast’s Logan…

It sits with him on the quiet trip back.

It watches in silence as he shrugs off and ignores the others attempts at ‘comforting’ him. As if mere words could erase the past. As if simple conversation could reshape or wipe away those events... How can anyone say, “I know what you’re going through”? Were they, the ones targeted? Could they smell the fear, the blood, his semen, or her tears? How could they ever know!

But the Beast knows. It’s been there from the beginning. It will be there in the end. It always knows.

It recalls with him, every moment in that dark chamber when he saw that girl. It remembers that cold damp room. It remembers the scent of blood, his musk, and her fear. It watches as he hurts himself by remembering, for an instant it will share his pain as well. It has to they’re the same…

Stark Industries Laboratories
Seattle, Washington
Forty-Five Minutes Ago…

He is no longer the Beast. He is not longer the man. He is grief, misery, and anger filed into one earthbound flesh, that’s tearing itself from the inside out.

A roar that is no more human than his namesake thunders from inside him reverberating against those four concrete walls. His body shakes with unbridled rage as the scent of death and blood continues to brew around him, but he does not see. He refuses to see, because this wasn’t his fault. How could he let another innocent be harmed because of him?

He is held in the grips of madness. He’s held in the grips of his fear. He cannot make sense of anything anymore, but only one thing is clear to him, “We gotta get her down! We have to hurry!” Logan cries again, sights looking up to that girl. His wide vacant eyes falling into the illusion of hope, pleading that he wasn’t too late, that he wasn’t the cause of another innocent life to be taken.

The coldness of metallic arms in case around him binding him in an unbreakable hold; Logan lets out a snarl as he turns to stare into the cold steel-cased eyes of Colossus. He struggles, fights, and roars as he tries to tear his body away from the Russian’s grip. “Let me go, ya fuckin’ asshole! I can save her! We can save her! We can save her!!” he shouts and demands.

Ororo could only look on in open shock at the transformation that suddenly taken place over the usual calm and collect mutant. His pain. His real pain and anger was almost tangible, piecing through her heart almost as much as it was affecting him. She then quickly raced in front of him, her voice pleading with him, trying to make him understand, to see reason, “You can’t help her Logan she’s gone!” she cried her eyes looking to him, “She’s gone!”

Ororo shouts her words again and again through his struggle and wrath, through his haze of anger and denial. For a moment it almost seemed like he was completely lost to her, then all at once Logan’s eyes fell away from that girl. His steel gray eyes lock onto her sapphire blue eyes. The look…the lost, the helpless look that was in his eyes, sent a stab of agony into her heart that would haunt her for days. Her eyes shimmered with tears as she softly whispered, “She’s gone…” She closed her eyes, her soft hands gently held onto him as the fight finally left him.

And then it finally set in. This woman, who he's never met, who never did anything to anyone, was brutally violated and murdered just for a calling card for him. Just for some sick fuck’s idea of a joke.

For a moment he closes his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the scent of rain and sandalwood, then without so much a word he violently tears himself away from them both. He spares neither one of them a glance before he stalks out of the room. His walk seemed to be weighed down by the burden of millions.

An instant later Cyclops and Jean rush inside with Forge fast on their heels, “What’s going on? What’s happened here?” Summers shouts automatically trying to take charge of seemingly chaotic situation, but in a moment he looks and is speechless. Jean gasps her hand covering her mouth as the glimmer of tears formed in her emerald eyes.

Passing the two the Wolverine utters only one word, “Creed…” before he departs.

OoOoOo

As the memory leaves him, the Beast watches as he sinks further and further into his sorrow. It remains quiet though. It does not roar. It cannot rage. In the first time in eternity it finds itself simply powerless. Because it has realized that some things even the Beast cannot overcome.

OoOoOo

Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters
Westchester, New York
Late in the Afternoon…

She had been watching him for an hour now.

