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Maine

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Alison asked from the back of the jeep careening down some random dirt road in the middle of nowhere, chasing a group of very pissed of military soldiers, who as Alison was noting, were taking great relish in shooting at them. Several bullets ricocheting off the front windshield, others kicking up even more dirt alongside the racing vehicle.
“Don’ worry, chere. Stormy know what she doing.” Gambit turned to the woman in question and in a lowered voice said. “Don’t you?”
Storm laughed. “Hardly. Hold on!” With a quick jerk of the steering wheel Storm narrowly evaded a large animal that plowed from the underbrush, apparently startled by all the commotion. “What the hell was that?” She asked, looking in her rearview mirror, watching the deer on steroids lope away.
“I t’ink it was a moose,” Gambit muttered.
“Heads up!” Alison cried, pointing ahead of them. Roadblock.
Storm smiled, gunning the engine.
Alison threw herself into the back seat searching for a seatbelt. “Damn.”
“Stormy…?”
“Gambit, you think they play cards?” Her eyes narrowed, her focus on the barricade in front of them.
“Dey gonna, chere.” He was already pulling a deck from his front pocket.
“What, we gonna engage them in a rousing game of go fish?” Alison asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Non.” Gambit’s eyes glowed. “Was t’inkin’ more about a quick game of war.”
“Gambit! Clear me a path!” With that Storm rotated the steering wheel sharply, spinning the vehicle so that Gambit’s side faced the road block as he released a barrage of glowing pink cards from agile fingers, explosions so forceful they rocked the jeep onto its side.
Crawling from the tipped over vehicle Gambit muttered, “Sorry, chere.”
“Not a problem, Gambit.” Storm was already up, racing towards the streaming smoke.
“Merde.” Gambit rose to his feet, pulling Alison up with him. She cried out, clutching her leg. “You are ‘urt,” he accused.
“Never said I wasn’t.” Alison shot back.
“Storm!” He called, but she had already disappeared into the smoke.
“Go.” Alison said. “She’ll need your help.” As the words left Alison’s mouth Storm came racing back through the smoke, shouting for them to “Get back!”
Behind her several Sentinels were marching forward, flanked by smaller whirring silver and black robotic creatures, that looked like wasps.
“Holy fuck.” Alison’s eyes widened.
“D’accord.” Gambit let fly with several charged cards, picking Alison up and running towards the trees to their right.
Storm leapt into the air, buoyed by her winds, soaring high, releasing lightening from her fingertips, charging the air with a dense electromagnetic field, the wasp-robots crashing to the ground.
Alison used their buzzing sounds to fuel her mutant powers, sending forceful blasts of light at the offending machines.
“Behind you!” Gambit’s warning came a fraction of a second too late as a gigantic sentinel hand clamped around Storm.
Storm smiled widely into the optical camera she was sure was recording her, “Howdy, boys, hope you weren’t too attached to your toys. They look awfully expensive and very big. Compensating?” Her eyes swirled white.
“Oh my God,” Alison said as the sky split and Storm channeled a massive strike through her body, effectively taking out the sentinel holding her as well as the three large sentinels bearing down on them.
Storm hit the ground hard, still clutched in the falling machine’s hand. She winced as her face planted into the ground, cracking with enough force for her to hear bells, splitting her lip and bruising her chin.
That stunt had taken a lot out of her, and she lay panting for a moment. She wiggled her body, sliding free of the metallic hand still holding her, the fingers jarred apart on impact. With an angry wipe of her hand she pushed the thick mass of her hair from her eyes.
*Storm.*
*So glad you could join us, Charles.*
*Forgive the delay. I was…occupied. Scott and the Red team have been deployed. Fall back and await retrieval.*
Storm shook her head. *They have Wolverine.*
*I know.*
*I’m not leaving with out him.*
*We will get him back, Storm, but he is no longer even in the area. They transported him by jet three minutes ago.*
Storm pounded her fist into the ground. “Fine.” She stood slowly, not trusting her legs completely. “Okay, guys, we fall back to the Bird.” Storm said to Gambit and Alison.
Alison groaned. “That’s like three miles back.”
“Her leg’s broke,” Gambit added.
Storm nodded, looking back towards the smoke and fallen sentinels, knowing they needed to move, that more would be coming. “Pick her up.” she ordered.
