Storm and Scott sprinted furiously through the dark tunnels of Alkali Lake, following Jean’s telepathic guidance as they turned and ran down various grime-walled corridors. Bodies of fallen soldiers lay erratically slumped, deaths bloody and gruesome. It was such a clear trail towards Logan that Jean’s aid wasn’t entirely needed. They had only just turned a corner to see, with horror, that Logan stood with Stryker pinned to the wall. Their side-profile silhouettes were backlit against a large rotating fan, the morning sunlight flickering through as the metal blades cut through the dusty air. Logan’s arms wrenched backward, shadowed claws being extruded from the man’s chest. Stryker slumped without the support, and plummeted silently into a crumpled heap at Logan’s feet.
“Logan!” called Scott warily, as he and Storm stood cornering him into the dead-end.
At his name, Logan slowly turned his head towards Scott in apparent interest. Darkened eyes glinted slowly in the dim light of the dam. There was a sudden sound of his claws retracting into his forearms, the abrupt noise through the tense air causing Storm to let out a faint, “Oh!”
He turned his body to face the two X-Men, profile remaining darkened by the large rotary fan behind him. The low thrum of the revolving blades matched in tune with the quickening tempo of anxious heartbeats. “Logan,” Scott tried again, extending a hand warily towards him as though to simmer any urges to charge towards them. It was like trying to uncertainly calm an angry dog, only the effects here would be far worse.
Logan’s head was barely raised, and he stared at them lowly through dark eyes. He took a step forward, Scott and Storm instinctively taking an apprehensive step backwards. “Logan,” said Storm softly, trying to reach out to him. “We don’t want to hurt you. It’s not like last time, you can come back yourself.”
He tilted his head slowly, taking a slow sniff of the air as he continued to survey the X-Men in a contemplative silence. It was like an animal trying to decide what portion of meat to eat first. Needless to say, it made the X-Men very uneasy. Torso was thickly bloodstained, his hair dishevelled over blackened eyes and his dirty shirt was torn and scratched to reveal the rippling muscular chest below – altogether it was not a reassuring sight. Logan raised his head fully and Scott felt Storm bristle besides him.
His lips, dry and caked in blood, parted to speak. “Marie,” he said hoarsely.
“W-what?” asked Storm uncertainly, staring at him as she tried to find meaning in his words.
“Marie,” he said again, tone turning stronger and more demanding.
Scott and Storm shared an uneasy glance before looking back towards Logan. “I don’t know who Marie is..” whispered Storm, fearful this information might anger him.
She was right. Logan let out a fierce bellow, his fists clenched. Storm abandoned all pretence and scooted back several steps. Scott remained stood ahead, leaving one hand stretched out as another rose to his visor warily, just in case. “Logan, do you mean Rogue?” he asked quickly, putting two and two together.
Her name calmed him and Logan’s narrowed eyes locked upon Scott.
“We can take you back to her,” said Storm softly, quickly joining in as it seemed to be soothing Logan’s wrath. “We can take you back to Ro – Marie.”
“Marie,” he repeated, tone softer than his earlier growls of speech. It was sounding more like the real Logan again. “Marie..” he said once more, this time a noticeable tremble in his words and Storm and Scott were shocked to see his angry expression turning fearful. “What have I done to her?”
As much as the X-Men wanted to step forward and reassure him about Rogue’s safety, they knew they couldn’t. Rogue had been in a dire state when they had left her under Jean’s medicinal care, and if her body’s severe injuries weren’t enough to be concerned about, her mental state of mind was. “You haven’t done anything to her,” Storm tried, staring at Logan, as he seemed to crumple on the spot. He sank down onto his knees, bringing blood-caked hands over his face. “It’s not your fault, Logan.”
“YOU’RE WRONG!” he raged suddenly, his fierce exclamation causing his adamantium claws to swiftly eject from his knuckles. Erratic breathing shook his form as he held his head in his hands, body trembling. “You’re wrong..” he repeated quieter, tone of voice different from his roared outburst. Speech had been softer once more, as if Wolverine and Logan had said the two sentences respectively.
“We need to get him back to the jet,” muttered Scott in undertone to Storm, watching warily as Logan huddled on his knees, clasping his head tightly. Dry sobs were punctuated by fierce snarls of breath, the large man holding onto himself tighter each time the shift occurred. His hands lay splayed across his scalp, bloodied claws arching off his head. His fingers gradually curled into fists and the claws retreated slowly, as though struggling.
Storm nodded her head in agreement, proceeding to take several steps forward before Logan gave out a low, threatening growl at her approach. She abruptly tensed up, stopping her path as she stared at him warily. “Logan..” she whispered quietly. “It’s alright..”
“No. It’s not,” he growled loudly.
“Don’t listen to Wolverine,” she said, sharply this time. “He’s not who you are!”
“Y-you.. you know nothing of who I am,” he uttered lowly, slowly lifting his face out of his hands and glaring fierce eyes towards Storm. “Nothing.” He let out a low moan, his head bowing again. It was clear he was struggling to regain control over Wolverine. “Stay away from me,” he whispered quietly, rough tone of voice simmered. “Just leave me here.”
Scott glanced towards Storm before back at Logan. He took a step forward, “We’re not going to – “
“I SAID STAY AWAY FROM ME!” he bellowed, springing to his feet in a blur of speed. Storm quickly leapt backwards, palms outstretched in a bid to defend herself if necessary. His fists raised either side of him, the swift ‘snikt’ of claws sounding as they were once more presented.
“Logan!”
He reared forward speedily, easily closing the distance between him and the nearest X-Man. Try as Storm did to evade his motions; she was successfully grabbed and tugged sharply towards him. With a fierce growl he threw her against the wall besides him, of which still held the marks of Stryker’s fate. She let out a strangled gasp as her back hit the cold stone, one of Logan’s thick hands grasping her tightly about the throat. Three smooth cuts trickled from her chest where he had nicked her in the grab. The sight and scent of it was enough to lose him completely once more. All traces of Logan vanished as he bared his teeth fiercely, pulling back one of his arms to ready the awaiting claws.
The attack had been enough to force the X-Men to retaliate and amidst Storm’s terrified scream, a blast of red laser shot forth from Scott with no mercy to spare. In this situation, he had to value Storm’s life above Logan’s, and he was taking no chances. The augmented beam was more powerful, the red light sending Logan’s body (of which it didn’t destroy) hurtling towards the fan. His screams were cut short as he crashed into the large mechanical fan, throat rendering useless as the blades cut into many portions of his body. Collapsing off the machinery, he hit the floor. Unconscious, bloodied.
“Are you ok?” Scott was staring at Logan’s fallen body. Despite the attack, there were already signs of his injuries healing.
Breathless, Storm straightened off the wall, a hand resting against her throat. “I’m fine.. But Scott, we need to get back to the Professor immediately.”
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