A.N. Hello, s'me again! Havin' fun?! I am! Here's the next installement, enjoy! R&R, RR
Disclaimer: Not my characters, just entertainment!
Chapter 14
Logan smiled with a growl when she lunged again, swiping furiously at him. He jumped back again and again, barely getting a scratch.
"Stay still, runt!" She growled. Logan laughed at her again, trying to bring out a 'different side' of her personality.
"Come on, do you really think you're better than me?!" He taunted her. She morphed once more into a different feral mutant.
"Do you?!" She growled back at him, her form a perfect mirror image of himself.
It was a faceoff between the real Wolverine and the shape shifter dressed in a Wolverine's clothing. The two circled each other waiting for the other to strike. Rogue, or Mystique, was full of rage and had taken a firm hold over the girl. Although she had morphed into Logan, it was still all Mystique's powers that were being utilised. Mystique was a good fighter, but Logan was better and of the two of them, she'd tire first without a healing factor. His doppelganger ran at him, popping the claws as she ran.
Snikt! Snikt!
She swiped left and right at him. He blocked her swipes with his arms. He caught her wrists and delivered a kick to her torso, sending her flying back, but she flipped in the air and landed on her feet. His objective was not to harm her, defence only. But he needed to figure out how to bring her back to him without enticing her to use all those other powers that she had collected, otherwise it could end up just like when she first lost control only this time she would be more powerful.
Mystique knew she would never get a good shot in, attacking him one on one out in the open. She growled in his low voice, before running off towards the woodland away from the lake at top speed. Logan knew what she was doing but followed her anyway. She was running much faster than him, not being weighed down by Adamantium plated bones. It got to the point where he was relying on sound alone to follow her. Mystique's powers had masked her scent. The faint sounds she was making stopped suddenly, and so did Logan.
He pivoted on the spot, trying to sense which direction she had gone. He could barely make out his surroundings, the moonlight his only source of illumination in the dense tree growth. He crouched low, poising himself because he no longer felt like the hunter, but the hunted. He resisted the temptation to extend his claws. He would not hurt her. But she did not reciprocate the sentiment. He turned to his left just a little too late at the sound of her pounce.
She leapt with such strength and ferocity from the overgrowth; she had six claws aimed straight for his heart. His turning to the sound saved him in this match. He let his left arm take the full brunt of the claws as he swung it up in time to knock her arms to the side. Her claws cut deep but not through the bone, not through the Adamantium. He used his right hand to grab her by the front of her, or his, jacket to throw the rest of her strike off completely, throwing her over his crouched position and into a tree a few feet behind him. He felt drained after it though.
He didn't think Rogue, or Mystique, could not take much more of a battering as he watched her struggle to get up. She still looked like him as she used one clawed hand to push her up from the ground, the other to clutch her head. His arm was healing from the gashes left by her claws, but not as fast as it should have, and definitely not as fast as he'd like. She looked a little confused, and then it hit him. Those were Rogue's imitation claws, not her bone claws. He stood up straighter realising why he was feeling drained. The imitation claws were constructed from her skin. She had absorbed a little bit of him when she struck. He needed to capitalise on this moment, now.
"You call those things, claws? Come on, Rogue!" He taunted. "Show me what you're really made of!" Rogue snarled in his direction, the confusion being abandoned for pure rage.
Unsnikt! Unsnikt!
She abandoned Mystique's version of his Adamantium claws and ran straight at him. He didn't move and inch. The last few feet, she leapt towards him and, as if in slow motion, just before she reached him, she pulled back her right fist.
Snikt!
Three bone claws erupted from her hand, heading straight for the left of his torso, but the pain of the claws erupting had caused something to click in her mind. Mid-air she transformed from Logan back to herself, but she couldn't stop what she was about to do. Both their eyes grew wide as the three claws plunged deep into his chest and through his heart.
Her body crashed into his driving the claws deeper and knocking them both in to the tree behind him. Their bodies slumped down the tree, which had three long fresh scratches running down the bark behind Logan's back. It took her a moment to realise what had happened, she didn't process that the claws were still in his chest until she realised he wasn't breathing. She had to pull the claws out.
Unskikt!
His body convulsed a scream that his voice would not permit at the feel of her retracting her claws. The wounds on her hand closed up immediately without effort and she fell back on her rear and hands and scattered back from him, away from what she had done. She was frozen, her chest heaving up and down as she stared at him, but a choked cough from him shocked her into action and she realised she had to stop the bleeding. He was still propped up against the tree but she dared not move him. She ripped the midriff of her shirt to have something to soak up the blood from his chest. She hesitated putting it in place when she realised she wasn't wearing any gloves, but realised that his shirt covered him enough, only three bleeding puncture marks were exposed, and proceeded to apply pressure against the open and bleeding wound.
