A/N: My normal note will be at the end of chapter. Just wanted to give the heads up that any writing in (BOLD ITALICS) is a translation! Onward my loyal readers!
Chapter 20
Bruce, though not a God, a Mutant, or a Vampire with talented gifts of intuition, believes there to be genuine compassion from Daria. He had been warned by Tony, Fury, and Natasha under no circumstances to believe anything that Daria said. Natasha said that he should never look her directly in the eye. But all of that nonsense faded to the back of his mind as he fearlessly took a seat next to her on the table, setting the voice recorder in the snug space between them. Bruce is confident that the Other Guy is likely to make an appearance before Daria can harm him.
"So, you were born a Vampire?" Bruce asks, silently astounded by how little the world really knows about these creatures. "I'm not sure I understand your term of 'Hybrid.'"
Daria's feet sway gently back and forth like a child's on a swing. "No one is 'born' Vampire. A person must be turned by another Vampire." She snorts lightly, "It is not a disease, the Vampires on the news are lying to your public because they know humans are loathe to accept what they cannot understand." Bruce's scratching on the paper speeds up. "I was a supernatural being before I was turned. I was a Shifter. Well, not a true Shifter, but a Shifter none the less."
Bruce is jotting down notes in a standard composition notebook as she speaks. "I'm sorry if this all seems tedious to you. But what is a Shifter? What kind of Shifter were you?"
"A true Shifter is a supernatural being that can shape themselves into any kind of animal they have lain eyes upon, whether they saw the creature in person or by image. I was a Werepanther. Every full moon I was forced to endure shifting into a full Panther. Weres were considered to be monsters of the night, thanks given to the Vampires who had sought their extinction and instigated their persecution at one point. Those intelligent enough took great strides to retain hidden identities."
"Is a shifter an attribute brought by genetics or is it viral?" Bruce asks. He glances up and recognizes confusion at these terms. He simplifies the question for her. "Were your parents Werepanthers?" the word foreign on his tongue, nearly stumbling over it.
Daria bites the edge of her bottom lip gently as she processes the new terms. "Genetic is to be born with it, yes? Then I assure you it is genetic. And I take viral to mean by infection or disease?" She smiles with amusement as Bruce stares open mouthed at her lightening speed at absorbing new information. "I do not believe it is viral, but then again, I have not met each individual shifter in this world."
Bruce shakes his head slightly. "Incredible. Do all Vampires learn as quickly as you? Or do you just have a knack for science?"
"Hmph," Daria replies, turning her nose upward, "Your flattery won't work with me. Either that or you honestly believe your intelligence is beyond mine, which it is not."
"I didn't mean it that way-" Bruce begins to defend himself.
Daria smirks. "Your strength does not lie with your art of deception, doctor." She can feel the heat of Bruce's blood rise as his cheeks flush from embarrassment. "Not all Vampires are intelligent if that is what you seek to know," she replies, trying to keep the chill from her voice. "I am an apt student when I wish to be. Without the requirement of little to no sleep or rest, I tend to become enthused and absorbed with topics that pique my interest. Though, technology is beyond my reach, electricity in particular exceedingly baffles me."
With a chuckle, Banner sets his notebook in his lap. "Technology and energy is Stark's expertise. If you want to learn more, I would suggest discussing further with him."
"In that case, I would rather go without that particular knowledge," Daria replies tersely. "How is it that you two became involved? You are a doctor, no?"
Bruce pushes his glasses up slightly and runs a hand through his hair. "We met when the Avengers was formed. As for now, we are friends and he happens to keep the lights on for my genetic and personal research. In all seriousness, he really isn't such a nuisance once you get used to him."
Daria snorts in response. "I find that difficult to believe."
Bruce shrugs. "Under recent circumstances, he is the kind of man you want on your side." He gives her a pointed look. "I don't generally push advice onto others, but if I were you I would take him on his offer."
Blood beginning to boil, the Panther stalks forward in her mind cautiously. Daria struggles to maintain focus on the conversation. "Politics and warfare is of no interest to me."
"I thought the same thing until my life became personally affected by it," he says as he jots in notebook again. "The world is changing, and you can either be a part of it or hide."
The Panther growls in Daria's mind. 'Hide. Hide. Hide. Hide with Mate. Hide. Hide with Pack. Hide…' The beast forces images into her sight of Logan lying nude on the forest floor. Daria tries to push her back, but another image replaces Logan. She sees Victor spooning Daria in the small apartment in Manhattan. 'Pack. Ours. Hide.' She sees Daria walking with the brothers on either side of her through the Urals, eliciting a purring from the Panther.