When they first arrived back at the mansion he instantly drew away from the rest of them. His faced clouded. His step filled with pain. His mind seemed to be a thousand miles from here. Then he went outside, alone, to be in the comforting presence of nature to simply watch the horizon. And there he remained.

The others joined her in her watch briefly, all equally concerned as she. He had said so little to anyone during the trip home. And for a time they wondered if he was in danger of harming himself or perhaps anyone else. But after sometime they simply decided to leave him to his privacy and departed.

Only she remained. Only she continued to watch over him.

She couldn’t even imagine all of what he was going through. Every minute of that hour she constantly fought with herself to go out there and be with him, to talk to him, to find out what was going through his mind. Maybe even help if she could. And another part of her was too scared to find out.

So preoccupied with her vigil and inner dilemma that she hardly noticed when Charles pulled up beside her. He briefly shared her vision of the solemn looking Canadian who scarcely moved from his place outside, then his clear blue eyes shifted to look over the forlorn woman before him. He still remembered the cloudy day when Ororo first came to the mansion. He remembered it fondly because after an hour into their first meeting the Sun started to pierce through those ominous clouds turning it into one of the brightest days in July.

He could fondly remember several different instances and memories that over the years bridged their relationship from teacher to student, to father and daughter. He felt that all of his X-Men and students were extensions of him self and in fact his family. But now another storm approached the shores of his home and just like always he was willing and ready to lend any support that he could offer.

“I’ve just been on the phone with Forge,” he began. His words were gentle, soft; as if he didn’t need to know all of the details before hand to understand how trying today’s events were on everyone. “He said he’s already talked with Tony and his superiors. They’re going to do everything they can in their power to make sure that girl’s name never reaches the Press.”

The older man’s words barely registered to the woman as she listlessly muttered a brief, “Uh...Huh…” Her eyes and thoughts still focused on the silent sentry outside.

Xavier calm as ever tried a different approach. ‘How is he?’ Xavier suddenly communicated to her mentally.

The slight mental inquiry seemed to break Ororo out of her trance. She looked over to Charles appearing as if for the first time she was aware of his presence. She then sighed as weariness and helplessness of the situation seemed to creep into her lovely face, “I don’t know,” Ororo responded, her voice seemed to reflect how truly lost she felt, “I’ve been too afraid to go talk to him. He’s just been sitting there ever since we arrived back from Seattle. But I shouldn’t…?” her distressed voice asked while shaking her head, “I mean shouldn’t I go talk to him at least? He shouldn’t be alone,” she tried to reason, but then shook her head in confusion, “But I just can’t…”

Charles guiding himself forward, gently taking her hand, his other hand folded overtop of hers in a reassuring grip, his understanding eyes falling on her, “Why don’t you just give him some time and yourself as well,” he mildly suggested.

At hearing his words Ororo only shook his head again, “You didn’t see him Charles,” she pleaded, trying to explain, “The look on his face when he found her. It was as he was reliving the moment all over again.” She cringed at the thought of having to experience something like that twice in a lifetime. She then took a minute as her memory from that moment started to resurface, “He said someone’s name, “Fox”, I think.”

Charles considered it for a moment, “Perhaps someone from his past?”

“I don’t know,” Ororo stated while throwing up her arms in a loss, “The more I think about it the more furious I get.” Her blue eyes then sharpened to thin slits, “I can never forgive Sabertooth for this…” The distant sound of rolling thunder rumbled, echoing her thoughts. The heavens above suddenly started to turn a dull gray.

Ororo watched as Logan’s head drifted up looking to the sky. She instantly chided herself at her temporary loss of control. Closing her eyes and taking a small calming breath, the next instant when Ororo open them the powerful milky white gaze of her mutation took over. She eased the rising torment winds and calmed the sky, returning it to its usual fiery orange color of an approaching sunset.

