All characters owned by Marvel Comics

Author's note: Things get a little saucy between our castaways, so red flag on this chapter for many mature themes. Sexual content and then some really gory violence.

Logan

The days kept goin'. Been here so long we both stopped counting.

We made camp for the night at the base of a bluff, our river nearby. We were both hot and gritty from the day's walk, so Rogue headed for the stream with her little sliver of soap to wash herself and most of our clothes while I got the fire goin'. Darkness fell quickly and I was just about to go look for her, made me nervous with her off by herself, even though our furry little friends had been nowhere to be seen since I had my talk with them, when her smell wafted in on the breeze. I swallowed a lump in my throat when I saw she was wearing only my flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, hem grazin' the middle of her thighs. She laid out our clothes on a rock close to the fire to dry.

"Food ready, chef?" She smiled and combed through her wet hair with her fingers.

"Chef?" I grumbled and handed her the leaf packet I had cobbled together filled with the same old pieces of fish and spotted carrots we ate practically every flamin' meal.

"Hey, I caught it, you cook it, right?" She spread her leather jacket lining side up onto the ground and sat on it to eat. I sat Indian style next to her and started shoveling food into my mouth. She did good today, caught a nice sized fish. Opened my mouth to tell her that when I saw her black panties and bra drying on the rock, along with my tank top and the rest of her clothes. The image of her in them black panties, her lips meeting mine that day in the river, ripped through me. I nearly choked, waving off an alarmed Rogue.

"M'okay, darlin'. Wrong pipe." As worried as I was about her, she fretted over me constantly. We were clinging to each other like life preservers and that kiss had only proved it. We were friends, had been for a long time, but never any real…romantic feelings between us. This situation was messing with both of our heads. That wasn't entirely true, though. I had kissed her once, had wanted more than just her friendship, had wanted to make her scream my name. We had chalked it up to an alien influence, but deep down I knew that hadn't been entirely true. At the time, she had Gambit, she had wanted Gambit, and then I had…whatever I had with Ororo. Didn't want to hurt either of them, or Rogue, didn't want her reachin' for me in the dark just because she was lonely and I was here when he was so far away. Didn't seem fair.

We finished eating. Rogue laid my jacket on the ground next to hers and stretched out over both of them near the fire, closed her eyes and got comfortable. In the firelight, my eyes followed those long legs of hers up to the bottom of my flannel shirt. Her face was soft, beautiful…I tore my eyes away. What the hell was wrong with me? Couldn't keep looking at her like that, using her like that…

"I'm gonna' go wash up," I whispered hoarsely. Take a cold shower more like it. She stretched her arms over her head lazily and bent one knee, rolling her hips to the side, the hem of my shirt playin' peek-a-boo with me. Jesus, did she know what she was doing here?

"Hurry back, sugar," she said and sighed. I wanted to yell at her, to tell her to get her ass up and pay attention while I was gone, but I had to get away from her. Anymore of that and I would have been on the ground, rolling her over. I stripped my pants off and jumped straight into the river. It wasn't as cold as I wanted, but it helped me get myself under control. God, she was so fucking beautiful and the smell of her…I felt almost sick thinking of her like that, over what I did watchin' her that day at the waterfall.

This was Rogue. Rogue! We were friends, just friends, anything else would probably be just desperation, me craving human attention, and it wouldn't do either of us a lick of good. I dunked my head in the water. I couldn't think of her like that, she was spoken for and so was I. But was she? She and Gambit hadn't been together for months…lovin' somebody and bein' able to make it work were two different things. And me and Ororo, we hadn't had time to figure out what exactly we were. Would our friends judge us harshly for giving in to a basic human need? Sick guilt swam in my stomach when I remembered Rogue's angry face and words when I confronted her about her relationship with Magneto. Wantin' her wasn't just a human need, it was an animal instinct and she was right. I had no control.

I finished washing and got out, pulling my jeans on roughly over my still wet legs. I smelled her tears before I got back to her. She hid her crying from me, trying to be strong, but I knew she did it. She had such a big heart and was so goddamned homesick. She had probably relaxed by the fire, let her guard down, her thoughts drifting to home and the people there. She was turned towards the fire, curled into a ball. I knelt on the jackets with her and laid a hand on her shoulder, stroked it down her arm.