"I was never a part of the world," Daria replies smoothly, refusing to give a definitive answer as she mentally pushes the animal back into a corner.
Daria is surprised at his short laugh. "Everyone is a part of the world, whether they want to be or not. But we're not here to discuss philosophy." He smiles, showing his straight white teeth. Quickly, his nose is back into the journal with his pen in hand. "So, tell me about your parents?" he asks without looking up.
She looks away from him and towards her feet that resume swinging gently. "I have no parents. It took years after my turning to realize that the people who raised me were not my parents by birth. Though, I assure you, my adoptive parents shortly discovered the truth of my being." She briskly brushes her hands together twice, as if rubbing away the offense. "They were appalled and married me off, wiping their hands of me."
"Do you have children? Where is your husband now?" Bruce continues without looking up from his writing.
The Panther charges forward, trying to claw at Daria's psyche in order to desist her from speaking aloud. 'Stop lying!' she snarls, 'Admit what you did!' Daria falters, how long has she been lying? What lies? The Panther takes the opportunity to move forward.
"None are alive today. My husband, if you could even call him that, is rightfully dead," Daria half growls, causing Bruce to look up.
Daria's eyes are shifting rapidly between her startling green and cat-like appearance. He wasn't imagining the change earlier.
"Did you kill your husband, Daria?" Bruce asks evenly as her eyes continue to shift. "What happened to your children?"
In the blink of an eye, Daria is crouched and balanced on the balls of her feet in the middle of the sterile room. Her hands are clapped tightly over her ears as she rocks back and forth. "
"Стоп! Не говорить о них! Я не означает его! Я не означает его!" Daria screams shrilly. (Stop! Don't speak of them! I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!)
Bruce snatches the recorder and stows it in his pocket before he moves to kneel beside her. Keeping his voice as calm as possible, he speaks gently. "I'm sorry for asking. It's fine. You don't have to answer."
Hesitantly, Banner moves to put a hand on her shoulder as her babbling stops. He instantly wishes he had not. Daria screams loudly in complete terror, scrambling away from his minor touch as if he had burned her. With a loud crash, Daria has thrown herself into the furthest corner of the room, taking out the nearby table and cabinet with her in the process. She is crying hysterically with her arms wrapped tightly around her.
Banner shifts uncomfortably, the Hulk growing more agitated as her choking sobs become increasingly louder. He moves quickly to the intercom by the elevator. He has to raise his voice over her crying to be heard. "Send Logan or Victor down here now!"
"The Big Guy's patience is already being bested by a feeble woman?" Tony's amused voice answers back, "Edward Scissor Hands has left the building, but I'll send the other henchman down. Unless you think she would prefer my stunning company-"
"Damn it, Stark, send him down right now!" Bruce hollers into the intercom and cutting off his friend's quip.
Daria is no longer hiding in the corner. Cabinets and tables are being shattered and splintered as she throws them against the walls without an ounce of effort. Wincing as he catches sight of her grabbing one of the computer monitors, Bruce ducks as it hurls where his head has been.
"I thought she was worried about me causing death and destruction." Victor's voice cuts through the sounds of demolition as the elevator doors open beside Bruce.
Victor steps into the room without a second glance to the growing destruction and debris as Daria continues to wreak havoc on the laboratory.
"One minute she was answering questions and the next she was screaming in Russian and melting down," Bruce explains loudly, unaware that Victor could probably hear him in a hurricane.
Victor turns sharply on the scientist, "What did you ask her?"
Bruce clenches his jaw but answers the feral mutant anyway. "I asked if she had killed her husband and what happened to her children."
With the Sabertooth itching to rip out his throat, Victor struggles against the alcohol and rolls his shoulders to center himself. Daria will be difficult enough to calm without having The Hulk tearing apart Manhattan as well. "Get the fuck out of here."
"I can help," Bruce says firmly as he narrowly dodges a beaker that shatters against the wall beside him.
Victor doesn't miss the brief flash of dizzying green that crosses over scientist's eyes. "I think you and I both know that you need to leave. Now."
Not willing to destroy Stark Tower, Bruce nods and steps into the elevator as Daria throws the already damaged MRI machine across the wide room. He tries to push away the guilt, knowing that he could didn't have to press her but he did it anyway.
"Should I send you help?" he asks, his hand holding open the door.
Victor lets out a hoot of laughter. "Not unless you want her to escape into New York again."
