Chapter 10: Wounds Fester

Now that she had time to sit and think without interruption, Beth found herself missing everyone she loved. She knew there was no going home and at that thought she felt such a rock of despair hit her stomach that she began to cry. It was the kind of cry one had if they just lost their family member and in a way she had. In some way Beth had managed to lose everyone she loved without really losing them.

Again hard, heavy and unwavering sobs rocked her body until her voice left her throat and the back of her mouth dried out leaving that harsh cold feeling. The breath in her body was hard to pull back and she felt so much like she was drowning. Victor had cast her into a sea of blood and death. Even though she had managed to find a small row boat to save herself, the sharks still circled below waiting and growing ever more agitated.

With the realization of how alone she really was settling in her-pressing its ever baring weight down upon her-Elizabeth began to think about the one person who could protect her. Just how long would he risk his life for her, she was no one important to him and why was he even doing it in the first place? It was in this question that she was asking herself mentally in the back of her circling mind, that she realized he had some other purposed for doing this. But just what might that be?

Beth knew things were bad now because she realized she was starting to doubt the man who stayed awake to protect her in her sleep. The man who had tended to her every crying fit, held her through her nightmares, helped patch some of her wounds and even bought her some decent clothing to wear.

As she sat in her bed sobbing for probably the hundredth time she began to think very biased about him because he was after all a mutant and he was after all Victor's brother. Did he also hold the same gene that made Victor such and animal? Was there a chance that something, the slightest thing could awaken it in him without a moments notice?

The more time she had to herself the more it became apparent that Victor had really messed up her head. Beth did not realize she had stopped breathing and tears were just flowing down her face, until she heard a noise in the hall. She gasped, looking around frantically, the scars of her pervious wounds throbbed with anticipation of pain.

'Gotta hide gotta hide. Oh god don't let him kill me.'

For a moment she forgot she was not with Victor anymore and when she did, she began to cry again. Not out of fear but out of anger because he could still reach her here, deep inside of her soul. It just made her more home sick, she felt like a child lost, alone and scared without its mother.

She just wanted to go back home and be with her family, to forget this never happened, to pretend mutants did not exist. But they did exist and one of them was hunting for her at this very moment, probably furious that he was having not luck at finding her. At times when it was quiet in the night, she could hear the bushes rustle outside her window and she prayed it was not him.

When the nightmares got really bad, she could taste her own blood and bile in the back of her throat. Then she would wake up to find that Logan was again holding her sleeping form and rocking her. On those nights she forgot that Logan was a mutant, that he was even related to that monster and that he was dangerous.

Beth had herself curled into a tight little ball, her long raven locks draping in tangled cascades over her frame-when Logan came in the room. Having learned about what his own blood relation put her through, he understood that if he burst into the room no matter how worried he was-she might accidentally hurt herself trying to get away because she believed it was Victor.

So he cracked the door just a little, enough to poke his head in.

"Elizabeth…"His voice was soft and warm with that slight smokers rasp. "Honey it's Logan."

There was a sniffled response from her then a low sound of acceptance to invite him in before another round of sobs hit her. He closed the door slowly, moving toward her like a wounded wild animal. She felt his weight on the bed,his arms wrap around her shoulders and she responded to his touch, leaning into him.

Over the past few Victor-less days they had began to develop a system so he wouldn't scare her when he came to hold her through one of her sessions as they had come to name them. It was a good system not flawless, there was still the occasional incident but the rest of the time it worked alright. Elizabeth was even beginning to relax more around him-sometimes still her paranoia got the best of her and she found herself questioning his intentions.

When she leaned toward him, he wrapped her in his arms, holding her against his chest and held onto to her as if she would float away if she was not in his arms. He pressed his cheek against the top her head as he often did while coaxing her though these episodes. As usual the first twenty minutes was just rocking her through the sobs and softly hushing her. Beth was usually the first to speak.

"I want to go home…I miss my family Logan…"

"Beth…"

"I miss my family." She was repeating herself.

"I know…"He sighed." But Victor will kill everyone you love to get you back."

"He's never going to stop, is he? He will find me and kill me."

"I don't know sweetie."

"I want to see my mother...to kiss my sister...to hug my father. I want to go home...I want to go home."

"Beth...Beth please listen to me," He paused, sighing slowly." I promise this will not be forever. We will find a way to make him stop."

"Can you kill your own brother.?"

There it was, blunt, forward and the hard cold truth. That was what it would come down to-could Logan kill his own blood and could Victor ever die? The question hung in the air, in the silence between them for a few minutes before Logan could answer her. But when he did, she found the answer was not one she liked.

"I...don't know Beth...I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"You don't know meaning what? That you cannot kill a murdering abusive bastard?!"

Beth was angry now and she found herself pushing away from him, tears of anger now streaming down her face as she directed her frustration at him. She was on her feet pointing at him and screaming. But she was so angry she did not know what exactly she was saying and before she knew it he was gone from the room.

Lately, all she did after these episodes was to sleep and have nightmares before waking up screaming-but she had not felt anger like that before. It had been like this for days, Victor didn't have to literally be there, he had left scars on her physical being, tears in her emotional constitution;gashes in her sexual and mental body.

