In the briefing room, Storm laid out every bit of information they had on Stryker’s facility, above ground and below, while the remaining X-Men team listened. Included in the strategizing, Mike and the twins gawked around them, amazed at what lay below the school-level of the Xavier mansion. The tabletop before them shifted and changed it’s topographical texture as Storm discussed the mission.
“The laboratory where the adamantium should be is here,” one elegant finger pointed to the table, “and the pathway leading there has been marked. It’s the shortest route for the swimmers.” The twins studied the route carefully, chattering to each other in a mix of Greek and Cherokee, switching when one language didn’t have enough of the proper words.
Storm continued, “Piotr is installing a long cable and powered winch on the jet as we speak. We’ll use it to pull the metal out if it’s too heavy for the swimmers to transport. Mike, you’ll maintain radio contact with everyone from the jet, and help Piotr monitor all the electrical and hydraulic systems. Kitty and Jubilee have assembled all the reports and maps, but Kitty is still on medical leave until her ankle heals, so she will be maintaining radio contact with us from here, in case we need more from the main computers. Jubilee will be standing by with scuba gear in case of any unforeseen problems, and taking up the slack for anyone who needs help. I’ll fly us there, and stay in visual contact with the swimmers, using scuba gear for as long as the air tank allows me, helping them stay oriented since none of us have been in the lab area except Logan. I’ll also have the winch’s cable attached to my belt if we have to be pulled back to the surface. Any questions?”
Several pairs of eyes swept the room, noting each other’s eager expressions, but no one said a word.
“Okay, be in the Blackbird and strapped in your seats in twenty minutes. We’ll be in the air in twenty-three.” They all fled the room to finish preparation.
Rogue headed directly for Logan’s side, where he’d been settled in a different room than before, only now there was more medical equipment beeping and humming, more tubes snaking across the sheets, and he was pale and unconscious. Moments later, Hank entered the room.
“I know I’m likely wasting my breath,” he gave her an affectionate smile, “but I’d warn against staying too close if he seems to be nearing consciousness. Before Logan was brought in here, Storm told me she thought he was hallucinating, and that caused him to injure himself to such an extent.” Hank laid his charts down on the bedside table and pinned Rogue with his gaze, “I know that Logan would never knowingly harm you, but if he regains consciousness and seems agitated or incoherent, I want you to get away from him instantly, for your own safety. Do you understand how important this is?”
“Yeah, I understand. I’ll be careful,” Rogue yawned and shook her head to jar herself awake. As soon as Hank left, she slithered onto the bed and curled against Logan’s side as she listened for the rumble of the jet’s departure. As soon as the sound faded, she was asleep within moments.
*
“Left at the next corridor, chicks of the sea!” Mike chattered brightly into the intercom.
Niji’s voice crackled over the headset, “If you ever call me that again, I’ll pee in your shoes.” Ciji laughed so hard she hiccuped, sending streams of bubbles floating away into the darkness. They’d drifted sinuously through the underwater corridors of the Alkali Lake complex, following Mike’s directions, their black hair floating around them like strands of seaweed. Only in the last few yards had they nearly lost Storm by visual contact. By the thin beam of the headlamps strapped to their foreheads, they spotted the staircase descending into the lab itself. “We’re here. Which direction?”
“Descend to the main floor and go straight to the center. There should be a platform and a box on it, like a big glass-sided coffin, right in the middle of the room, probably twenty feet from the stairs. Storm, you’ve got about eighteen minutes of air left - you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mike. Colossus, how much cable is left?” Storm fought down nerves that frayed at the idea of being underground, underwater, and leading a team of teens into what could quickly become hell on earth. Death seemed all around her: Jean, Stryker, Deathstryke, and nearly Logan on two occasions. The place seemed to resonate with evil, cruelty...
“Approximately thirty yards left. How close are you?”
“It’s going to be close,” Storm replied. “How’s it going down there, mermaids?”
“It’s darker than pitch, but I found the platform, and the box, and... holy shit! What’s that?” Ciji’s voice crackled over the system. Storm felt herself break a cold sweat inside the rubber wetsuit.
“Report immediately - girls, what’s wrong?” She quickly laid the cable down and started swimming toward them.