Bruce nods and allows the door to shut with a swift 'whoosh.'
Unnerved by the sudden silence, Victor searches the rubble for Daria. "Daria, dear, you can't hide from me." Flattery seems to be the best policy with her, at least the majority of the time. "I like what you've done with the place." He sniffs the air and instinctively looks upward.
Daria is perched on top of the hanging light fixture. She tilts her head at him, as if she does not understand what he is saying. Victor motions gently with a crooked finger for her to come down. But her body shudders as she looks down at him, and her fingers tighten over the metal cables suspending the lights.
"Просьба прийти. Я не повредит вам," Victor responds fairly fluently, having spent all of his spare time learning her language while hunting her down. (Please come down. I will not hurt you.)
Daria shakes her head at him. He can see tears forming around her eyes. "Я боюсь." (I am afraid.)
Victor frowns. This is not the strong, confident, strategic Vampiress he knows so well. Above him, this woman is shaking from fear, from the sight of him. Daria reeks of terror and confusion. This is not some playful game of hers, not even for talented acting abilities.
"Я приду вас. Не надо бояться," he says calmly, waiting for her to make some form of response. (I will come get you. Do not be afraid.)
There is a moment of hesitation before she nods once, but firmly. Victor smiles, but not far enough to expose his canines. He crouches down slightly before agilely launching himself upward. The light fixture sways dangerously with his adamantium weighed body. Daria instantly wraps her arms around his neck without any indication and he responds by gripping her waist before letting go and dropping to the floor.
"Ты кто? Как вы знаете мое имя?" she asks quietly, her arms slowly removing themselves from his neck as he lets go of her waist. (Who are you? How do you know my name?)
"Я Victor. Мы с друзьями." Victor says, confusion now marking his own features. Speaking is Russian is quickly trying his patience. "English now?" (I am Victor. We are friends.)
"Я не знаю вас," she says as she takes a step back. Her brows furrow slightly. "No English." (I do not know you.)
Victor frowns at her accent, heavier than he has ever heard it. Her English is nearly unrecognizable. Straining to remember more of the foreign language, he begins to struggle.
"Мы с друзьями. Старые, хорошие друзья," Victor tries to explain as she continues to back away from him, half stumbling over the wreckage. "Daria?" (We are friends. Old, good friends.)
'It's only a half lie,' The Sabertooth chuffs with amusement in his head. Scratching the back of his neck, he watches wearily. Where the fuck is the runt when he needs him? He leans in slightly as she is backing herself into the corner. Her eyes are green, no trace of the Panther's presence in them that he can see.
"Victor?" she says, her voice barely a whisper as she sounds out his name slowly.
He nods as patiently as the situation calls for. "Yes." He points a clawed finger at his own chest. "Victor."
Daria suddenly smiles, though her eyes do not glint dangerously with the natural growth of instinctive communication. This smile is innocent, child-like. "Daria," she says more deliberately, pointing at herself. She points at him. "Victor." She giggles as if this is a great accomplishment, but more so as she repeats his name quietly to herself.
Victor turns sharply as he hears the elevator doors open. Logan comes rushing into the room. Wading through the destruction, he makes a beeline for his brother, grabbing him roughly by the throat and forcing him against the wall. Victor easily pulls Logan's hand away from his throat. Logan snarls before turning toward Daria.
"Dasha?" he asks frantically, his hands moving toward her.
Fear suddenly fills her features as Logan towers her, his body only inches from her. Daria is instantly on her knees in front of him, despite the glass and metal shards. Her hands are flat on the ground and her hair hangs forward to shield her face from him. Submission and fear rolls off of her.
'Mine! Take her now!' the Wolverine encourages as she remains kneeling. Logan is disgusted at the thought of her handing herself over, of being weak enough to fear him. He leans down to grab her upper arm and pull her to her feet. She's like a rag doll in his touch. He could do anything to her and she wouldn't put up a fight. Daria looks at Victor, her green eyes silently pleading for help.
"What have they done to her?" Logan demands as he drops his hands to his side. "What did you do?"
Victor's growl rumbles in his chest. "I didn't do a damn thing. I managed to stop her from bringing out Mr. Hyde and vanishing. You know she isn't in her right mind. Where the fuck have you been?" He takes a step closer, slightly taller than his brother. The Sabertooth moves to the front of his psyche. "Getting ready to run again, runt?"
"Don't make me hurt you, Victor," Logan warns, shifting his body slightly to block Daria from his view.
His brother laughs lifelessly. "Like you could even leave a mark, Jimmy."
