“You’re sure the first dorm is ready, Logan?”
Grunting in irritation at being asked the question for the third time, Logan replied, “Ready as it can be. Relax, darlin’. They’ve got furniture and runnin’ water and the furnace is workin’ again. It’ll be fine.”
“Ah don’t like goin’ into this blind, though. We don’t know how many kids, whether they’ll be bringin’ anythin’ with them, whether anybody’s hurt. The professor still isn’t answerin’ the phone?”
“Marie,” Logan soothed, tucking a blanket into place on the last of the beds in the dorm, “I’m not gonna keep callin’ him when he’s obviously busy.”
“But we need to know these kinds of things,” Rogue insisted, wiping out the drawers of a dresser ingeniously built into the wall.
“What difference does it make? We have medical supplies, food, clothes. Whether it’s one kid or two dozen, they’re gonna have a place here.”
Rogue shook her head. “I’m gonna go check the email again.”
“Fine, you do that,” Logan sighed.
“You’re comin’ with me, mister. It’s lunchtime, so you can put yourself to work makin’ us some sandwiches while Ah’m on the computer.”
With his jaw clenched, Logan growled, “You’re bein’ a bit of a pain in the ass, kid. Runnin’ in all different directions, worryin’ we don’t have this place ready for the kids and then insistin’ that I take time off to make you somethin’ to eat.”
Grinning cheekily, Rogue returned, “What can Ah say, sugar? You made your point; ready or not, the kids are gonna be comin’. Figure we might as well make sure we’re well fed so we can take care of them later.” With that, Rogue led the way out of the building and back to the cabin.
Logan inhaled the chill, clear air greedily, taking note of the crisp pine trees and the slightly sun-warmed scent of the fresh gravel covering the driveway. He paused to admire the sway of Rogue’s hips as she climbed the porch stairs and disappeared into the cabin. Shaking his head to dispel the sudden onslaught of lecherous images that poured into his mind, he took the stairs two at a time and followed Rogue into the kitchen.
She was already busy at the computer when Logan pulled open the refrigerator and rummaged through one of the bins for meat, cheese, and lettuce.
“We’ve got an email from Hank!” Rogue exclaimed, equal parts surprise and worry coloring her voice.
“What’s it say?” he grunted, snagging the mustard from the fridge door before it swung closed.
“Hang on; he’s got a couple files attached.” Rogue tapped a few keys quickly before slouching back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “Huh. Looks like he got the lab results on my skin samples.”
Losing interest in his food preparation, Logan circled around behind Rogue and braced one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the edge of the table. Unknowingly, he tilted his head in concentration as he scanned through the document.
“What the hell’s he sayin’ here?” Rogue asked impatiently, jabbing her finger at a section of the screen.
“Think he’s tryin’ to say that your skin’s default settin’ is ‘on.’”
“You mean like when Ah’m unconscious or something’?”
“That’s what it sounds like. He’s got the characteristics of your mutation broken down into ‘adaptive’ and ‘defensive.’”
“How can you understand any of this?” Rogue demanded. “There’s so much scientific mumbo jumbo it might as well be in a foreign language.”
“Dunno,” Logan grunted. “It just kinda makes sense to me.”
“Enlighten me then, sugar.”
“Gladly.” He smirked at her before continuing. “Okay, see here?” Pointing at a section near the beginning of the report, he waited for Rogue’s nod. “Right here Hank’s sayin’ that the main purpose of your mutation seems to be protectin’ you and buildin’ up an arsenal of abilities. Conceivably, every mutation has some use in a combat situation, whether it’s defensive or offensive, so you’ve been able to copy ‘em all. However, if those abilities should ever fail you and you’re at risk of bein’ harmed physically by another person, your skin is your last line of defense and you’ll be able to drain him. With that, you’ll not only protect yourself physically, but by absorbing his psyche, you’ll have his knowledge of your surroundin’s as well as your own, better enabling you to escape.”
“So my mutation is combat oriented?” Rogue summarized, stunned.
Logan shrugged. “Basically.”
“Ah’m not always gonna be in a combat situation, and there won’t always be new mutations around to copy, so what good is my skin then?”
“That’s what Hank was talkin’ about with your mutation bein’ adaptive and your skin’s default settin’ bein’ ‘on’. Seems like your skin’s constantly absorbin’ and storin’ energy even when it’s not in direct contact with another organism. Hank’s theory is that when you think you’ve got your skin ‘off,’ you’re really just suppressing the energy absorption to the absolute minimum. These numbers here?” Logan pointed to another section of the screen. “These are energy readings on the samples in various environments. When Hank placed one of the samples in a vacuum chamber, the tissue began breakin’ down after a short period. The other samples, even if they were just left sittin’ out in open containers on the counter, lasted much longer. The ones in contact with other organisms didn’t break down even after all the organisms were completely drained.”
“Ah really do suck the life out o’ everythin’ Ah touch then, don’t Ah?”
“Seems so, darlin’,” Logan said, eyeing her cautiously.
Bracing herself with a deep breath, Rogue asked, “What else does the report say?”
“Nothin’ conclusive,” Logan hedged. “Just some theories Hank has based on what he knows about your mutation now.”
“Tell me,” she insisted.