Gambit swung Alison into his arms. Storm wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hold on.”
Gambit chuckled. “I done died an’ gone t’ heaven.” He winked one devil red eye at her.
“Flirt.” Storm chided out of habit, but there was no humor in it.
“Isn’t he though?” Alison said, squeezing Gambit’s rear.
Gambit looked down at Storm, his brow furrowed. “You all right, chere?”
Instead of answering Storm summoned a small current to carry them back to Kitty and Kurt…and the boy she had failed to save…

Black Bird

“You’re all right!” Kitty raced forward as soon as her three other team members came into view, her light brown pony tail bouncing as she ran.
The winds settled and Storm, Gambit and Alison landed, less than graceful, as Storm was becoming drained, on the ground. She quickly rose to her feet. “Get into the jet, all of you. Kitty engage the shields.”
“Where you goin’, Stormy?”
“I need to take care of something.” She shot him a look over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.” She was making her way towards the decimated, still flaming farmhouse and without a doubt Gambit knew where she was going. “Ah, hell, padnat.” He shook his head and sighed.
Ororo’s steps faltered as she approached the fallen form laying alone in the yard. She lowered herself slowly to her knees, her breathing ragged. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered, stroking the portion of the young boys head that remained intact. “Adam.” She lowered her head to his, holding her breath to keep from crying. “I’m sorry. I should have known, should have seen.” She looked at the burning farmhouse. “Was this your home, Adam? Were you happy here?” She asked softly, still stroking his head. “Is that your sister we have? Don’t worry, Adam, I’ll make sure she gets a good life.” She spoke softly for several more minutes then rose, calling forth a number of bolts of lightening, turning the body of the young sixteen year old to ash, the only sending she could give him. “To the earth with you, Adam. Blessed Goddess watch over his spirit.”
Shoulders stiff Ororo headed back to the Black Bird, hands clenched at her side, her mouth set in a grim line. Wraith. That bastard would pay. For Adam, and for Wolverine.
As she got closer to her team she noticed a smaller jet landed next to the Black Bird and Cyclops was speaking with Alison.
“Storm. Status,” he demanded as she got closer.
“Got our asses kicked.” she said, reaching for the Black Bird’s hatch. Cyclops grabbed her arm. She turned giving him a narrow look, eyes going white. “What?”
“What the hell happened here? I do not like the X-Men looking like jokes and costing sixteen year old kids their lives,” he stated, voice hard, still holding her arm. She shook him off.
“When we arrived the house looked abandoned, we entered, an explosion was set, soldiers arrived, five tanks, two helicopters, Wolverine referred to one of the men as Wraith. A shootout ensued, Wolverine was taken, we pursued, but we turned back by four Sentinels and some flying bugs. Now, you’re up to speed.”
“You entered even though the place looked abandoned? That should have been your first clue that this was a trap.” Cyclops said angrily.
Storm looked away, knowing there was more than a grain of truth behind those words. “I know. I am sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t going to bring that kid back from the dead.”
“Hey, easy, homme.”
“Stay out of this, Gambit. As far as I’m concerned your less of an X-Man than she is.” He indicated Storm.
“Hey, back off, toy soldier,” Alison spoke up, glaring from the interior of the jet.
“Look at you. All of you. Beaten, broken,” he glanced at Alison’s splinted leg, then he looked directly at Storm. “Failures.”
*Enough, Cyclops.*
*Professor. I am just stating facts.*
*Now is not the time, Cyclops.*
*Orders, sir?*
*Start flying, Cyclops, I will have a course laid out in moments.*
*On our way.* Cyclops motioned for Jean to start their jet. “Let’s roll, people.”
Storm turned to Alison. “You up to piloting?”
Ali shook her head, her eyes unfocused. “Can’t, the fuzzy elf loaded me.”
Grinding her teeth, Ororo turned to Scott. “I need a pilot.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “What’s the magic word?”
*Cyclops*
Cyclops frowned, then jerked his head at Jean, saying, “They need a pilot.”
“What’s wrong with Dazzler?” Marvel Girl questioned.
“Busted leg. You take the Bird.”
Jean opened her mouth to refuse, but the firm set of Scott’s jaw stopped her. “Men,” she muttered, climbing from their plane and making her way over to Storm.