Logan throws a punch at Victor's face, holding nothing back. Before Victor can straighten himself or Logan can land another attack, Daria is between them, standing protectively in front of Victor. The sight is ridiculous as she stands between the two muscled men.
"No! No! No!" she raises her voice. Her finger is shaking up at Logan's face.
Half wanting to laugh, Logan moves to take a step forward. Daria's small open hands push against his chest, sending him flying into a metal cabinet. Logan shakes himself and struggles to pull himself out of the body shaped indent that is now encompassing him. He looks up to see Daria with a hand clasped over her mouth, unbelieving of what she has done.
Daria suddenly removes her hand to allow a string of giggling to escape. Logan stares, slightly slack jawed at her reaction. Even Victor is chuckling lightly behind her. Logan begins to make his way toward them, nudging debris from his path with his boots. Daria is still giggling as Logan approaches her.
She stands straight and points to her chest. "Daria."
Confused, Logan grudgingly looks to his brother for assistance. "What the fuck? If you fucking damaged her by hitting her head again…"
Victor steps forward and points at Logan, "Jimmy."
Daria smiles brightly. She points to herself. "Daria." Her finger moves to gently graze Logan's chest. "Yimmy."
Logan glares at Victor as she mispronounces a name he hasn't gone by in more than forty years. He huffs and shakes his head at Daria. Pointing to himself, he speaks clearly. "Logan."
His correction makes her frown. But she grazes his chest again with her extended finger. "Logahn."
The Wolverine whimpers in his mind. 'Why doesn't she recognize us?'
Logan focuses on Victor again. "How do we get her back? What's wrong with her?"
Victor shakes his head. "I don't know. According to Banner, he set her off when he was questioning her." He steps closer to Logan and lowers his voice as Daria picks up an abandoned notebook and flips through the pages. "She isn't herself."
"No fucking kidding," Logan grounds out as he watches her tugging at the sweat suit on her body, her fingers tracing the tight knit fabric.
"Jimmy, she doesn't even remember how to speak English. She doesn't know who we are," he presses, trying to get his point through.
Logan catches her smiling hesitantly at him and he tries to return the gesture, though he is sure it came across as more of a grimace. "It isn't the Panther," he says to his brother, watching her from the corner of his eye.
Victor smirks at his brother's nickname for her other half. "And how would you know the difference? You barely know her as it is."
Suppressing a snarl and the urge to start a fight, Logan swallows back his retort. "You can tell by her eyes. They haven't shifted over. Not to mention the Panther knows how to speak God damned English."
"Then who is in there?" Victor demands, his baritone causing Daria to turn her attention to him.
Logan shakes his head, "How the fuck should I know?"
Daria is suddenly in front of Logan. "Logahn," she says quietly. "Shhh." She brings a finger up to her smiling lips.
"Dasha," he says calmly, but his private name for her causes her to frown.
Without another glance at him, she turns toward Victor. "Кто же он?" (Who is he?)
Logan fights off the Wolverine's natural instinct to constantly have physical contact with her. He strains himself to remain calm as she turns to Victor for understanding. "What is she saying?" The Wolverine is berating him inwardly, 'We should have been learning her language, tried fucking harder for her! She's going to choose him-'Logan shoves him back until the whining fades. He refuses to be jealous or threatened by that fucking psychopath.
Victor frowns as he watches Jimmy's eyes shift from gold to hazel. Unlike him though, Jimmy rarely lets the other half loose. Half hoping the runt's eyes stay gold, his focus shifts back to Daria after they settle on hazel. How much can he tell her without causing her to run away? She probably already thinks they are insane, that they kidnapped her. What state can her mind truly be in?
"She wants to know who you are," Victor replies. "What the fuck am I supposed to tell her? 'Oh, this is Logan, he's your wanna-a-be-Mate. We're brothers and try to kill each other every few decades or so.'" A smug smirk crosses his features at the runt's temper rising. "I'm sure that we'll put her in your favor."
"Listen, bub," Logan starts, trying to keep his claws back, "As far as I'm concerned, we aren't related. I'm not going to just be labeled as a friend so you can weasel your way in while Daria's off her damn rocker."
"She is cooperating for now, do you want to set her off?" Victor half threatens. "You want to be the reason she goes further into the deep end? Be my guest, I'm quite fond of that side of her."
Logan snarls, but chokes it back as he sees the concern cross over Daria's face as she stands between them, watching them banter in a language she no longer understands.
"Fine," Logan surrenders. "You tell her that I am her friend and that we live together. Got it?"