Xavier watched the woman’s momentary lax of control with great concern. He realized the woman was nearing her breaking point as well. He was at a lost to what he could do for Logan at the moment, but he would not fail his daughter. “Come child,” he said to her kindly, “Let’s go make ourselves some tea and we can talk about what move we should make next.”

The kind-reassuring smile on Charles’ face eased Ororo inner anxiety tremendously. The older man did know all of her vices and a nice cup of tea would do wonders for calming her nerves, “Ok, get the kettle ready, I’ll join you in a minute.” A small resemblance of a smile found it way to the woman’s lips.

Charles stared after her a moment longer before he ventured to the kitchen. While departing he realized, whatever the outcome may be from today’s events, he knew that things were forever changed amongst his family.

OoOoOo

Ororo knew she promised to join Charles shortly, but even now she still felt as though there was something that she should be doing. If she left now it would be just as well as abandoning him. Her blue eyes continued to watch the gentle rise and fall from his broad shoulders as he continued his penance. Ororo closed her eyes; her head fell against cool glass as she mentally debated on what to do.

She couldn’t begin to say she understood this connection that seemed to have grown between them. The first moment he walked into the mansion, she thought he was the most vile, crudest, barbarian she ever had been unfortunate to set eyes on. And for the moment it seemed like that’s all it was. Sure she found him unbelievably attractive, what woman wouldn’t? But a pretty package wasn’t what Ororo was looking for.

But the more she saw of him, she began to see that he was so much more than what he conveyed, much more than he even saw in himself. There was a quiet nobility inside of him, in his gestures and his words. It was so evident now that she was almost ashamed at how she quickly assumed that he would bring harm to any of the children. She knew now that he’d probably risk life and death to protect them all, just like she would.

Yet there was still more to it. The looks they shared. The brief touches. …Especially that smoldering kiss that still rang echoes in her body. There was something changing about her, because of him and that was what truly was frightening her. Ororo’s eyes slowly opened as truth of her situation stood now before her. She was at a crossroads. She could venture forth and take that step into uncertainty or she could continue to play it safe like she’s been doing. The way her life’s been up to this point.

Before Ororo could even come to a decision it seemed the opportunity was taking out of her hands. From the distance, she saw someone approaching.

A long green cloak folded around the girl’s slender body, her gloved hands folded in front of her as she nervously continued her trek till she was standing before him. Whatever trance Logan seemed to be held in was instantly broken as he gazed up to the young teenage girl with the chocolate brown eyes and the southern charm.

For a moment nothing was said between the two of them. No words, no exchange what so ever. But in a moment a touched breath escaped from Ororo as she saw the girl drop down beside him, throwing her arms around him in such a loving embrace that even though Ororo was not psychically gifted, she still could feel the emotions and affection brewing from the girl.

She instantly envied the girl’s strength. She wished, as she turned away to finally join Charles, that she could find a little of that strength in herself.

OoOoOo

This is Marie’s Logan…

To her, he is indestructible.

He is untouchable.

He cannot be harmed.

He is a hero. Not in the comic book sense of the word, but a real hero, her hero. He has flaws. He has his bad habits, but still he’s a hero. He’s her hero. But now someone hurt him. So bad in a way he can’t defend against nor can he fight back. Now he’s hurting so much and she doesn’t know how to help him. So in the end all Marie can do is just hold him.

The fact they are both separated by cloth and fabric is irrelevant because it is an embrace that is more intimate and more heartfelt than all years she’s experienced in her short life. His warm broad back shutters against her slender body as her arms tighten around him, but he does not break. He will not break for her because even at his weakest, he will be strong for her. He will always be strong for her, because he knows she still needs him too. Because even though he hurts, even though he’s in pain, he’s still her hero.

So she weeps the tears he cannot shed. And she cries out the words he dares not shout, because his pain is her pain too. She wants to do more. She would move the world if it was possible. But she realizes she’s only sixteen, still a child in a very grown up situation. The only thing that’s stopping her from running from him, the mansion, the world it self, is love…her love for him.