"Hey, I'm here. It's okay, darlin'." She sobbed into her hands and tried to push me away, but I picked her up and sat with my back against the rocks, pulling her onto my lap with her legs across mine and her side against my chest. She cried brokenly against me, her body shaking with big gulping sobs. I rubbed my hand up and down her arm and back, held her until she stopped.

She pulled back from my neck, and I wiped the tears from her soft skin with my thumb. She was solid and warm on my lap, and it felt so right having her there. I kissed her salty cheeks, pressed our foreheads together and ran my hand through her still damp hair, shaking loose her slightly musky scent. Before I could stop myself, my mouth was on hers. After a startled second, she was right with me, running her trembling fingers through the hair on my chest, along my arms, moving her lips against mine. She made an incoherent noise and I drew her closer into my chest. My lips and teeth found her neck and she moaned, leaning her head back. The collar of my shirt slid down her shoulder and I followed it with little flicks of my tongue against her skin. One arm held her snug around the waist, the other relocated to her leg and stroked along the outside, moving dangerously close to that short hem. My mind screamed to stop, but I felt the shivers running up her body at what I was doing to her, so I moved my face lower, teasing her collar bone. Her hips rocked against my lap and I moaned against her blazing skin. She already had me hard as hell in my jeans, but I could smell how hot she was getting and it was making me lose control. I growled and nudged the shirt collar down her shoulder further and tugged open the top button with my mouth. I triumphantly nuzzled into her bare breasts, the skin softer than I could have dreamed. We really should stop, my mind repeated from somewhere down deep, but I couldn't. Her breath caught ragged in her throat and my hand kept moving up and down the outside of her thigh. I went higher and rubbed my hand along the smooth curve of her backside. Thoughts of our friendship, how this was wrong, that I was taking advantage of her flared in my brain, but I was drowning in the smell, the taste of her. I worked a trail back up her neck to her mouth, swallowing her moans in a feverish kiss. I wanted her, wanted to take it all away, the pain, the sadness. She lifted slightly on my lap and her hand slid down my chest, down my abs, oh god, kept going…

We both froze when ear-splitting howls suddenly echoed off the bluffs surrounding our campsite. Her eyes were wide and frightened for just a heartbeat, then we each stomped down our feelings and scrambled to untangle our twisted limbs. She opened her mouth in question, but I silenced her with a look. We slowly parted and stayed low, slinking to the edge of our campsite away from the fire. I motioned for her to stay put, stupidly hoping she'd actually listen to me this time though the look she gave me told me how long that was gonna' last. I stared at her until she blinked and nodded sharply. I needed to know she was safe, needed to get away from her smell so I could think straight. I left her and crept further from the trees into the grassy darkness. The breeze shifted and I caught the scent of our furry friends, the cats that had been following us. Dammit, I thought they had given up, decided to leave us alone. The smell was stronger, definitely more than just two of them this time. I swore under my breath.

Hadn't seen them since we had had been spendin' more time in the forest, assumed maybe they got bored following us, or that maybe we had finally moved out of their territory. I had hoped that maybe my little warning to them had been enough to scare them away, but I should have known better. The fuckers had to have been staying purposefully downwind from us, waiting for the right moment to attack. Tonight, I had been distracted and they had gotten the drop on me.

Sleek bodies shifted in the dark, their eyes catching the moonlight through the shadows of the grass. The hackles on my neck raised, and twenty pairs of iridescent yellow circles reflected back at me through the blackness. Fuck. I must have scared them, and now they saw me as a threat they couldn't let stand. The original pair had brought the whole pack after us, they danced together in a swirl of fur and gleaming fangs, smooth killers circled their way 'round me. I popped my claws and roared a snarling warning, but they came at me faster than my eyes could track. I batted a couple away, my claws connecting with skittish flesh and bone, but I missed one. It went for my neck, its mouth filled with daggers dripping hot slobber that burned my skin like acid, its weight heavy and thick against me. Claws tore and shredded muscles in boiling spurts of blood. The cat worked with all its might to bring me down to the ground, but I stabbed my blades under its chin, felt its scorching blood gush down my arm as it shook and died. The others hissed, darted around me in dense shadows. I had them worried, but they were crafty fuckers, started diving at me two at a time. I would throw one away, slicing into it, and the other jumped onto me, speared me with its broad paws full of razors. Their claws frayed the skin on my bare back and chest, knife-blade teeth chewing hunks from my arms by the mouthful. When I took a pair down, another approached me. By sheer numbers they finally got my ass to the ground, the survivors dodging my swings and taking toothy nips at me while I fought with everything I had left.

