Give him to me! Wolverine urged in wordless growls.
Somehow, Marie understood him. She rose dazedly to her feet, gently nudging her mate aside, out of the puddle of their mixed blood. His heart began to beat steadily, the scent of death receding from him, but he didn’t wake up. She sniffed at him, reassured that she could still make out his perfect, soothing smell, even under all the blood.
Marie! Give me the man.
She had a brief moment of lucidity: Logan. He’s a mutant too. It was almost funny.
Hell, it was fucking hilarious. She laughed, but the laughs turned to hiccoughing sobs as tears began to pour down her face. Too much; it was too much. She lost herself again, swept away in the haze of Wolverine’s rage and grief. She yelped at the sting as six claws parted the columns of bone in her hands and slid out between her knuckles. She raised her hands and looked at them in awe.
Her gaze caught the brutalized carcass laying out across the lot. She hadn’t noticed before, but her senses registered it now: the faintest of heartbeats. Alive. She backed away, terror overtaking her in a swirl of remembered pain. Her back bowed and she curled in on herself. She could still smell the tang of her own suffering—sweat and blood and she must have wet herself at some point too.
No! Wolverine growled, laying a soothing balm over the memories, pushing them out of her awareness. You don't cower. Ever. Stand up. Bring me the man.
Marie stared again at the sharp bone claws protruding from her skin. Her vision was sharper than it had ever been. She could see each tiny individual piece of stone and gravel in the asphalt. She could hear the wind rustling past her ears, carrying sounds and scents from miles off.
Marie, Wolverine snarled, growing impatient.
So many girls, she thought numbly, staring at her murderer. Girls buried in the woods. Thrown into rivers. Thrown away like trash. If he died like this, all memory of them would die with him. They would be invisible, nothing, nobody. Just like he wanted.
Swallowing back bile, she ran to the rapidly fading Jose and pressed her fingertip to his forehead.
Tremors ran through her as her body took him in, the last of his wretched life flowing into her. Marie screamed hoarsely and scrambled away from him.
His mind began to coalesce inside hers. She felt the shadows of his memories, dark and ugly, weaving together into his form. The moment he was solid in her mind, he spoke. Am I dead?
Wolverine leapt with a roar, burying his claws to the hilt in Jose’s chest. He grinned, flashing his sharp canines. Yeah. Welcome to Hell.
Wolverine turned to Marie. You don’t need to see this. A curtain swept over her thoughts as he dragged his prey off past the edge of her conscious mind.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Grr. I had wanted to post these four chapters together, but the internet stopped cooperating. Oh well, here's the last of yesterday's installment, slightly belated.