So now she figures if I’m with him a little longer, hold him a little bit tighter, it might make some of the bad things go away…

OoOoOo

Ororo’s Loft
Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters
Westchester, New York
A few minutes after midnight…

She’s been tossing and turning all night. Hours have passed since the falling of the sun, but yet still Ororo cannot sleep. The sad, lonely visage of a man sitting alone watching the sunset resurfaces over and over again in her mind that she cannot think of anything else.

She wants to say that it’s not her place. That it is better that he was left to deal with it in private. But Ororo cannot believe those lies she’s been telling herself for hours or the voice that constantly states that he’s none of her concern. She still remembers the young girl that was willing to do what she would not; all because the girl’s heart and affection outweighed all of her own trepidation.

She wished it was her; should have been her, she realized. But she failed to act because of her own fear and misgivings, so now she’s staring at the four walls of her room.

Her sapphire blue eyes opened, gazing to the image of the full moon that was illuminating the spacious walls of her loft. “Goddess, help me…” she pleaded to the open air. Hoping her goddess would somehow fill her with strength and the wisdom to know what she should do.

For Ororo, had always lived her life in the strictest of control. Because of her gift, the tight connection she possessed with the planet and its climates, it made it necessary that she’d always have a tight reign on her emotions. People in the past have often stated she was standoffish, aloof, even going as far as being considered the proverbial Ice Queen. But to people that really knew her deeply; they realized she always maintained her reserve, not because she was socially distancing herself from other people, but out of fear of harming them. It was a responsibility that she took very seriously, because there was so much she loved dwelling in this mansion.

But this Wolverine, this man that seemed as wild and untamed as the Rocky Mountains that he hails from. Ever since that day they first saw each other in the Professor’s office, she had been questioning her self. The brief spark of attraction that brewed between them seemed to ignite an avalanche of sensations inside of her. From heated fantasies to deeply rooted swellings of emotions, he has consumed her thoughts.

And now in his hour of dire need, she is conflicted on what to do. The others believe he’ll come out of it on his own, but something in her heart tells her it is more than that. The feeling seems to further instill her need to act.

The satin sheets start to feel stifling to her nude body. She kicks her long slender legs over the side of her bed as she starts to stand. Her smooth caramel skin is briefly illuminated by moonlight as she darts to her closet to find a nightgown to wear. She had decided. She wants to know what is it about this man that makes her so unsure about herself. And after that, who knows…

OoOoOo

“Did he leave?” Ororo asks herself as her bare feet touch the cool blades of grass. She was outside in the midnight air the very spot she recalled seeing Logan hours ago. But there was no trace of the troubled man. Not even a faint trace of heat that could tell her how long he’d been gone.

Ororo scanned the darken plains of the open field. Every so often a passing beam of moonlight illuminated the school grounds in an assortment of dancing shadows but then it would recede back into darkness as a cloud would pass. After a few minutes of unfounded searching she briefly considered going back inside to wake some of the others, when she saw in the distance a brief moving shadow that ease itself through a graceful pattern.

Intrigued, Ororo decided to move closer to get a better view.

OoOoOo

She finds him a darken silhouette that is occasionally bathed in the silvery light of the moon. His motions are slow and fluid. Ororo watches as his hand glide across the air in a parting motion. It then circles in front of him like a wave in the ocean being parted. His hand then threads forward as his body shifts its balance into the holding meditative stance, before breaking into the next set of motions.

He was bare to the waist; his shirt and jacket were cast carelessly to the side in a heap next to his black boots. The faint trace of perspiration that glistened over his chest foretold that he had been practicing through the different forms for sometime now. She was entranced by the sheer beauty of his movements, so much that she forgotten the original purpose for coming to seek him. Ororo just continued to enjoy the gentle sway of his strong body’s motions and its inner grace. How he could easily sink his whole body down to one point and then rise perfectly balanced into the next position.