Logan examined Rogue’s face carefully, noting the set of her lips and her unflinching gaze fixed on him “Well, long term, Hank believes that your constant absorption of energy will translate into increased longevity and that skin to skin absorptions, if they occurred often enough and close enough together, may actually halt any signs of aging for a period of time.”
Rogue barked a sarcastic laugh. “So Ah’m a vampire?”
Wincing slightly, Logan ignored the question and continued summarizing Hank’s report. “The last part of Hank’s findin’s discusses the likelihood of offspring given the nature of your mutation.”
Her breath hitching suddenly, Rogue turned quickly and grasped Logan’s forearm. “Kids, Logan? Hank’s talkin’ about whether Ah can have kids?”
“Yeah, darlin’.”
“Well? What’s he say?”
“It’s not conclusive. Bottom line is Hank doesn’t think you’d ever be able to carry a child to term since your skin is always drawin’ energy even when it’s not in direct contact with anyone.” Silent tears slowly spilled down Rogue’s cheeks. “Unless,” Logan held up a cautioning hand, “Unless the genetic similarities of a fetus to you, its mother, would prevent your mutation from drawin’ on its energy.”
“What’re the chances of that, Logan?” Rogue whispered desperately.
“50/50 at best.”
“So the chance that Ah’d kill my baby is as arbitrary as a damn coin toss?” The bitterness in her quiet voice was almost venomous. Not knowing what to say, Logan squeezed her shoulders lightly and tried to distract her.
“What’s in the other file?”
“Oh, right,” Rogue murmured, quickly clicking on the other attachment to open it.
“‘Behaviors and characteristics of feral mutations?’” Logan read in disbelief. He felt Rogue’s shoulders shrug beneath his hands.
“Guess Hank thought it might help us figure out what’s goin’ on with you lately.”
Logan nodded and continued reading. “‘The enhanced senses of ferals function as a means of allowing them to meet their primary objective, namely defending their territory. Territory for the purposes of this study included relationships with mates and offspring as well as physical surroundings. Behaviors in ferals often mimic animal counterparts, resulting in widely varied actions; for example, some ferals never stray more than a few miles from the location in which their mutation first manifested, while others roam many hundreds of miles before selecting a mate and home territory. However, all feral mutations are characterized by increased aggression, the severity of which can range from a constant state of mild irritation to full berserker rages, increased libido, appetite, and a need for regular and rigorous physical activity.
“‘Over time, some ferals begin to acquire animalistic appearances; this phenomenon seems to be in direct correlation to the amount of time they spend in highly aggressive states. However, this change seems to be permanent as there has never been any observation of a feral reverting to a more human appearance due to a decrease in aggression. Ferals are always at their most aggressive when their mates and offspring are endangered. While self-preservation is a high priority in all ferals, they have often been observed willingly sacrificing themselves for the survival of their dependents - mates and offspring. In all cases where a feral’s dependents were endangered, the offspring was always protected before the mate, suggesting that the continuation of the feral’s genes in existing offspring supercedes the need to create more offspring by protecting the life of his mate.’”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit!” Rogue interrupted angrily. “They’re tryin’ to make it all scientific and objective when the bottom line is that parents protect their children before anyone else. Sayin’ it’s part of a feral mutation is just bullshit, horseshit, chickenshit, and any other kind o’ shit you can think of.”
Logan couldn’t help but chuckle. The sound was quickly cut off when Rogue twisted in her chair and punched him angrily in the shoulder. Clearing his throat, he hastily continued reading.
“‘In fact, in the rare cases where the threat to a feral’s offspring comes from his mate, the feral has always killed or permanently incapacitated his mate. To date, the only observations of such instances were the result of the mate reacting poorly to the manifestation of feral characteristics in the offspring. Perhaps due to the prevalence of prepubescent manifestations of feral mutations, the feral parent perceives its offspring as too young and weak to protect itself.
“‘Other unexplained characteristics of feral mutations are the tendency for ferals to be male and the tendency of the mutation to breed true in offspring. Surprisingly, however, a feral shows no preference for its feral offspring over its non-feral or human offspring.’”
“More shit,” Rogue interjected.
“‘Additionally, ferals never choose the physically infirm for mates and it is believed that such a selection process is aided by their enhanced sense of smell and hearing. While identifying an ill person by scent often seems to be subconscious, many ferals have reported being able to hear defects in the way a person’s heart or lungs work.
“‘After first selecting and claiming a mate, ferals often enter a highly aggressive state characterized by hostility toward trusted friends and especially toward strangers, and the feral will visibly mark his mate as a way to ward off potential interlopers. While in the animal kingdom scent markers are more than sufficient, ferals subconsciously recognize that not all potential rivals will be able to detect scent markers, and thus the physical marking, usually made on the mate’s neck during sexual intercourse.’” Logan stopped reading and arched an eyebrow in Rogue’s direction.
Catching the look, she muttered grudgingly, “Well, okay, so that part isn’t shit.” Rogue straightened suddenly in her chair, smashing Logan beneath the chin with her head. They both hissed at the pain and Rogue warned, “Hurry up and get the table out o’ the way. Kurt’s comin’ with a group o’ kids and he’s gonna need more room than this.”
Logan’s eyes widened slightly before he sprang into action, sliding the heavy table against the wall and clearing the center of the room just as he heard a loud bamf behind him.