“Nothing’s wrong - she’s just freaking out... again,” Niji’s exasperated voice calmed Storm’s near-panic. “We’ve found the crucible, but it’s huge and bolted down and hopelessly heavy, and there’s absolutely nothing to hook the cable to; but Ceej found what looks like a metal skeleton with blobs of metal chunked around inside of it, and a thing that looks like a gun sticking out of it. It’s inside the big box. Would it be safe to assume THAT is adamantium?”
Ciji cut in, “You know what happens when you assume, guppy; you make an ass out of you and...”
“Stuff it, finface.” “You’re ass enough for both of us, neckbreather.” “Make me.” “Bite me.”
“GIRLS! Get focused,” Storm would have cradled her head in her hands if not for the scuba gear keeping her alive in the stygian depths.
“Sorry!” “Sorry!”
“Is the metal skeleton inside the box with the glass walls, and with a metal mesh grating on top?”
“Yes, ma’am,” both voices said in unison.
Storm continued, “And are there long, claw-like needle appendages where the fingertips are?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they responded again.
Storm did close her eyes momentarily and whispered to herself, “Oh Goddess, they’ve found Deathstryke.” In her ear, Mike’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Storm, what’s your status? You doin’ alright down there? I couldn’t hear everything you said just then.”
“I’m fine, Mike. Girls, can you lift the grating off the box?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s already done. We’re.... ooof, whoever he is, he’s heavy,” Ciji grunted.
“‘She’ is heavy, see the pelvic bone?” Niji corrected her sister, “It’s a female skeleton.”
“I wish you’d quit watching the History Channel all the time. All that archaeology is rotting your brain.”
“Well, excuse me for wanting to be educated, you soap opera bimbo. OW!”
“WHAT??!?” Storm shouted in fear.
“She pinched me!” “You pinched yourself in the bones.” “DID NOT!” “DID, TOO!”
“STOP IT!” Storm yelled and winced as she heard Mike’s gasp of pain from her own headset.
“Everybody stop yelling right now! Shit, that hurt.”
“Sorry, Mike. Girls, what are you doing, exactly?”
“We’ve got Miss Bones half hung over the edge of the box, but she’s heavy and we’re kinda stuck. Can you drag the cable down into here?”
“I’m coming,” Storm drew a deep breath, steeled her nerves, and descended the stairs, towing the retrieved cable behind her.
*
Rogue stirred awake when a medical technician entered the room.
“Sorry to wake you, but it’s bandage-changing time.”
“S’okay, I’ll back off,” she mumbled and slipped off the bed. She watched Logan’s sleeping face as the tech deftly removed the old bandages, and was startled at the amount of fresh stitches in his hands and arms. Within a few minutes the new bandages were in place, but the tech pulled down the sheets and removed a large white bandage from Logan’s pelvis.
“What happened down... there?” Rogue muttered awkwardly. “Is he cut there?”
“No, it’s a tattoo that’s fresh. Doctor McCoy told me to check it and change this bandage, too.” The tech swabbed the area and applied a fresh coat of ointment, then asked, “You didn’t know about this?”
Leaning closer, Rogue gasped at the black rose tattoo, seeing her name scripted within the blood-red ribbon curling around the stem, and the claw-like thorns seeming to pierce his skin. “Oh mah gawd...” she breathed, unaware of the distinct southern drawl she’d put into the words.
“Looks like you made quite an impression on someone,” the tech commented quietly, smiled, and replaced the bandage. “You need anything?”
“Nah, just a little more sleep, thanks.” The tech left.
Climbing on the bed and sidling against Logan again, she stroked his hair and shoulders, and nuzzled herself against his cheek, whispering, “Why didn’t you tell me about that? I can’t believe you marked yourself with my name,” she sniffled a little from the wash of emotion. “You really do love me, don’t you?” She giggled softly and kissed his jaw, lips, and the base of his throat.
At her intimate contact, a soft breath escaped Logan’s lips and he turned his head slightly toward her, then settled quietly again.
“I love you, too.” Rogue snuggled against his side again and fell asleep with her head resting against his shoulder.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The mission ‘that shouldn’t happen,’ happens; Mike and the twins prove themselves after a fashion, and Rogue sees something she didn’t know about.