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be..." She saw more blood trickle down the tree from behind his back, the exit wound of the claws. She wondered why his healing factor hadn't kicked in yet but then her mind flashed back to seconds before; she had drained him of most of energy, including his ability to heal. "Oh man, you're gonna die!"
Logan coughed again, this time clearer and was able to take in a lungful of air after although his eyes were still closed.
"Thanks for the pep talk, kid..." He coughed out. She looked a little more hopeful of the situation. She had stabbed him in the heart, through and through, but his healing factor was already clearing his lungs of the blood and repairing the damage. She had no idea where they were, or where her gloves were. She saw he was still wearing his and, with one hand, she carefully pulled off his right one, while keeping pressure on his wound. She managed to put the glove on her own right hand, and kept using her left to apply pressure. She twisted his body to his side slightly to examine his back, using her knee to keep him angled as she explore the exit wound with her gloved hand.
The bleeding was slowing and his breathing was less laboured. She hadn't drained him as much she thought she had. She rolled him gently back against the tree and knelt to his side still pressing firmly on his chest. She tried remembering the rest of what had happened while she was Mystique. She flinched at every strike and blow she relived inflicting. She closed her eyes remembering her final effort and squeezed them further shut until she felt gloved fingers closed around her left wrist. Her eyes opened as Logan squeezed her wrist, reassuringly. She let go of the makeshift dressing and let it fall to see reforming tissue underneath which she couldn't take her eyes off.
"Ah'm sorry, Logan, I can't believe that Ah lost control like tha-" Logan moved to stand up, her eyes snapped away from the wound and directly to his in shock. "What're you doin'?!" She shouted at him, all apologetic tones forgotten, momentarily.
"Gettin' up, what's it look like?" He fired back, before she pushed him back against the tree by his shoulders and held him there looking him straight in the eyes.
"Ah just drained you and stabbed you through the heart, ya big Yahoo! Rest up for a minute!" Rogue shouted at him, a bit of tough love. Logan wasn't sure if that was him talking or her. He simply growled in response.
oOo
A high-rise apartment in downtown Manhattan was home to another person who had so far evaded sleep this night. He owned the penthouse in the tall sky-scrapper, only the best for him. It was decked out in the most expensive pieces of entertainment technology and art work, not the most important pieces in art history and certainly nothing that reflected any characteristics of the owner save one. They were bought because they were the most expensive and because of their perceived prestige. In truth, he had far more precious illustrations occupying his attention.
The jacket of his tailored Armani suit was thrown haphazardly across some unsuspecting furniture. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he stared at the collection of schematics. He had one set to the side, already adapted for him to take advantage of for his company. In truth, he cared less and less about those drawings, despite the ridiculous amounts of cash he paid that thief for them. It was the others that he paid extra for that had him enthralled. He could see what some of these things might do, but the most interesting ones were incomplete and he is a software expert, not hardware.
He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to the elbow, and stomped over to his fairly well stocked mini-bar. He reached for the scotch only to find an empty bottle. He contemplated the bottle for a moment before sending it flying through the air and in to the mantelpiece, shattering it to pieces. Harrison, his bodyguard flung over the door and looked in. He was a striking contrast to his boss. He was a large burly man with hard eyes and tanned skin, whereas his boss was petit and pale. Seeing the scattered fragments of glass on the floor he instantly relaxed his stance.
"Get Ms. Dion." His boss ordered. He nodded and pulled out the door. Moments later, Ms. Dion walked in to the room. She was older than her employer, but that wouldn't be hard. She was in her thirties and very attractive, dominating any scene by her tall statuesque presence and elevated rank from the collection of designer business suits she always wore with her neatly pulled back blonde hair. She was his Executive Assistant, although most saw her as glorified secretary, but she knew she was important, and always placed herself in positions near power. She saw the glass on the floor immediately.
"Out of Scotch again are we?" She said nonchalantly as she sauntered into the room. She walked over to his desk, the schematics splayed out catching her attention. "New product line, Mr. Torque?"
He rushed over to the drawing table and blocked her view of them like a child trying to hide a broken vase from his parents. He was getting agitated.
"That's none of your business!" He spat and redirected her attention. "Get someone to clean up this mess... And get me some more of that stuff!" He demanded.
"Glenfiddich?" She inquired with mock innocence.
"Yeah, I only drink the best!" He sounded so much like a child, petulant and indignant.