“Looks like I’m flying you out.” She said.
“Good. Kurt take co-pilot.” Storm said climbing into the jet.
Once they were in the air, Jean couldn’t resist saying, “Looks like the squad of Misfit Mutants really screwed up.”
“Blow it out your--”
“Alison.” Ororo interrupted gently. She gave Jean a hard look. “I am proud of my team, Jean. I would go into battle with them any day.”
Jean said nothing for a moment, and then, “Yes, well now they have one of ours. If anything happens to Wolverine I will personally turn your brain to mush.”
Storm didn’t reply, staring about the window, thinking that if they didn‘t get Wolverine back, Jean wouldn‘t get the chance, she may just die of a broken heart. When had she fallen so hopelessly in love? The guy was as arrogant and smug as they came, full of himself, always sniffing after Jean. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, aside from the locker room incident, she had not seen the two of them even in the same room together. Storm closed her eyes thinking about her late night trip to the refrigerator the other night, and her stomach clenched.
~~~
She had been unable to sleep, a usual problem for her. She had quietly slipped out of Gambit’s arms, padding down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. Once there she had proceeded to hunt in the back of the freezer for her hidden Ben&Jerry’s, Karmal Sutra.
“Looking fer this?”
Ororo had spun, catching the freezer door with the back of her head, wincing. Her heart had immediately tripped over itself at the sight of him. He leaned against the doorjamb, half hidden in shadows. He moved forward, fully revealed, by the light of the moon beaming through the windows, and Ororo thought maybe she’d stopped breathing. He was bare-chested, clad in only a faded pair of jeans, his bare feet silent as he moved towards her. She backed up hurriedly, nearly tripping.
“Careful, there, darlin.’” He moved with lightening reflexes, and caught her about the waist, pulling her upright.
“Wolverine. Why do you have my ice cream?” She had asked, for lack of anything better to say, trying not to touch his bare chest, but desperately yearning to do so.
“Don’t have yer name on it.” he said huskily, his breath fanning her cheek.
“That’s because it was hidden.”
Without taking his eyes off her he flicked the top with his thumb, opening the sweet smelling treat. Then, still watching her, he dipped his index finger into the chocolate portion of the ice-cream, scooping out a small amount. His eyes glittered as he brought his finger to his mouth, licking the dairy from his calloused pad.
Unable to help herself Ororo had watched transfixed, licking her own lips as he licked the ice-cream. “Wanna taste?” he had asked.
Ororo nodded, unable to speak, reaching for the container, but Wolverine lowered his head, his cool mouth catching hers, his tongue sliding easily past her startled lips. She had gasped in surprise, aware that he tasted of the sweet ice-cream mixed with the faint taste of alcohol.
Her hands fluttered for a moment before settling on his muscular shoulders, delighting in the way the muscles rippled under her fingers. Without realizing it, she had begun making deep mewling sounds of longing in the back of her throat and he pressed her against the counter, his hands sliding under her long T-shirt, teasing the skin on her ribs, all the while his lips and tongue nudging and teasing hers. He lifted her, seating her on the countertop, spreading her legs wide and stepping between them. Ororo had instinctively tried to close herself, but he had moved forward too quickly, so instead all she had ended up doing was pulling him closer, tighter against her.
“God, ‘Ro. Ya feel so good.” He was kneading her breasts with his warm hands, his thumbs flicking over her nipples, causing her to whimper into his mouth. It wasn’t until she felt his hand pressing against her damp center through her white cotton panties did she panic. She immediately lashed out, planting her foot in the center of his chest, shoving him across the room.
“Stop.” She hopped off the counter. “I don’t like to be touched.”
Wolverine growled at her. “Could’ve fooled me, darlin’.”
“I don’t.”
Wolverine’s breathing was ragged and his lip curled, baring his teeth slightly. “So, what yer just a cock-tease?”
Crack! Ororo’s hand whipped out, slapping him with enough force to turn his head. He turned back to her with a growl. “Stick to redheads, Wolverine. You have no class anywhere else.” With that she left the room, leaving the ice-cream and a growling Wolverine behind her. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard him.
“I’m sorry.”
Ororo had looked over her shoulder to say something scathing, but the wounded look in his eyes silenced her. “Accepted. Good night, Wolverine.”