On one particularly hot and humid night she remembered she was covered in sweat. She could not remember how she got to the hallway or why she was there but she knew she could feel its cooling wooden grace under her.

Something made her turn toward the end of the hall-although she had no idea what made her turn or where she was going-Beth knew she saw something in the shadows. It was a longer shadow and it moved toward her slowly into the dim moonlight. When she saw what it was or rather who, she screamed and he just stood there staring at her with that toothy grin. That was until Logan stepped out of his room and the image she was seeing shimmered away, it was all a nightmare.

"Beth! Beth!"

The next thing she knew, she was in his arms in an ice bath, groaning in response.

"Come on sweetie…gotta get your fever down."

It wasn't until later she would find one of her newest cuts had gotten infected in the night and caused a fevered sleepwalk. The ice in the bath pricked her hot skin with harsh bites of cold and the water about her cradled her in its Arctic comfort. Her skin did not object to the cold but the rest of her body did and before she knew it bile and chicken soup hit the linoleum floor.

"It's ok…Come on Beth."

The room blurred and blackened, her head swam and at the same point she passed beyond consciousness. Logan's voice became an echo in her mind and all she could see was black as she fought her body for control. Everything objected to her, she groaned in misery at the sickening feeling taking over her stomach and the pain now omitting from her back.

It was days before she finally came to full consciousness and she found when she opened her eyes she was lying in bed with a cloth on her forehead and blankets piled on her. She groaned and looked around. The nightstand was littered with gauze pads, rubber gloves, syringes, hydrogen peroxide and purified water bottles.

A bucket lay only a few feet away and from her spot on the bed she could tell the scent of vomit lingered in it. In a chair, in the corner of the room there was a sleeping Logan whose head was threatening to fall from his hand. He was in blood stained clothes, his hair was unkempt, his beard was overgrown and his hands still held white talc from one of the many sets of gloves.

Beth tried to sit up but her head swam and so she laid back down. A wince of disgust left her as that familiar nausea crept into her lower belly. When she did lay back, her back shot with pain and a small cry escaped her.

Logan, jolted awake, lifting his head slowly and then moved over to her.

"Hey sweetie…How you feeling?"

"Sick and my back hurts so bad. Logan what happened.?"

He clinched his jaw, opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out except for a sigh. In that familiar Logan way, he put his elbows on the side of the bed, one fist resting in the other, those browns softened.

"Beth…your wounds on your back are infected. You're lucky you don't have gangrene...but they will still take longer to heal."

"How is it I didn't notice before?"

"Stress, fear…you had Victor constantly breathing down your neck. You were more worried about not getting killed."

"Logan I'm-"

He held up his hand letting her know he did not need to hear her tell him, he knew she was sorry, that she did not mean what she had said. There was a small lump that formed in her throat at the simplicity of his forgiveness because it had been so long since someone had just forgiven her for her mistakes.

With a heavy sigh she fully took in what he told her and dropping her head a moment she found herself staring at her hands that were pale as moonlight. It was then she realized just how bad she was, she was nauseated and not because of the infection but because she had lost so much blood. This was only problem because she knew it left her weaker than she already was and instead of crying, she felt a new emotion one that had not been in her system for a while-she felt anger.

It was a low heat in her lower belly at first, but as she realized just what it was and began to concentrate on it-it began to encompass her. When it took hold she felt her body get hot as if all her skin took on more of a pink color. A roar of a scream balled its way up in her throat and it scratched the tender muscles there with its harsh unreleased vibrations-the anger was growing. Beth could feel herself become somewhat stronger as she let the rage take all of her into its loving arms.

"Beth?"

Logan was talking but he was so far away that she almost forgot he was next to her. Instead she was staring at the glass vas on the dresser in front of her. What she did not notice was the color change in her eyes, they began to take on a glassy silver green appearance. As she continued to stare at the vas, the angry stare turned into a death glare and all she could hear was her own heartbeat. She didn't hear the glass start to crack or feel all the matter shifting in the room or notice the heat wavering around her body as she altered the energy in the room.

Since her fury had taken hold and grown into a seething rage, the room had grown abnormally warm. By the time she did realize something was happening it was too late-the glass vas had shattered into a million pieces and was flying in every direction.

"Jesus Beth!"

Logan barely missed the glass flying around and the large crack the dresser now had in it where the vase once sat. Beth was panting in shock of what just happened-actually she was not even sure what happened.

"Logan? What?"

"I don't know…but I think you just broke my dresser and you owe me a new vas."

"How did I-"

"Do that," he finished. "I think the infection must have triggered something in you. In any case…Victor if he shows up ever again will have a fight on his hands."

"Yeah…maybe."

When it came to him, fear still over took all her thoughts and senses. She would have to hang onto her anger if she wanted to fight him off at all. Over the next few days Beth began to discover that not only could she shatter things, but with enough time she could take things down to their smallest form. That included organic matter as she well practiced on several weeds in the yard.

Now, the score was a little more even but there was still the matter of Beth getting over her fear of Victor and allowing herself to feel all the hatred she felt toward him. Once she let that happen, she was sure that the little matter of him following her, stalking her or ever touching her again would be over. A flutter of excitement even hit her when she realized that if Deadpool was still alive, he might even have a challenge on his hands.

If she could kill them both, she probably would because it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.