Rogue's scent flared in my nostrils before I heard her, and I felt her throw her weight, claws out, at one of the cats on my back. I staggered to my feet, and struggled to keep one eye on her while we fought back against the remnants of the pack, but knew deep down there was nothing I could do to help her in the frenzy. I let myself fall over the edge, let the berserker rage take me, that old familiar sick numbness sliding though me. I drowned in it, hacked and ripped and tore in a murky red haze, lost my grip to the snapping of sinew and the spatter of sizzling, frothy blood. I didn't want this, didn't want to slaughter them, but they had made it real fucking clear it was us or them and I was aware enough to oblige them.

The staccato click of my retracting claws sent the last cat quivering to the ground in a pile of gore and muck. I shook violently, struggling to get myself back under some sliver of control. I dripped in a mixture of my blood and theirs, and I fought the urge to howl like the wounded animal I was while my shredded flesh worked to knit itself back together. I caught sight of her shuddering in the moonlight, her eyes wide with shock at what we had done, but still standing tall despite the blood running dark rivulets down her ghostly bone claws. I stepped towards her and pressed my forehead against hers, breathed deep again her smell, letting it center me. Without a word between us, we ignored the carnage we had wrought and returned to our camp. I stomped out the last embers of the fire, and she packed up our pitiful belongings, utterly normal actions we completed on automatic pilot while covered head to toe in the drying red horror of battle. I forced my mind and body to move, tried desperately not to give voice to the sweet regret of what had gotten interrupted between us, or to the sick guilty feeling that I had fucked up and my carelessness had almost gotten us killed. We moved out into the hushed darkness.

Rogue

Logan had been skittish all week, not that I blamed him after what had happened with that pack of cats. My mind still hadn't been able to process that bloodbath, but my nightmares had returned with a vengeance every time I closed my eyes. It was the first time since I had deposited us here with Lila's powers that something had challenged us, put us in real honest to god danger. We had come out on top, but just narrowly. After that night, we had headed in complete silence for the deep woods, had gotten as far away from the grasslands as we could, as fast as we could, walking day and night, hardly stopping to catch an hour or two of sleep, just moving. He had barely spoken a word to me since, just kept us trekking at a grueling inhuman pace. I could practically see him jump out of his skin at every swish of the tall grass. I wanted to snap at him, lay into him for not telling me about the cats when he had smelled them, when he had confronted them, to yell at him for trying to keep me away, but I just clamped my jaw angrily shut and followed him towards the trees. I knew he had been trying to keep me safe, I just wished he would realize that I needed him to stay the same.

There was a part of me that spent the days tied into anxious knots. My brain and heart had been speculating back and forth between them if his behavior had anything to do with what else had happened, or rather what else didn't happen, between us that night by the fire. We'd have to talk about it at some point, but today wasn't the day, yesterday wasn't the day, and I highly doubted tomorrow would work either. I wasn't really sure how I felt about the sudden heat between us anyway. We were both passionate people, and there was no denying the animal attraction between us. Had it always been there? Had we never pursued it because neither of us was ever available? Pity fuck he had thrown at me before. T'hell with him if he thought that was what I wanted, what I needed. I couldn't refute that our friendship was shifting, I just wanted it to be for the right reasons.

Today, we had finally kissed the grasslands goodbye in the early hours of the morning and entered the forest permanently. Ever since we had crossed that border, the Wolverine had been on high alert. During our alien exile, we had spent plenty of time in and out of the trees that were sprinkled along the river, but even I could tell this forest was different. It smelled older, deeper, dirt and death tangled in the rocky soil under our feet. The groves of trees and small orchards we had traipsed through before had been sunny, airy. Here, twisted masses of spiraling branches towered above us and reached for the sky, layers of leaves as big as tarps blocking most of the sunlight, the little light that filtered through bathing the world in an eerie hushed cast of colors. The temperature was a good thirty degrees cooler during the day than in our grassy ocean, and the nights had gotten downright cold. The scraggly plants that managed to grow here were harder, darker, yellowed mosses and ferns the texture of thick spider webs blanketed the forest floor. We were still following the river, but from far above, walking the tops of rocky bluffs like a tightrope. The water wound its slow shimmering path below us.

