Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men.
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A/N: Semi-sequel to Pour L'enfant (For the child). I will update once a week. Rated for violence.
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Abandonnerl'enfant (Forsake the Child)
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How much can one moment, one life, affect the future?
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Chapter Nine
En Route, Deathlands
Why he had decided to do this was simple; they were killing people. However, why he had decided now was a good time to return to the world was a mystery to him. Logan was beginning to remember who he used to be since he had spoken to Wraith. Some things were still fuzzy though.
Logan wished, in a way, that he could remember who she had really been, back then. On the other hand, considering what he was about to do, it was probably for the best that he didn't. Everyone had heard the rumors of how they managed to get everyone to talk eventually, he only hoped that he could convince them that he was indeed Wraith.
With the return of some of these sketchy memories, had come the knowledge that at one point he had known all four of the horsemen. He had, in fact, called them all friends. Luckily Death, out of all of them, he had known the least amount of time, and had never worked beside as far as he could tell.
As he entered the town Death was currently occupying, Logan felt the rush of familiar images hit him. He'd been here before too, long ago, before the X-men. He looked around carefully at the familiar yet changed landscape of a city that had once been a town, in his youth. It had been far too long to remember anything that would be of use to him now, so he pushed the memories back down, before they could overwhelm him.
He had been a different person when he had been here. It was long before the name Logan, long before the man Wolverine had been considered. Logan walked into the square, and searched for one of Death's soldiers. A moment later he spotted one, and approached.
"Hey, bub. Lookin for me?" Logan demanded in a growl.
"And you would be?"
"Wraith."
Before he could react, if he had been intending to, the butt of the man's rifle hit him in the temple, with painful accuracy. Logan was dazed but conscious. He crumpled to the ground, however, as the man had been expecting. Four other guards approached, and they silently lifted him into the back of a truck. This had been easier than he thought it would be.
~o~O~o~
Undisclosed location, outside 'den'
Sabretooth had followed that thing through the night, without a break, but it had paid off, because it had led him directly here. He watched it enter the door and listened to the sounds inside, before approaching himself.
Inside the warehouse was dark, barely enough light filters through the high grimy window for him to see the large main room. The room itself smelled similar to a kennel or a zoo. Hundreds of animals kept together in a small space, it smelled of these bodies. Sabretooth fought the urge to recoil from the scent. It wasn't that the smell was terrible to him,but rather it appealed to his feral side, to just let go and become the animal.
The room was covered in a scarred wood floor, with piles of straw and blankets strewn around, the walls had once been painted white, but were worn bare from claw marks and dents from both sharpening of claws, and battles between the Dogs.
At the other end of the room, he could just make out a door, that most likely led to an office, however, he would have to carefully navigate past it piles of sleeping or murmuring Dogs around him.
As he attempted to decide which would be the best route to take around these enemies, the door yanked open and the overhead lights came on. The Master stepped through the office door as the Dogs began to stir.
"Get up! All of you. And welcome your newest members." Master stated. Sabretooth stiffened, for a moment thinking that he had been caught already, before relaxing when several creatures had been led into the room.
These were new, he had never seen their kind before. They were much like the other Blues , in that they had fangs and claws, as well as fur covered bodies. However, they were much smaller than the other Blues, and seemed to all have a rather long tail.
Following the lead from the others, he showed no real interest in the newcomers, as they filed in and joined the ranks. After a dozen of them had found their places amongst the piles of bedding, a handful of red headed young women carried in large pots and metal bowls. The others perked up at this sight.
The women began walking up and down the uneven rows ladling out the greyish gruel from the pots and handing the bowls to the Dogs. A minor skirmish broke out the row over from him, as the woman handed a bowl to one of the females and a Blond growled.
"Enough or you can wait until tomorrow." The woman said, without fear.
The Blond grumbled but resumed his space on their pallet to wait his turn. A moment later she handed him his bowl and pat him on the head.