Victor raises his lip to expose a sharp canine before he nods, turning his focus on Daria.
"Daria. Logan-" he points at his younger brother for emphasis. "Это мой брат. Он является вашим хорошим другом. Вы разделяете дом с ним." (Is my brother. He is your good friend. You share a home with him.)
Cocking her head to the side, she causes her hair to fall and expose her neck. Logan stifles a groan begging to escape. She studies him with an intensity that almost reminds him of the normal Daria. Her mouth twitches upward slightly, smiling at him unsurely.
"Can't you just ask her who she is?" Logan asks him as Daria picks up a journal from the floor and begins to flip through the pages. "If its not Daria and its not the Panther, then there is someone else in there."
With a huff, Victor crosses his arms. "My Russian isn't that up to par."
"What about the red head? Daria mentioned she was Russian, we could have her translate," his brother suggests, running a hand through his newly cut hair. He should have never left the damn building or left Daria alone in a laboratory with a strange scientist. Has his history taught him nothing? 'Nope, ignoring your fucking instincts-,' the Wolverine quips stonily, trying to force in ideas of how to get Sabertooth out of the picture and Daria into the woods.
"We don't know how long this will last and I don't trust any of them," Victor responds testily. "You would think her safety would be your top priority."
"It is!" Logan replies tersely, keeping an eye on Daria as she continues to flip through the pages of a notebook. "But it isn't worth leaving with her and making enemies. You don't think Fury isn't going to hunt her down the moment they realize we've left?"
"Idiots," Daria says quietly to herself, shaking her head as she continues to look through the note book.
"Daria?" Logan asks, his voice hopeful. Maybe this is just a temporary problem.
Daria glances up, her eyes are cat-like, her pupils elongated eerily, yet not taking away any of her beauty. "You two are idiots! I do not have much time before the Vampire takes control, so listen to me carefully. If I am not a Panther and I am not a Vampire, who must I be?" Her voice sounds almost hoarse, her lips forming words that don't quite fit her mouth.
"Stop with the fucking riddles," Victor says impatiently, stepping towards her. His hands tighten over her arms, having not met the Panther personally he does not trust her.
Daria shakes her head and turns to Logan with an expression that resembles pity. "It would serve you well to set him free."
'Me!' The Wolverine roars victoriously, 'She wants me!'
"Hmph," Logan responds, ignoring the Wolverine who is trying to wrestle his way to freedom. "Daria seems to keep a pretty tight leash on you."
The Panther smiles, but her smile is feral and her lips pull back with a strain to expose her shining teeth. "Without my presence Daria would have been ended centuries ago. Who do you think ingrained survival into her every decision? Hmm? Without having my voice to guide her she would not have remembered your name! Your face! Your existence!" Her chest is heaving from raising her voice. The fight disappears from her stance and her shoulders slump in defeat. "For ever a moment did you consider I want to continue to exist as well? That he wants freedom?"
Logan leans forward, close enough that she can feel his breath on her face. "If you're anything like he is, Dasha has been right to keep you locked up."
"He is stronger than you think," Daria threatens evenly.
Logan clenches his jaw as the Wolverine gloats with every ounce of energy he has, "Why don't you just send Dasha back out?"
"How little you know," she tsks at him with a teasing smile. She looks back at Victor who has tightened his grasp on her, his nails extending into her cool flesh. "I fare you luck on finding the answer you seek," she says rather pleasantly to the two brothers.
"Wait-" Victor starts to say, but Daria tears her arms away from his claws, causing his extended nails to leave deep bleeding gouges before he can retract them.
Daria's eyes flash for a moment between cat and green before completely going green. In a moment of weakness, Daria sways on her legs before crouching down on her haunches to gain her bearings. Her fingers gently rub her temples as she half whimpers.
"What happened?" she asks as Logan drops to crouch down beside her.
Logan's fingers grip her chin roughly and he jerks her up to look at him. With a sigh of relief, he sees only glittering green. Her eyes are rimmed with the red of unshed tears. Daria staggers to her feet, her genuine agility escaping her.
"She needs to rest," Victor orders Logan, as he holds her elbow gently to keep her from swaying.
Dasha shakes her head at his suggestion, "I don't want rest. I want to know what happened," she motions weakly at the room piled with debris and still smoking and sparking machines. "Did the- the Panther do this?"
Logan glares at Victor, needing someone to focus his anger on. How can he be angry with the Panther, a part of Dasha and her intricate psyche? Without asking her permission, he lifts her into his arms. She leans her head against his shoulder, her fingers clinging to the material of his shirt.