I had hoped at first that his utter silence meant he was just being paranoid, overly cautious in his surveillance or our surroundings because those damned cats had gotten the jump on us, but I knew in my heart now that his refusal to look or speak to me meant he was guilty, blaming himself for the attack. How the hell was this his fault? How was he supposed to know a good scent from a bad one? There was no way we could live in constant fear, at the ready to fight back at every snap of a twig or firefly that flew by, how did you sort out what was dangerous and what wasn't? I couldn't make heads or tails of any of it, still, even after all this time sharing his powers. As we hiked, Logan stopped and sniffed every few feet, knelt to pick at the underbrush, the forest a whole new stimuli for him to process. The leaves hung high in the trees were thickened shades of oranges and reds, and where the sun peaked through the interlaced branches I could see snatches of that teal sky. His eyes were never still as we walked, constantly darting back and forth like a ping pong ball between two paddles. Those cats had proved that predators weren't content to just leave us be, and he was freaked.

I was thankful at first not to have to talk, because I didn't know what was gonna' come out of my mouth if he asked, but the longer we walked the more his heavy silence pressed on my ears. He smelled so nervous, and that scent made me have to swallow heaping mouthfuls of anxiety so thick it threatened to choke me. My guts had a bad feeling under these shadowed and shaded trees. Something was very wrong. There were no sounds in the deep dark woods, the breeze at times stifled by the dense trees. I found myself actually missing the white noise of the swishing waist-high grass we had left behind. There was nothing for my sharpened ears to process besides our light footsteps and steady breathing, mingled with the roaring of the river as it became turbulent rapids tumbling over jagged rocks. Even the birds were either silent at our passing or didn't come to this part of the forest. I wished I were better with his enhanced senses, could be more of a help to him. Maybe if we had been on Earth where I already had a basis for what I would be smelling, but here…it was like trying to learn a different language. It would take time.

He pushed us like crazy. I knew he was uneasy, figured maybe he just wanted to get out of this section of the woods, to get us as far away as possible from the predators we had left behind, to find somewhere a little tamer to camp. Midway through the day I pointed out a small cave that would have made a nice little spot to take it easy. It was secluded, elevated on a serrated platform of rocks. It looked easy for us to defend, and I thought maybe he needed a place where he could calm down and relax for a day or two. He ignored me and just kept walking. I swallowed the wave of sudden irrational rage that lapped up and over my fear. Were we going to just keep walking until we collapsed?

After hours and hours of moving at a runner's pace through the dense trees and over twisted roots and rocks, he stopped so abruptly in my path I almost tripped over him. He caught me in a grab that was a little painful on my arms and I winced.

"Logan, I'm sorry, sugar." He looked at me like he wanted to tell me to shut the hell up, but then cocked his head to the side like he was listening to something I couldn't hear. His lips were a thin, white line.

"S'okay, darlin'," he whispered hoarsely. He finally looked at me, his true blue eyes trailing up and down my body anxiously. "You hurt?" he questioned. I shook my head.

"Logan, what's…" his tight smile cut off my question.

"Let's take a break. Why don't you see if you can pick some more of those weird carrot things from the river bank? For supper?" He squeezed my arms and stood me up straight. His eyes tunneled into mine and I swallowed my panic, hard. Like I said, I wasn't good with his senses, but I knew enough that I could smell the sweet cloying smell of terror rising from him.

"Sure, I guess." I turned to climb down the bluff to the river bank, my guts screaming in response to his fear. "You're coming, right?" He held out a hand expectantly towards me until I rolled my eyes and took my dose of his power.

"Yeah," he said sharply. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow and started to pull more than just his power. Logan snatched his hand away and spun from me on his heels.

"Get goin' girl. I'll be right down. Just need a minute by myself, is that too much to flamin' ask?" I fought the embarrassed anger that surged into my throat. Trying to sneak a look into his mind had probably been a little childish on my part. His words, though I had maybe deserved them, had been hurtful, but the voice he said them in was terrified at the edges. Something was seriously fucking wrong but my pull on his mind hadn't been fast enough. I didn't want to leave him alone, but didn't see a choice unless I wanted to start a fight that would probably end with him pushing my ass down the bluff.

The carrots he was talking about tended to grow within a couple of feet of the water's edge, had so far along the length of the river since it was just a stream. I was so sick of eating them at this point, and I'm sure he was, too, but they were everywhere and easy for us to eat, didn't make us sick. I shimmied down the jagged bluff, angry at his dismissal of me, worried and anxious at what it was he wasn't telling me, thankful for like the hundredth day that I had listened to Logan and changed my boots back in New York. Seemed like that had happened years ago and he had been kind enough to not give me an 'I told you so' about that one, though I probably deserved it.