Sabretooth silently scoffed at this behavior, but then felt the tendrils of a telepathic search. To prevent them finding him out, he quickly shut down his thought process, instead allowing his 'animal' side take over for now. After a few minutes, the physic tendril pulled back and no alarm was raised. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Sabretooth took the bowl offered to him and sat back to wait for his chance.
~o~O~o~
LeBeau Mansion, New Orleans
Wanda and the children were repacked and nearly ready to leave, when Lorna walked into the suite. She leaned on the doorframe, with her arms crossed as she watched her sister juggle the sleepy Tallia, and the clasp to the child's suitcase.
"Were you going to offer help, or just stare all day?" Wanda asked, a little irritably.
"Just stare." Lorna replied as she walked over and took her niece. "Actually I wanted to talk to you."
"Yes?"
"Wanda…I'm not going with you. I can't, not there. It only holds bad memories for me." Lorna replied, hugging the infant.
"I understand." Wanda replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I wasn't going to ask you to come actually. We need someone to stay here; both to help the Guild and keep track of what's left of our people."
"I spoke with Collette last night, she intends to take on Them." Lora replied, with concern in her voice.
"I know, and they will need help with that too, it's part of the reason I need to go see Remy. He's stayed in the shadows long enough, the war is here." Wanda replied.
~o~O~o~
Cell, undisclosed location
They had thrown Kurt back in an hour ago, though so far he hadn't woken. Bobby was growing concerned over that, usually people were aware and screaming in pain by this point. What if he didn't wake up?
Bobby refused to go near the other man however, because of the Plan. Hey had developed the Plan late last night, and he sincerely hoped it had worked, though at this point, he wasn't sure if it would be a good thing for him.
Not that it really matters, I'm not exactly useful to anyone anymore.I haven't been in a very long time. Bobby mused as he watched the figure on the other bed. Either way, he needed to think of some sort of plan of his own.
The memories were now nearly all returned. He remembered returning to the mansion, the feeling of unreality of Gambit taking Wolverine's place as leader, his bitter anger at everything that had been lost. It was no wonder that he had never been rescued, with the way he had behaved…though Kurt claimed they had searched for Bobby, as they had when Logan and Hank had disappeared. Kurt hadn't come out and said it, but Bobby guessed that that search had cost them either Ororo or Emma…or possibly both of them. If that was the case, he wished they had let him go.
~o~O~o~
En route to Xavier's
Remy watched the children sleep in the rearview mirror for a few minutes, before saying to Anna. " I think this has spun so far down this road that we may not be able to hide away anymore."
"I know. I know that we are being thrown back into this war, I think Death may suspect who Wraith really is, even with someone else confessing." Anna replied. " I think Gambit and Rogue may need to return to the world…but it couldn't have come at a worst time for us."
"I know, with two more children, one just an infant, we aren't in the best position to handle all of this, especially if my nieces are joining us, but-"
"It's not just that… I didn't just come home early because of Genosha, or who I ran into on the road, Remy." Anna replied.
Laura interrupted from the backseat, stirring in her sleep and mumbling about monsters, before sharing awake.
"Mama, Father. Do we really have to return There?" The girl questioned.
"Yes, Laura, we do, hunny. We have to go collect your cousins, and find out why those other children are there." Anna replied, as she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed into the back to comfort the girl.
Laura snuggled into her mother's arms, as she replied. "But, they will find us there, and bad things will happen to us."
"We won't stay very long, I don't think, hunny. We just need to check on the others. " Anna replied.
"Would you feel more comfortable, if I had your mother drop me off at the train station and she took you home?" Remy offered.
" No. Yes. I don't know. I would still be scared for you, and I want to see the girls." Laura said. " I just am frightened of that place."
"I understand, now, try to go back to sleep, you will feel better when we arrive and you can see for yourself that it's safe." Remy replied.
Eventually the girl drifted back to sleep, but with a wordless agreement Anna stayed beside her, there would be time enough to talk about everything later.