“Ain’t polite to stare, darlin’,” he commented to her dryly, breaking his hold on her. A clever retort was waiting on her lips, but any snappy return she was about to deliver was instantly silenced by his next words, “Didn’tja know us animals, got ‘xcellent hearin’ too.”

Ororo stared at him like she was just slapped in the face. Her words from the first day he arrived were so ruefully shoved back into her face that it would have done less damage if he struck her. She then paused as she watched him for a moment. His stride in performing each of the Tai Chi motions never breaking for a moment, then everything seemed to clear. She realized what he was trying to do. He wanted to hurt her so she would leave him, alone to his own misery and grief. So he was free to continue to punish himself for something that was beyond his control.

Another time, she probably would have fallen for the trap, but not tonight.

Ororo took a long deep breath and calmly replied, “I apologize for my words from before…”

At this, his actions immediately stopped. His shoulders visibly fallen as he sighed deeply already regretting his treatment to her. “What fer?” he asked, his attention turned to her for the first time. His gray eyes sharpen finally getting a good look at her. Ororo was wearing, a sheer white nightgown with black embroidery along the thin straps with a slit down the side of the thin material, permitting a liberal amount of caramel thigh. He could see the contours of her body, the seductive curves of her shape as the fabric seemed to glide around her tall voluptuous figure. Her white hair was free, held in a gentle breeze, blowing around her like ivory flames.

Watching her, as beautiful as she looked now, almost chased away all the demons that were currently plaguing him.

Almost…

“The way I see it,” he said continuing, “These kids are like yer own,” he said truthfully, “Ya’d go knockin’ on the devil’s doorstep for all o’ ‘em. Ya’d do whatever ya had to, to protect them, ‘specially, from unsavory types, like myself.” He ended in a grin; the moonlight reflected off of his enlarged incisors making them seem to flash in the midnight air, giving him a truly menacing look, “’sides you were right,” he added grimly as his face sobered, “I am an animal.”

The dour conviction in his voice was nearly heart breaking. “No, no you are not,” the Windrider resolutely stated, while stepping forward, bridging the gap between them, “I greatly misjudged you the moment you first joined us and for that I am truly sorry,” she confessed while bowing her head, “The Professor always teaches us to never judge anyone by appearance alone and I fear I did just that,” she ended while bowing her head a second time, hoping that he would accept her apology.

The Wolverine didn’t comment he just openly stared at her. Her determined blue eyes continued stare back at him awaiting his verdict. He continued his scrutiny almost as if he was mentally stripping her apart to try to determine her true motive, but after another minute he just shrugged. “How 'bout this, let’s grab a cup o' Joe an’ try this thing over,” he suggested while heading back to the mansion. Ororo looked after him for a moment longer before falling in step with him.

OoOoOo

When they got inside she immediately went to turn on the main kitchen lights, but his large hand fell on top of hers stopping her, seemingly to prefer the dim lighting of the kitchen’s stationary lamp instead. The brief contact ignited a buzzing hum within her stomach that was nearly unbearable, but she didn’t want to get distracted. This wasn’t about her.

She paused as she watched him as he took a seat across from her while she was preparing two cups of coffee, graceful motions still within his stride holding her briefly in awe.

The silence that dwelled between them was rich with tension and it only seemed to thicken with every second. There was a fleeing thought within her to race out of this room to forget this man and everything about him. But before she could put more thought to the notion, she placed a simmer mug in front of him. “You want to talk about it?” she asked, while taking the seat across from him, her sapphire blue eyes falling on him entirely.

Troubled gray eyes poured into the pools of the black liquid that sat in front of him which remained untouched. For a moment she considered he was ignoring her then all of a sudden, his steel gray eyes locked onto her. “Darlin’, I honestly wouldn’t know where to begin,” he admitted while returning to his feet. He slowly started to pace around the little area of the kitchen, one of his thick fingers combing through his dark untamed cropping of hair. Ororo continued to simply watch him as his mind mused over so many different things at once. For a long time again nothing was said between the two of them. He then suddenly stated, “He killed her...”