I reached the bottom and found the feathery leaves that topped the carrots. I figured I would pick the damn things and if he wasn't down here by the time I was done, I was going right back after him whether he wanted alone time or not. I tugged a few out of the damp ground and angrily clapped the dirt from them. He was right, damn him, we needed food. We had burned through the few extra supplies we had gathered in our haste to get away from the grasslands at warp speed. When I had a big handful, I rinsed them and flicked off the excess water before shoving them in my purse. Carrots. We should have come up with better names for the things on this planet instead of just naming them the closet thing we could associate. I was sure Hank would be ashamed of our blasé attitude towards the flora and fauna of this alien world, and if I ever saw him again, I'd apologize profusely.

Craning my neck up the bluff, I whistled in surprise. I hadn't realized how far I had climbed down. Where we had been walking was a good hundred feet up from where I stood picking alien carrots, and Logan was nowhere to be seen along the top. My stomach flipped a cold chill up and over me, that bad feeling getting harder to ignore. Where was he? Had he really wanted me gone or had he…gotten me out of the way? His sniffing and cagey behavior snapped together in my mind and I scrambled up the slippery bluff as fast as I could, my hands scraping at the cold rocks. That son of a bitch! Logan wasn't just nervous, he thought something was tracking us and had gotten me out of harm's way. Again!

I heard it as soon as I crested the bluff, a blood curdling inhuman roar coupled with the metallic surgical song of his claws. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted headlong for the noise. The breeze shifted at me and I caught a whole nostril full of the smell of warm blood, Logan's, and something else, something musty and angry. I dug down deep with the toes of my boots and ran as fast as I could make myself, my legs pumping wildly, sailing over rocks and roots. I saw a slight clearing ahead, there were slices of sunlight illuminating a ring of massive fallen trees. The grinding racket and the fetid smells overwhelmed me, strengthening as I moved closer. I slowed my pace, even though I didn't want to, knowing I needed to make as little noise as possible. My eyes transfixed forward, my feet kicked into something soft. I looked down, surprised to see Logan's jacket and flannel shirt wadded in a pile on the forest floor. I blinked, confused, but kept creeping forward.

I wanted to urgently pop the bone claws that were itching in my forearms and charge in, Logan needed me, but the scents, the sounds told me to go in low and slow. I was overwhelmed in an instant: screaming, grunting, tearing, metal on flesh, the shriek of teeth and claws, the crunching of bones. My heart thundered in my chest to join the cacophony. I was still too far away to put visuals to the soundtrack, and I numbly wondered if another pack of those wild cats had decided to challenge us.

I was still thankfully downwind when I came to the edge of the clearing, and I stuck to the shadows. I bit my lip until I tasted hot iron and salt, trying desperately to hold back the blood curdling scream that threatened to rip from my throat when the picture before me became clear. A furry, hulking creature the size and heft of a pickup truck had Logan pinned beneath its massive paws. The creature was covered in corded, rippling muscles that were barely visible beneath thickly matted fur the color of dirt. Along its back and head were black bony plates arranged like a suit of armor; its basic body configuration made it look like a giant shaggy bulldog. The creature's broad side was turned to me. It hadn't yet seen me in the trees, didn't smell me thanks to the breeze, but Logan had seen me. His wide eyes were frantic, pleading for me to leave, to get safe. I shook my head. Not without him. They had fought, I could see where Logan had wounded it, where his claws had cut through the pelt and snagged the creature's flesh in between the armor plates, but I caught sight of where his blows had struck those armor plates, his swipes leaving only three angry scratches. Just scratches. Oh, Jesus H. Christ. A predator with an exoskeleton armor stronger than adamantium. How the hell was I gonna beat that?

I digested it all in a heartbeat. The armor plating covered mainly the top half the creature. It extended down from the ridge of the spine to encase only part of its sides, and there were gaps between each section of armor, leaving the creature's fur coated belly relatively exposed, as well as its throat. It had a skullcap made of the plates that circled 'round a mouth full of ten inch fangs, currently coated with Logan's blood. The animal in me clocked the vulnerable points open on its neck and under its chin. Looked like it walked on all fours, and it was using its front legs to hold Logan still under its tremendous weight. His arms were pinned at ninety degree angles, and the creature's foot long curved claws froze him in place, not letting him slash with his own.

