There was a heart wrenching whimper behind him, and Logan could smell salt water tears along side the blood in the air, but he could not turn to help; it would undoubtably do more harm than good, but every drop of blood that splattered on the asphalt made his heart stutter with terror.

In the distance The Wolverine heard the whistling of a helicopter's blades beginning, and then a set of footsteps; heavy set, accompanied by the scent of sweat and old liquor, he recognised it… but at the same time he didn't…

'Ahh,' the balding man in shiny shoes preened, parting the crowd of armed soldiers like the red sea, 'How nice of you to join us, Wolverine'

Stryker. The name popped into his head and would not be silenced. This man was Stryker.

'And what exactly were you intending to take my little project, Wolverine?' He gestured to the girl that gasping for her breath through the bullet in her shoulder,

'Project, Stryker?'

'Oh, how sweet that you can remember, and here i was certain you had an unusual case of amnesia,' his voice was smug, full of pride.

'Let us go before i turn you into a pin cushion,' he adopted a fighting position, all the while not taking his hearing - nor his mind - from the girl,

Stryker smirked,

'and how do you intend to do that without a bullet through your brain?'

'Never stopped me before.' - and that was most assuredly true.

Stryker raised his hand, in a universal sign to his soldiers, followed within a second by a slash of Wolverine's claws where Stryker had been only a second ago, The Wolverine lunged at Stryker's exposed back but was pushed back by a hail of bullets; they hit him like fists; minuscule but precise and painful. He felt every searing chunk of metal enter his skin and run through his flesh and organs followed by them being pushed straight back out and his flesh knitting back together; it was strange but he was used to it.

Logan gave up on fighting quickly - although he hated to do it; he scooped the tiny brunette into his arms, despite her squeal of pain and shielded her from the hail of bullets; he heard the bullets thunk of his metal skeleton and knew that none could hurt her, his bulk made it impossible for them to get at her; she would not be hurt by another of their bullets, The Wolverine turned. and The Wolverine ran.

Having been born with such confidence as the Wolverine, he had began to run he had expected none other than the harsh stings of the bullets behind him though, and because of his stupid confidence his world had split at the seams; ended in darkness and anger and hate and the sound of bullets.

The Wolverine, so preoccupied with the war around him had forgotten.

He had forgotten Stryker's dear associate; the strange woman with the same dastardly affliction as him; with bones of Adamantium and a brain stuffed full of mush and mess because of the control Stryker had forced upon her.

While Logan did not remember Stryker the Wolverine knew him, and the Wolverine screamed in frustration when he felt five sharp, small claws rake into the back of his knee, the extreme strength of the girl's hands laced around his ankle, making him stumble and fall, The girl, the only girl, fell from his arms, rolling away leaving a heavy trail of blood behind him, He tried to shake the Animalistic-Female from his ankle, slicing his own claws into her neck to little affect,she let go, only to be followed by a stabbing into his chest.

The Wolverine roared in fury, and took control, forcing Logan back and engaging the Female in one of the only matched fights he had ever fought.

The fight became a dance, each leaping nimbly away from harm, occasionally feeling the pain of not being able to dodge, and it was not until Logan had her perched on his back - claws at his throat that he realised.

The crying had stopped. The girl was silent, not a whimper, not a weep of pain, and she was not a bundle upon the floor.

Blood continued to pulse from her wound, tears still lay on her pale face, but her face showed no pain. Her face showed nothing.

Her eyes - a vivid electric blue - flickering as though there was pure lighting behind her gaze gazed unseeingly into the distance.

And at her pale, blood streaked hands, bolts of lighting flickered like streams of water, her mouth was open a little and a puff of black smoke unfurled from there and her nostrils, her eyes focused eventually, taking in the situation with shock - perhaps the literal explanation there - her eyes zeroed into Logan's, showing recognition. She raised her hands and began to uncurl her fists like there was a precious creature inside that she was afraid to let escape.

And then the lighting stopped. Her eyes flickered, first to brown, then to steely grey, to the childish gold, followed by a forest green and then a glowing red, all around her the world seemed to fall into disarray; a curl of flames escaped her mouth, the earth around her groaned and grumbled, gusts of wind swished around her shoulders, her appearance changed her hair unfurling into deep red, bullet shells around her feet rattled, for a moment her skin dazzled in diamonds.

And Wolverine watched as her eyes flickered once to brown, her expression just pain, and shock, and misery, and it was because of the syringe embedded in her supple, pale neck.

Her knees shook, as though she was overtaken with her injury again, and she fell to the ground.

Stryker didn't catch her.

He yanked her up by her hair and threw her over his shoulder, uncaring as to her injured shoulder, he smiled cruelly at Wolverine and with a thud of the Females elbow the world began to fade as he fell into an abyss of unconsciousness.

And Logan watched as Stryker stole her away, her eyes met his with difficulty, her eyes… sad, hopeless, but her lips rose into a tiny, kind smile that was supposed to tell him;

Thank you, and Goodbye.

And The Wolverine did not awake until his world was gone.

EEEE, I FINISHED!

What do you think?

Sorry it's taken a while

xx