Chapter 10: Death Knell

"You're lucky you didn't stay," Xavier told them later at the mansion. "It sounds like both Magneto and Pyro are now powerful enough to have destroyed you on his own."

"Yeah, thanks," Kurt muttered. Sabere nodded wearily in agreement – telling the team that they could have been easily defeated by less than half of Apocalypse's force was not encouraging. She was so drained she hadn't been able to heal her own wounds, and was sitting in one of the leather armchairs with two bandages over cuts on her collarbone that had penetrated her uniform, and held a gauze pad to her throat because the cut kept opening up.

"We just need new strategy," Scott insisted. "We're fighting a completely different enemy now, and we're still reading from the old book."

"Sounds like they can kick our asses out of pure force, anyway," Logan snapped. He was still grumpy that he had missed the fight, and didn't bother trying to hide it, even though the others had repeatedly pointed out to him that he would have either been ripped apart or used as a weapon to slaughter his friends. "We're definitely screwed."

"I think we need to eliminate Magneto," Beast mused. "He's apparently the most powerful, and he's keeping a key member off the team." Scott snorted as Logan grinned.
"That won't be easy, considering that's what we've been trying to do for several years," Scott said. "Don't give me that look, Professor, he outright tried to kill you, he willingly went to help Apocalypse, and you can't stand up for him anymore."

Logan ignored the argument and let his eyes drift to Sabere, who sat gazing out the rain-drenched window, obviously completely ignoring the conversation. The edges of gauze pads emerged from under her black uniform tank top, and her hand cupped around her throat. He was glad she didn't notice him watching – she looked so vulnerable, and yet beautiful in the cast of the gray light. He wanted, ached, to hold her and comfort her – she didn't deserve to be the one who saw her friend's deaths. She would reject him – maybe – but he had at least tell her how concerned he was for her…

Suddenly Sabere's eyes went wide with terror, and she shook her head slowly back and forth. Both Xavier and Jean looked at her in alarm, and Sabere bit off a scream and curled up in the chair, whimpering. Before Logan could even take a step, Kurt was at her side, and Xavier stretched out his hand to soothe the vision. But she shook them off, insisting she was just fine. "Nothing new, just…more details…do we know anyone with wings?"

Xavier didn't answer. "Go get some rest," he told her quietly. She looked like she was about to argue, but he turned back to Scott and Beast to continue planning. Logan felt a flash of hot jealousy as she squeezed Kurt's hand and staggered out of the room, still pressing the gauze to her throat. Let it go, bub, he thought. First Jean, now Sabere…go for a single girl, why don't you? Of course, Jean was on a whole different level than Sabere…He shook his head and returned his attention to the conversation. A cold thought struck him as she vanished into the hallway – maybe Sabere wouldn't even live to see this battle in New York that would be their end. Somehow that made him even more jealous.

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Sabere took Xavier's orders to get some rest as an excuse to leave the room, but there was no way she was going to go lie down and try to sleep after seeing that again. If it was so intense in life, it could be a hundred times worse asleep – and there would be no one to help her when she woke up –

So she took the elevator down to the Danger Room, trying to convince herself that an easy workout would be good for her nerves, even though her chest and throat had nearly been torn open. Actually, she was angry – she had to let it out, and better to release it on some unsuspecting robot than one of her teammates. The further damage she could do to her wounded body was just a side thought – she was a healer, for crying out loud, and she would find a better use for her powers than unleashing an ancient mutant tyrant.

Beast had created a bizarre new training session that seemed to have taken variants of goblin-like monsters from "Lord of the Rings" and some dorky card games and dropped them in Egypt as minions of Apocalypse. Sabere stepped calmly into their midst, knives in hand, doing her best not to think about anything, just to move and react and kill. She laid waste to the miniature army in a matter of minutes, feeling the murderous calm that must fuel Logan coursing through her as she moved swiftly and emotionlessly around them, slicing and shielding and flying and killing. Finally she was alone beside the pyramid, trying to catch her breath. Pain was everywhere – her entire torso was throbbing, and she felt the onset of a headache that probably had more to do with her vision than the workout. She turned around slowly, looking up at the pyramid, squinting against the eerie blue light that radiated from the cracks between the shining new blocks. At last she raised a fist and flung the knife at it – but at the same time the program ended, and the knife clattered echoing against the far wall.

She brought her knife back and strode slowly out of the Danger Room. By the time she made it to the top of the stairs, she was having trouble breathing and desperately craved aspirin. In her fogged, exhausted state, it was no surprise to find Logan waiting for her near her room. She was too tired to tell him to leave, and she was so tired she just wanted support – and Logan was certainly willing to give it. He would always be a flirt, but he had become so protective towards her – it was almost more appealing than his old self. But you don't want him to be appealing. You love Kurt, remember?

"Charlie told you to rest," he said gently.

She shrugged, stubbornly ignoring the stabbing pain through her chest and throat. "I wasn't tired yet."

"You're already hurt. You shouldn't have – "

"Don't tell me that, Logan, do you really think I care too much about what happens to me now?" She wasn't angry anymore – instead she felt almost weary, as if she was correcting a confused student.

He reached out and drew her close. "It's not over yet."

"You can talk…I feel like it's already happened." Tears welled in her eyes again, but she fought them down. Her head hurt enough already, and she did not want his pity right now. Pity meant support, and support could easily lead to something she didn't want…especially since she was already so close to him, and enjoying it…

"Come here –" Logan enfolded her in a comforting embrace. Any other day she would have refused his consolations, but she was so tired – and felt so empty…

So when he tilted her chin up to kiss her she didn't protest. This human touch, given when Sabere had just seen her world burn around her – again – was far more welcome than she wanted to admit. She tried to convince herself that this was just friendly comfort, but something snapped and the realized exactly what she was doing.

He pulled away with as much shame as Sabere when she pushed him. She couldn't meet his eyes, but knew that he wouldn't meet hers either.

"Did you do that to Jean too?" she whispered.

She couldn't tell what effect that had had on him, but he didn't answer. Finally Logan jogged down the stairs.

Sabere was too stunned, too drained, to move. What did I just do? Why couldn't she bring herself to turn him away, before it went as far as it did? All she could think was three years, three years…

As her temples started to ache again she raised her eyes to the end of the hall. Two yellow eyes met hers and her heart froze. She opened her mouth to explain, knowing that, at last, the weeks of bad timing and Logan's advances and her own carelessness and desires could not be explained. "Kurt, I…" What could she say? What could she possibly say to regain the trust of a man who never had enough to give in the first place?

"Don't." Kurt materialized out of the shadows, his voice bitter, his face written with agony, anger, and grief. "I can't – " He teleported away.

Sabere slid to the floor and let her tears flow.