I had to shove part of my fist in my mouth to stop myself from screaming again when the creature dipped its massive head and tore into Logan's abdomen. Logan howled and struggled, but the creature ignored him and started chewing the skin on his torso. I forced myself to move, shifting towards the creature's tail so it wouldn't see me approach. I held my breath and ran full tilt towards them, my feet a frightened whisper. I had waited too long, and my fear and indecision had gotten him killed. I would never forgive myself, deciding in that moment that I would die with him. Through his pain, Logan caught sight of me and shouted my name over the creature's attempts to feed. He jerked his head forward and gave me the opening I needed, cracking his adamantium laced skull into the creature's stubbed nose. I flung myself towards its head, extending my bone claws in the same motion. My aim was better than I deserved, and I mercifully felt the claws thunk into a soft spot beneath its jaw, under the edge of the plates of armor.

The creature roared and shook its huge head, tried to throw me off, but I held fast with my claws and stabbed the other three in the soft spot at the base of its neck with all of my might. The behemoth staggered back off of Logan and frantically scrabbled at me with paws the size of whitewalls, but I was small and in an awkward spot for it to reach effectively. It bucked and moved back. I pulled out the first set of claws and knifed them furiously into the hollow of its throat. It roared again and shook furiously, sending thick syrupy blood gushing down my hand. I pulled that hand free and stabbed at its throat over and over, shredding it to pieces in a manic fog. I buried my head in its thick fur while I murdered it, and screamed my soul out against it, raging at what this creature had cost me. In my berserker fury, I vaguely registered how soft it was between the armored plates. The creature smelled strange, not sweaty and grimy like an animal, but clean, like the dirt and must of the old forest. Over its scent I tasted the tarnished perfume of Logan's blood. Roaring, I let the animal in me take over and tore into flesh wherever I could reach it. I laid open its throat and stabbed one satisfyingly singular time into its eye socket, feeling a squelching pop when the claw pierced into its brain. It shuddered and gurgled, falling to the ground in a massive, thudding heap.

I was bloody, wild, and mangled. I pulled myself off of it and heard its banging bass drum heart shudder and stop. It breathed its final breath, but I had to restrain myself from flying back onto its corpse and tearing it to pieces with my claws. Instead, I ran to Logan's side and sobbed, horrified at what I found. Claw marks and bites covered his bare chest and arms; I dimly remembered stepping over his clothes just outside the clearing. Why had he taken his shirt and jacket off? He had done the same thing when he hunted the deer, said they made too much noise when he moved, but leaving them on would have allowed him a little protection at least. One ear and part of his cheek were missing, his molars and jawbone visible through the hole. I had to force myself to kneel beside him and look at his tattered torso. I sniffed for the smell of fecal matter, which would have indicated the creature had ruptured his bowel, but thankfully I couldn't detect it. The muscles and skin, however, had been ripped open like a candy bar wrapper. My trembling hands hovered over him, completely frozen in terror. Parts of him appeared to be missing, and what was there looked shredded, torn to pieces. I sobbed again. Could he heal from this? I had seen him hurt a lot worse, but this would be regenerating an entire organ system. His blood was spilling out of him by the bucketful, how the hell could I stop it? Did I try to close him up, bind the wound to stop the bleeding, or would that be worse, because it'd trap all the germs and decay inside him? He wouldn't be able to eat or drink, if he could heal, how long would it take him? My eyes darted around the clearing. The smell of blood was going to attract scavengers or worse, and darkness would fall soon. We couldn't stay here. Needed to find shelter, somewhere safe. I had no choice, I would have to move him, but that would be a feat in itself. I was stronger than most women, but he weighed over three hundred pounds.

I screamed bloody murder when Logan's hand gripped my gory wrist. He was conscious and breathin', but barely. Jesus H. Christ. He groaned.

"Don't be…scared." His eyes though, those blue, blue eyes, were alive and fierce. "Be…strong…"

Tears blurred my vision. "Logan, what do I…" He squeezed my wrist until I felt the bones grind against each other.

"…My guts…push 'em…back…fix itself…always does…" He faltered and laid his head back on the ground. I cried out and moved to hover over him, put my forehead against his and sobbed my heart out. "Rogue…get us the hell…out of here..." He kissed my lips softly and it tasted like rust and salt, my tears and his blood. He drifted thankfully into unconsciousness.