“Logan.” he had said softly after she had departed.

~~~

Wolverine snapped his head up, coming awake with a start, images of Storm in his head, in time to meet the ass end of a rifle to his face. He growled, spitting blood. “Fuckers,” he snarled.
A hand gripped his hair, jerking his head back. “Awww, c’mon, Wolverine. Aren’t you having fun?” Another blunt hit to his mouth.
Wolverine shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He was in a plane of some sort, his arms strapped behind him at odd, painful angles, some sort of metal cuffs preventing him from extending his claws. Must be made of adamantium, he thought, unable to even pierce them.
“Wraith said to make sure you were good and submissive when we get to base. How long you think that’ll take with your ability to heal and shit?”
Wolverine snarled, earning him a boot to the stomach. “That the best ya got, pussy?”
Several rounds of ammunition were emptied into his chest and Wolverine lost consciousness again.
“Wake up!” Storm was calling him. He could see her beautiful mouth moving, her breath brushing his ear. “Wolverine, open your eyes you stupid fuck.” Definitely not Storm.
Wolverine blinked against the harsh white light directed into his face. “Morning, sunshine.” A large man with dark red hair, wearing a blue plastic apron over gray coveralls stood in front of him. “My name’s Smith, and I’ll be torturing you momentarily.”
Wolverine looked around, realizing he was no longer in the plane, but in a very sterile room white room, with bars on the windows, naked and strapped to a slanted table. The man called Smith was moving towards him with a syringe.
“This will help speed things along.” He slipped the needle into Wolverine’s arm, pressing the plunger, injecting some type of clear liquid that burnt as it was absorbed. “There, isn’t that lovely.”
Wolverine growled. “Why is it all you fuckin’ nuts that torture act like yer at some goddamn tea party.”
“Well, Mr. Wolverine, that’s because this is pleasant for me.” Smith picked up a long device that looked like a corkscrew and smiled at Wolverine through his deep red beard. “Sadly, I can assure you, that this will be most unpleasant for you.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Wolverine grunted. “That looks like one of my ex’s bedroom toys.”
“Hm. Interesting.” Smith pulled on a pair of large, yellow latex gloves. “I’m afraid this won’t be nearly that enjoyable.” Another smile. “For you.”
The tip of the corkscrew device plunged into Wolverine’s stomach, and he ground his teeth. “Yer gonna have ta do better than that, Bub.”
“Oh, we’re only just beginning.” Smith assured him, twisting.
Wolverine roared.
After several minutes and three other devices Smith stood, setting a timer. “Mmmm, that’s better.” Smith said, ruffling Wolverine’s sweat dampened hair like he was a boy. “The serum should take effect in a moment, but with your mutant ability, I doubt we’ll have long for this interview.” Smith lifted a straight razor, running it along Wolverine’s chest, creating a big, bloody X. “Who are the X-Men?”
“Fuck you.” Wolverine panted, leaning forward, sweat dripping from his nose, dripping onto the blood red floor.
“Hm. Not the answer I was looking for.” A heated soldering iron was placed against Wolverine’s eye.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Wolverine jerked his head back and forth trying to escape the pain.
“Is there a limit to what your body can handle, Mr. Wolverine?” Smith ran the straight razor along the back of Wolverine’s ear. “If I cut this off, do you grow one back?” He lowered the razor, tapping it against Wolverine’s exposed groin. “How about this?”
Wolverine’s blood turned to ice, but he still said nothing.
“A tough one. What a treat.” Smith backed up, pulling a small laptop over to the rack. He clicked a few buttons and then set the screen so that Wolverine could see it. On screen an image of Kurt appeared, bamfing from the farmhouse. Smith paused the video. “Who’s that?”
“My mother,” Wolverine snarled. “She has issues.”
Smith frowned. “Come now, Wolverine, we both know you don’t remember your mother.” He ran the razor along Wolverines chest again, deeper, carving the X into muscle. “Who are the X-Men.”
Wolverine panted against the pain, his head foggy from whatever they injected him with. “Fuck. You.”
Smith smashed a beefy fist against Wolverine’s face. Then again. Then he picked up a bat and swung, cracking the wood against Wolverine’s skull.
“Manners, Wolverine.”