~o~O~o~
Xavier's Mansion, Priest's children
They had gotten all of the little ones settled into a room downstairs. Mark said it was once the Headmaster's suite. The suite actually contained a sitting room with two bedrooms off of it, which decided was the safest place to be right now, so that they would all be together. Hannah, Beth, Daniel, Sarah, and Ethan all managed to squeeze into the large King size bed together in one bedroom, while a little later Mark, Clarissa and Gregory divided between the other bedroom, and the sitting room.
Because the other bedroom's last occupants had been a small girl and a toddler, there was a single twin bed in the room suitable to sleep in , none felt they could fit on the toddler bed. So after a short but heated debate, it was decided that Mark would sleep in the bedroom, and Clarissa would join Gregory on the fold out couch. Gregory had been at the heart of the debate, he had wanted Clarissa in the small room, and Mark to squeeze into the big bed, leaving himself only one as vulnerable to an attack.
Clarissa had pointed out that both bedrooms had windows so they were vulnerable as well, and that an attack was unlikely with the way the building had been disguised. Gregory had then attempted to have them move to a higher floor, but was out voted, at least for the night.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, despite his attempts to stay awake, in fear of the other's safety. He had, after all, done the bulk of the driving, especially when they were close to cities and towns.
After she heard Gregory's snores, Clarissa got out of bed to check on the other kids. She had known that moving before then would have caused Gregory to worry. He was a worrier, and the group protector, even before they had lost Priest and the others. He seemed to feel it was his job to keep them all together and in one piece.
He couldn't do everything alone though, and she wished he'd let the others help more. She wasn't that much younger than him, he could share the burden of leadership with her…she was sure she could handle it. Hopefully this 'LeBeau' guy would arrive soon. With another adult present, then Gregory would relax, she hoped.
After she looked in on Mark, who was sleeping, she made her way quietly to the other room, to check on the little ones. They had somehow piled and tangled together in their sleep, looking a lot like the litter of puppies her dog had when she was little. The pillows and blankets were bunched together at the head of the bed, and partially falling off.
With a smile, she covered them back up with the sheet, and went to lie back down. Now that she knew everyone was sound asleep, and wouldn't be walking around the building in the middle of the night, she was able to sleep herself, if only for a little while.
~o~O~o~
Deathlands, Death's Headquarters
He had watched, through partially closed eyes, as they drove out of the town, past well-manicured lawns, and onto an estate. Again, everything seemed familiar, yet different, but he had no time to dwell on such things, as they drug him limply from the van. He was still faking semi-consciousness, hoping they would lower their guard enough to slip out any useful information.
"This bastard's heavy, I hope they pay us by the pound." One of the men joked as they drug him up the stairs to the front door.
"Hell, Mitch, I hope they pay us at all, they forgot my check the last two weeks." The other guard replied.
"Yeah, well they know we ain't gonna get hired anywhere else, so they do what they want." Replied 'Mitch'.
He watched and listened carefully as the men drug him down the dark corridor, however, the men had stopped grumbling as they had entered the manor, and nothing of real interest passed them in the hall.
They reached the study quickly, where they deposited him in a chair and stood back, waiting for Death's orders. Death entered the room moments later, staring at the slumped man in the chair.
He nodded wordlessly to the men, who left the room silently, before he began. "Well, hello then Wraith." Death stated as he sat behind his desk. "Or do you prefer Logan? Or Wolverine? Or perhaps James Howlett."
Logan lifted his head, knowing the ruse had failed and the monster across from him was aware he was awake.
"Ironic isn't it? To sit in this room? Or is your mind to pickled to recognize it." Death continued.
Logan refused to respond, even if he had known what the man was talking about, which he didn't, there was no response to make.
"I see. You still remember nothing, perhaps even less than before. Yet you expect I-us- to believe you are Wraith." Death said, snidely.
Logan just glowered at the creature in front of him, a man he was certain he had once known, though where he was not sure, not that it mattered anymore.