"Yes, sir." She turned on her heels to leave, smiling to herself. He wouldn't know the difference between Glenfiddich and Gin if it wasn't for the colour, not that he was old enough to buy either. But those plans she saw, they were the reason she has been putting up with him, and they would be worth it. She knew more about them than he could possibly imagine, but she already knew that they were incomplete. No matter, she had someone working on getting the information they would require. All she had to do was make sure her 'boss' didn't screw up and to give him a push in the right direction to make sure.
oOo
The moon was slightly higher in the night sky now, illuminating the scene a bit better. The scene, however, would have very much liked to not draw attention to itself at the moment. He was still propped up against the base of the scarred tree. He watched her, sitting there a few feet away from him cross-legged, playing with a few blades of grass in front of her. Neither had said anything in a few minutes, which felt like hours. Rogue was finding the blades of grass worthy of her full attention, whereas Logan was finding her antics worthy of his full attention. He watched as she twisted the blades and stalks around her ungloved fingers and then straightened them and played with another, never picking them from the ground. She glanced up through her stray strands of white hair, catching him staring. He noticed and looked up to her face with a question etched on his. She knew what he was wondering. She brought her attention back to the grass.
"Why kill 'em just 'cause I can?" She shrugged at the grass before adding under her breath, "I do enough damage without tryin'." Logan heard her additional comment, but pretended not to. He wanted to change the subject as the last thing she needed right now was to wallow in self-pity.
"So, am I allowed to get up now?" He asked for permission mockingly as leaning forward. Rogue sprang to her feet and dusted herself down and went to help him up.
She hesitated, first checking which hand was gloved and offered her right hand to him, bracing herself for the load as he took it. Rogue pulled a little too hard, expecting him to be heavier, and he pushed himself up with a little too much strength, expecting her to be weaker. The resultant was a little stagger backwards for Rogue, and a stumble forwards for him. He caught her with his gloved left arm around her waist to steady them. As soon as they were stable, she jumped backwards from the accidental embrace, not at all comfortable with it given the amount of exposed skin.
"S-sorry!" She stuttered, hugging herself around her exposed midriff, not out of shyness but because she was afraid of her own skin. She already did enough damage for one night. Logan saw the reasons behind her reaction loud and clear. He cleared his throat.
"Come on, let's get back to our bikes." He held out a hand for her to take, so he could guide them back to the water's edge in the dark more efficiently. She took it obediently and rather numbly. He started moving after a moment's hesitation when he nearly expected her to simply teleport them there with ease. He guided them back to where it all started after a few minutes, in which he had time to realise that she was afraid to use any powers after this incident. She went for her jacket as soon as she recognised where she was and let go of Logan's hand.
"Where are you going?" He asked her. She turned around, confused.
"Ah thought we were headin' back?" She answered his question with a question of her own. He shook his head.
"We're not going anywhere 'til you've got Mystique's powers down." She looked at him, her face showing utter shock mixed with terror and her mind reeling from these emotions whilst wondering if he had got completely insane.
"What! Are you crazy! Ah nearly killed you!" She shouted at him, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.
"You need to be in control of her, Rogue, and you can't let this one incident set you back." She averted her eyes from him. He sighed as he decided to go for the low blow to get her attention. "I can't let you go back to the Institute if you can't control her, Rogue." Her eyes snapped up to his and he hated to use that against her, but he hated more that she readily accepted that she was a danger and slowly moved back to her original spot to try again.
oOo
On the other side of the Earth, deep underground in a metal chamber, one of the world's most powerful mutants was walking on his own. No lackeys, no minions. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out what to do next. The large metallic corridors echoed his footsteps back to him, the only sound of company in this place and the only thing that kept him from getting completely lost in his own mind.
He aimed for the largest room in this construction, which housed his most precise items. He reached the entrance to the room, which he had sealed so that no one could get in but him. He raised his hand to the solid wall of metal. The wall flexed and buckled and soon ripped open from the centre outwards. He levitated himself from the ground and through the mutant-made entrance. The selp-proclaimed 'Master of Magnetism' looked around the room.
His collection had grown considerably over the last few months. At every opportunity he acquired more and more items related to his quest from the government and brought them here. He was an intelligent man, and he studied each and every piece carefully trying to get it to reveal its secrets to him to little or no avail. It had become an obsession, but he had to know. The power was too great for him only to get a taste of it.
He set himself down on the ground and walked over to where he kept the most important items in his collection. In their own large and sealed glass tube, displayed on a life size mannequin, were the derma chips that fell off him when Apocalypse was defeated. The chips that made Magneto into a horseman and near invincible.
End of Chapter 14
A.N. Hmmm, the plot thickens... I hope! Please review, thank you much! RR