Shaking, I moved back to his abdomen. Some of his lesser wounds had begun to close superficially, but his ear and the mess beneath me hadn't changed. I wished I could wash my hands and the thought brought an irrational laugh to my throat. I slid my hands inside him, vaguely reminded of scooping the guts out of a hot pumpkin. I swallowed vomit and set to work picking out leaves and other larger debris, then pushed his spilled intestines back into the cavity. A lot more of his body parts were intact than I had originally feared. There were sections with severe damage, but a great deal of it looked salvageable. The meat and muscles were another story. His adamantium ribs and hips glinted at me through the shredded flesh, and this time it was too much for me. I pulled my hands out of him and vomited until there was nothing left inside. I crawled back to him and to distract myself sang quietly as I set back to work.

When I had what was left in its approximate position, I was able to see how much that fucker had chewed out of him. His organs were exposed to the air and would be for days. I was gonna have to cover the cavernous wound before I could move him. Thankfully, his unbreakable skeleton had stopped the creature from gobbling up everything inside of him, though if it had more time I think it could have gotten the job done. I needed something to shelter and protect Logan's guts while his body healed and sealed itself back up. I could loosely bandage him with long pieces of some of the nearby plants, but I needed something heavy duty to shelter the wound. My eyes lighted on the creature's carcass. If I could cut or peel off one of the smaller armored plates and get it clean enough, it would sure do the trick. I stood and popped the bone claws that still thankfully resided in my forearms and stalked towards it.

Earlier, I had managed to stab through its fur and flesh, so I started there. Smaller sections of armor grew on its haunches and along its side. I stabbed into its belly beneath the border of the armor and was greeted by a horrific smell. Han hadn't been kidding; they smelled worse on the inside. I sawed my way through the hide up to the armored plates. With a little effort, I managed to trim out the piece I wanted. It peeled away from the creature's fur like a press-on fingernail, but not without a tremendous effort that left me shaking and sweating. I examined the piece as I walked back to Logan's prone form. The armor was lightweight and surprisingly slick on top. Bone-like, but strong enough that angry razor sharp adamantium had barely scuffed the finish. The fur and skin had pulled clean away, leaving the inside smooth and unsoiled, relatively speaking. I knelt and positioned the plate over Logan's massive wound, then tied vines together and around to secure it. I couldn't leave the plate there forever, the wound would need to breathe, but it would keep him protected until we were somewhere safe.

I had wasted too much time already, needed to move, to get us out of there. There were huge plates of curved armor the size of car doors, adding to the furry pickup truck fantasy, growing along its side above the belly. If I could cut one loose, I could make a sled of sorts to pull Logan, maybe use his legs as the handles, flipping the plate so the slippery top slid over the ground. If the fur and skin would pull away just like the smaller plate, it would be clean enough inside for him to ride. No better idea presented itself and I certainly couldn't drag the man unprotected or carry him in his condition. I stalked back to the creature's carcass and worked to dislodge the largest armor piece. With too much effort it came loose and, quivering and exhausted, I cleaned out the remnants of fur and skin. I belatedly kept the largest section of the soft fur that had been attached to the underside of the plate. It was the size of a bedspread, but I really didn't know how long we could use it before it started to deteriorate. A pity we didn't have any salt or chemicals to tan it with, would have been nice to have a blanket. My eyes flicked to the creature's large head and I remembered another way to tan an animal hide: rub it with its own brains. The vomit taste crept back up my throat. After everything I had seen and done today, I decided I just didn't have it in me. I couldn't waste any more time. The piece of fur would last as long as it lasted, and that was that.

My own brain was completely fried, but I remembered the small cave we had passed earlier in the day. It would be tough to get him up into the cave, if I could even get him there in the first place, but we couldn't stay out in the open, exposed. The cave had looked easily defensible and it was close to food and water. I tested my sled, pushed it and practiced a couple turns. The route today had been bumpy, but thankfully not too hilly. I would have to keep it going as flat and straight as possible, the thing was lousy to steer, but it would work. It had to work. He'd be heavy enough to stay in the sled; I would dangle his legs over the front and drag him. I laid the fur bedspread in the bottom of the plate, pushed it over to Logan and lifted first his legs, then, grunting, gripped him under his armpits and heaved him into the armored sled. I wiped the sweat from my face, forgetting my hands were soaked in their mingled blood. I shuddered. It was going to be a long walk, and I had no idea what else was waiting for us in the deep, dark forest. I could still feel my claws, still had Logan's powers. Just let something try and fuck with me. I gritted my teeth and pulled Logan forward.