"My Lord could give you the answers you seek. If only you would summit to his will." Death continued, unaffected by Logan's silence. " He could tell you everything, after all. How you are connected to this house, where you are from, what brought you to this point. All we ask in return is that you give us Wraith."
"…Screw you. I am Wraith. I took out more o' yer men then I can remember." Logan replied breaking his silence for the first time.
"I know. I know you have killed many of my, and the Master's agents over the years, however you are not Wraith; indeed, I do not believe Wraith is a single person, but rather a group of them." Death stated, unaffected by Logan's growl. "However, I shall humor you. If you alone are Wraith, how were my agents killed?"
"Poision. Belladonna." Logan stated, guessing that he had caught the scent correctly.
"Bravo. So then tell me 'Wraith', how, if you were indeed working alone, how you managed to kill both my First and War's on the same day three years ago?"
"Talent."
"I see, I see. And tell me dear Logan, however did you manage it from the good Doctor's gene pins?"
Logan fell silent once more, he had thought of a hundred different solutions, but none would be effective. He should have thought of this, however his own sketchy memory had hindered him in this.
"Do you know how I came to be Death? Favored of all my Lord's agents." Death stated, suddenly changing the subject.
Logan refused to rise to the bait, instead remaining mute.
"No? Well then I shall tell you. I killed the last Death. Ripped his wings from his back, tore his head from his shoulders and presented them to my Lord. I was made Death the same day. It is how it is done, and how it will always be done. The only way to rise to power is to remove the one before you."
"Why should I give a damn about your impromptu history lesson?" Logan growled.
"Because, my dear Logan, you came here, not with the intent of turning yourself in for justice, but rather to kill me. I simply thought you should be made aware of the price of this rash move."
"Ain't like I plan ta take your place." Logan replied as he started to rise, since Death was aware of his intent there was no reason for stealth.
"Nor did I, dear friend, nor did I, not until the moment of his death." Death replied rising as well.
Whether this was meant as a threat or a warning Logan did not either think about or care. He rose as well ready to attack his one-time friend turned foe. As Death circled the desk Logan crouched ready to make the first strike. Death was within range in seconds and Logan unsheathed his claws for the first time in six years.
Death struck him with a blow strong enough to send him sailing backwards through the wall, and into the waiting guards. The guards, who not long ago were discussing their lack of pay, were crushed under the weight of the heavy small man, but he did not pause to consider their health as he jumped back to his feet returning to the battle without missing a beat. He slashed ferociously, allowing his rage to guild him movements, instinct completely taking over.
This was not the first time blood had been spilled in these halls, nor was it the first time he had unsheathed his claws here. The rooms echoed with screams of the past and present as Death and Wolverine fought up and down them, tearing into each other with a fierceness only known to the so called 'Ferals'.
Death tore deeply into Wolverine's side as Wolverine buried his claws to his fist in Death's chest. Joined for a moment, the two struggled to cause more damage to their opponent, leaving rivers of blood in their wake.
Death threw them both out of a window in the front parlor, as the battle continued into the gardens, painful memories of a long forgotten past threatening to surface and distract Logan. This, of course was why this location had been chosen, in hopes of this distraction leading to his defeat. Instead, however, it only served to fuel his anger as he relived both the good and the bad of his once childhood home.
Death had, without intent; given Wolverine the fuel he needed to sustain his anger. Here in these rooms, on these grounds lived the ghosts long forgotten of a weak sickly boy who would one day become one of the world's greatest fighters.
Those ghosts did not weaken him, as Death had hoped. A miscalculation his realized as Wolverine rend his heart from his chest. Within moments, Death will be dead, unless his Lord sees fit to save him. However he knew, had always known, that Apocalypse would not save him, He would not reward weakness, and Death's miscalculation was just that.
As his vision faded, the last he saw was Logan disgustedly throwing his heart down beside him as Logan walked away, wound healing as he went. In a weak, last attempt to save himself, Death picked it up and returned it to his body before darkness overcame him.
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