Ororo’s eyes lowered as recalled with great mourning, the innocent girl whose life that was viciously taken this day. “I know,” she returned softly.

“No,” he shook his head firmly, while turning back to her. “Fox,” he supplied, “Silver Fox. Someone…” he fought for a moment to find the exact right words. How can you piece together a person you shared your life with in almost a completely different lifetime in a simple sentence? “Someone real close a long time ago,” he finally answered.

He continued pacing while he was talking. She noticed with each of his words, his hands at his sides continuously clenched and unclenched tightly into fists. “He destroyed everythin’ that made her a woman,” he continued on, seeming to relive the memory each moment as he was reciting it to her. “Then he killed her an’ left her there for me tah find.” He shook his head at the horrible sight and the fact he relived it today, “I can’t remember the first day I met her, what her birthday was or whether she was even happy wit me, but I can remember that day clear as if it was happenin’ now,” he uttered with such a deep welling of hurt.

“That kid,” she realized he was now talking about the Stark employee. “She didn’t deserve that…” he shook his head; talking more to himself than her, “The sadistic fuck!!!” he shouted, his balled up fists dropping to his side. *SNIKT! * Just as fast as the blades came out, he re-sheathed them again. “I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna kill him for Fox! For that girl! For e’eryone he dared to touch!” he shouted again, declaring to Ororo, to himself, to the whole world!

“I’m gonna kill him an’ there ain’t nothin’, Chuck an’ his fancy talk about peace an’ harmony that’s gonna stop me, because it don’t apply!” He ended, a slight tremor rippling through his body as he threw his hands over his face. For several moments there were only the echoing sounds of his deep labored breathing in the room as he continued to try to hold on. “I’m tired…” he softly whispered, “I don’t know how to fight this,” he confessed, his eyes falling to her. “I’m used to people hurtin’ me an’ fightin’ em back. I can do that. I’m the best,” he proudly states, “But I don’t know how to fight this ’Ro,” he gritted his teeth while shaking his head, “That girl… How do I fight when people can get hurt that never even met me?” he said pleading, “How can I protect e’eryone when I’m barely holdin’ on now!”

At the mentioning of her name, she was instantly by his side. She gently pried his hands away from his face so he could look at her, “Logan, you don't have to all this on your own,” she softly whispered to him. Her face begging him to let go, “You're not alone. I'm...We're all here for you,” she paused realizing what she wanted to confess. What she was ready to confess, “I’m here for you…” she said stepping forward, her arms gliding around him pulling him to her.

“I’m here for you…” she whispered again closing her eyes, her lips falling against his in a gentle kiss, “I’m here for you…”

This is Ororo’s Logan…

She sees the man, not the beast, the pain behind the bravado. She sees the man…

“Oh Gawd…” cries out from his lips as all of the events from today hit him in rapid succession, flashes of the Beast and the Danger Room, the rescue, and that poor girl, cycle around in his mind driving him further and further to the edge. The strength he’s relied on his entire life finally leaves him. He’s falling but she’s there to catch him. She’ll always be there for now on. She presses him close to her breast, never letting go.

He tries to fight. To push her away, but she doesn’t let him, because in this moment she’s no longer afraid. So the more he protests, the stronger she holds him. Never letting go. She presses her lips to his forehead; she whispers her vow never to leave him, never to abandon him. He can’t stand it. Something so pure, something so beautiful was never meant for a thing like him.

For forty years since the night of the Beast, he’s lived in eternal darkness. For the first time since he can remember someone truly tried to touch him with the light. He’s trapped, vulnerable. And he’s left to face himself in those clear blue eyes. The beauty she sees when she looks at him, it’s all too great, it’s all too much.

And then the Wolverine finally breaks…


To be continued…





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