Jean Grey fell to the ground, the life and evil slowly leaving her lightening skin, and a peaceful, relieved smile quietly playing with the corners of her soft pink lips. The wolverine held her, embraced in his strong muscular arms, for the last time breathing in her scent. Why did such a thing have to happen? But as her life began to fade, her slim body gently lowered to the ground, the lives she took began to return around them, having been cheated of their short mortal existence, and offered by a higher power, the ever sought second chance. Logan, stunned into silence by the stiring bodies surrounding them, and ashes returning into whole beings, got up, picking up the deceased Phoenix and looked around to the waiting jet, just a few feet away. As he stepped down from the small mound, he felt a hand gently rest on his arm. He lifted his grief ridden gaze slowly to meet the sympathetic stare of Storm, her silver hair clinging to her face.
"Logan, we must help these people," she said, motioning to the injured and confused. He looked down upon the now still Jean, then back at Storm.
"Let me lay Her to rest."
After hours of salvation, provided by the team, lives were found and safe. They headed back towards the jet, drinking the satisfaction of the good they had achieved, Rogue clinging to Bobby's shaking hand. A small sound was just heard over the sounds of the their boots crunching against the debris. Logan's eyes scanned the wreckage trying to pinpoint the location of the sound, the other members tense, preparing for attack. He followed his animalistic instincts, picking his way through the discarded metal and crushed concrete. A hand, was just barely visible, its pale fingers shaking, grasping at the air around it. Storm kneeled down by the hand, her eyes examining the black band that covered the palm, the detailing triggering something inside her that screamed danger. She gently placed her finger ontop the band, and ran it along the jaws of the shark, its mouth open, ready to attack. And there was only on person she knew of, who had the picture of the shark on his person. Collosus, still in metalic form, lifted a large beam from ontop of the rest of the body.
"Logan…" Storm gasped, as the wolverine just turned away from the body, leaving him there to waste away in the cold night air.
"He deserves to suffer."
The young boy on the ground, drew on a deep staggered breath, tears streaming his face as he sobbed pitifully.
"Logan he's hurt…" Storm sympathised, cupping his trembling face with her hands, smoothing back his dirty blonde hair that stuck to his forehead. Her eyes traveled down his bruised body, tracing the cuts, untill they reached a piece of metal, similar in size and shape as one of Wolverine's claws. The metal spike was protruding from his stomach, blood gushing from around it and spilling onto his paling skin.
"We cant let him die," Storm pleaded as she stared into the young boys frightened blue eyes, offering a half smile to reassure him.
"P…please," the boy begged, his weak, pale fingers grasping onto the metal bar that skewered him to the ground. Logan eyed him suspiciously, every strand and fibre in his body screaming to just walk away, but the look in Storm's eyes rooted him to the ground.
"Please!" the boy gasped, starting to panic. He struggled, trying to sit up further but only succeeded in making his wound bigger. He let out a scream as Storm pushed him gently back to the ground. Bobby stood behind Storm, staring down at the boy. His old friend. Companion. His friend that he had left for dead, but who was now lying helplessly in front of him. A surge of emotions raced through him. He hated this boy, with an icy passion, but... seeing him lying there, like an injured child, confused the hate and anger. It was overwhelming, and he turned away, not bearing to look at him.
"We need to pull it out," Storm said, running her hand up the metal spike. The wolverine examined the spike, his green eyes searching for serated edges.
"Iceman, numb him," He sighed, defeated by the weather woman's over all power. Bobby, still not entirely trusting of his old friend, knelt down beside him placing his cold hands on the blonde's slim, pale waist, his thumbs gently pressing on the edges of the wound. The terrified boy let out a hiss, as Bobby's hands began to turn blue, as did the blonde's skin.
"Be careful Bobby," Storm said, proving that she also, was not entirely trusting of the flame thrower. "Pyro is a dangerous man."
She had said it. She had said his name and it still stroke fear and disappointment into those that had once knew him. Logan grabbed the top of the spike, with a growl and a surge of his bulging muscles, pulled it clean out, throwing it to the ground. Pyro, too exhausted to scream just lay on the ground, panting heavily.
"I don't trust him Storm," Bobby said finally, letting his hands return to their normal colour. He got up and looked back down at Pyro, his eyes clouding over with hate and pitty. Storm placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"Dont worry Bobby, he's not going anywhere for a while."
Logan picked up the surprisingly light boy and started towards the jet. Pyro's cold blue eyes staring aimlessly into space, a thousand and one thoughts rushing through his mind. He shivered, feeling the cold rush through his torn clothes and cling to his skin. The draining feeling he was getting from his middle, the blood running down his back and up Logan's arms, was pulling him unwillingly into unconsciousness. But the more he tried to fight that floating the feeling, the more it pulled one him, untill eventually, all went black.