Wolverine’s head lolled and Smith slapped him twice. “Stay awake, Wolverine.”
Moving back to his table o’torture Smith pulled out a long serrated blade. “You have very strong legs, Wolverine. But everyone has an Achilles heel.”
Wolverine hollered as he felt the blade slice the back of his foot. “Mother fucker.” Blood ran from his lips where his fangs were gnashing. “I’m gonna gut ya, ya fat fuck.”
“Doubtful.” Smith studied him closely, then as if struck by an idea moved back to the table, picking up to cables with clamps. “Tell me, Wolverine, are you a good conductor?”
No response except a watchful glare. Smith smiled. Good, they needed him feral.
With a quick slit here and a cut there, Smith actually clamped the clips underneath Wolverine’s skin. “Okay, here we go.” He pressed a button and wolverine arched off the table, “YEEARRGG!”
“Music to my ears.” Smith doubled the voltage. “All right, now that I have your attention.” Smith pressed a key on the laptop. “How about her?”
Wolverine glanced at the screen and his heart stopped. It was Storm, held by a sentinel. Had they caught her? Then the video played and his heart not only beat again, but he felt a flare of pride when she smiled, “Compensating?”
Smith paused the screen capturing the image of Storm conducting lightening from a relatively clear sky. “Who is she?”
Wolverine looked away, growling.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Smith continued. “I can only imagine the plans Wraith has for her.”
Wolverine snarled, spittle and blood spraying, jerking against his restraints.
“Ahh.” Smith smiled, his index finger caressing the image of Storm on the screen. “This is the one.” Smith stood. “You have been most helpful, Wolverine.”
Wolverine frowned. His thoughts clouded with rage and pain. Smith placed another syringe in his arm, and Wolverine’s head went fuzzy.
“Who is she?” Smith asked.
Wolverine fought but her name tumbled from his thick tongue. “Storm.”
“And who is she?”
Nothing.
“C’mon, Wolverine, who is she?”
“My…love…”
“Wolverine, that’s a surprise. I should thank you. So thank you, Wolverine, for showing us how to break you.” Smith glanced at the image of Storm again. “Now we just have to go get her.”
KA-BOOM!! KA-BOOM!!
Smith jerked at the sound of thunder crashed over head. Wolverine’s head snapped up, his teeth bared. “Well, well, well. Looks like she came to us,” Smith said.
He reached across the table pulling a red vial from a silver container. Wolverine growled, he knew what that was. Rage in a jar, they’d called it. A chemical that instantly shut down the human side of his brain, leaving the animal in complete control. Smith placed his hand on Wolverine’s thrashing head and injected the substance directly into his temple. Backing away quickly, Smith smiled, releasing the locks via remote, that held Wolverine strapped down.
“Have fun, Wolverine.”
Wolverine leapt, slashing at the door as it slammed shut behind the retreating Smith. No. No. No. He could feel his mind shutting down the animal taking over. He sniffed the room, but all he could smell was his own blood. He glanced at his wounds, already mostly healed and he growled. Hunt. Hurt. Kill.
He could hear shouts outside the building and gunfire.
Hunt. Hurt. Kill!
The sound of jets buzzing the building made his head ache. He clapped his hands over his ears.
Hunt! Hurt! KILL!


Outside

“I believe you have something that belongs to us,” Scott said to one of the cowering soldiers.
“Stocky fellow, big mouth,” Gambit added.
The soldier shook his head. “N-no, please, I gotta wife and kid.”
“Then it’s a real shame you’re never going to see them again,” Storm said, crouching down beside him, eyes glowing. “Wolverine. Where is he?”
“Miss?” A large red haired man poked his head around the corner of a building. “Psst.”
Storm looked up.
“You looking for the prisoner?”
“Yes.” Scott said. “You know where he is?”
“I think so. I’m not sure, I’m just the cook.”
Well, that explained the bloody apron. Scott motioned for Jean and Gambit to flank. “Lead the way.”
The portly cook indicated the building they were already beside. “I think he’s in there.”
“Stand clear.” Scott punched a hole in the wall with an optic blast. Immediately a naked and pissed off Wolverine leapt from the wreckage, fangs and claws bared.
“Holy shit!” Scott cried as Wolverine lashed out at them. “He’s gone feral!”





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