As Logan moves toward the elevator doors, Dasha grips his hair and tugs on it sharply to get his attention. "We are not leaving this room until you both explain to me what has happened here. In detail."
Victor smirks at Logan as Dasha's attention is focused elsewhere. "You don't remember anything?" Logan asks her as he sets her gently onto her feet.
"Flashes of the-" Dasha begins, her brow furrowing as she struggles to recall the few glimpses of what occurred. "My other half, the Panther, speaking to you?" She glances sharply at Victor. "I can recall you mentioning a riddle."
"Dasha," Logan says calmly, his warm hands moving to cup her face and force her to focus. "The Panther didn't cause this. You weren't yourself…"
Dasha leans her head into his hand. "Of course it was the Panther. Who else could it be?" The Panther yowls in pain as Daria speaks aloud to Logan. 'Stop this nonsense! You believe your own lies now!'
"Daria," Victor cuts in sternly, unwilling to soften the situation for her. He can tell she is mentally exhausted by the way her calves tremble slightly when she speaks or breathes. "Tell us who she is."
She shudders at Victor's piercing gaze and turns her head into Logan's chest, her hands gripping the white material of his wife beater until her knuckles contrast with her already pale skin. He lifts her easily into his arms much to his brother's disapproval. Without a second glance at the demolished room, he presses the button to the elevator and steps in, Victor close on his heels. Logan glances down and is startled to find Daria fast asleep, her mouth slightly open.
"This is going to continue until she faces it," Victor warns him, his nail etching a smiling face into the wall of Stark's elevator. "Stop treating her like a damn child and force her to confront it!" he whispers harshly.
Logan chokes back a snarl as he watches Dasha with stark amazement. "Maybe you should fucking leave then if you don't like the way I am handling this. No one is asking you to stay."
Victor chuckles. "I don't recall anyone asking you to stay either, runt."
The elevator doors open and give Logan reason to hold back his response. Banner and Stark are walking toward them, the blonde bean pole no where in sight. Victor instinctively scans the floor for the scent and sound of others. Nothing.
"Thanks for not bringing back up," Logan grudgingly says to Stark who is smirking at him. "I'm sure you guys wouldn't have wanted to create a cover-up for multiple homicides."
Banner eyes Daria who is sleeping in his arms. "I didn't know she would react like that. Do you need me to check her over?"
"I'm pretty sure you've done enough, bub," Logan replies, the threat and distrust evident in his response.
Logan walks away from the scientists without glancing back, instinctively heading for their lavish guest prison when he would rather be anywhere else - almost. He opens the door and nearly smirks as he hears Victor's comment accompanying the sound of another tumbler being filled with scotch.
"Gee, sorry about your lab," his half brother taunts, "Hope you didn't have anything too important in there."
Not waiting to pay attention to the response, Logan nudges the door shut behind him with his boot. He lies Dasha on the bed, having to pry her fingers off of his shirt, tearing it in the process. The stench of Banner's clothing on her is setting the Wolverine on edge. Without a second thought, he begins to peel the pants off, moving onto pulling the sweatshirt off the dead weight of her body. Logan leans in to smell again, even her lace underclothing reeks of him. He pops a claw and snips the front of her bra, willing to buy her another one if he has to. The panties follow. She still smells of him.
With a low growl, Logan rolls the offensive clothing into a ball and tosses it out the door, careful to lock the knob behind him. He moves back to the bed, sitting on the edge to pull off his boots. Lying naked in front of him and smelling like the scientist, the Wolverine is pacing back and forth in Logan's mind, begging for just a few minutes with her. As Logan debates, the Wolverine slips forward, taking the wheel.
Wolverine moves onto the bed, on his hands and knees. His body shadows over hers as he studies her face, unhindered by the human's consciousness that is always in the way. His mate is more beautiful than Logan's mind allows him to see. Leaning in more, he wrinkles his nose at her scent being masked by the scientist's. He could lean down and mark her right now… 'No!' The human bellows, 'She isn't ready-' The Wolverine feels the human trying to gain control, but he shoves him back with an Alpha dominance that the human submits to.
Back to looking at his mate, Logan leans down and lifts a spiraled curl, feeling its coarse silkiness against his own roughened hands. She doesn't stir. His fingers trace her cool skin. He leans in toward her neck, but rather than opening his mouth to bite down, he turns his head to the side and rubs his face in the crook between her head and shoulder. The human calms down slightly, although still muttering under his breath.
The Wolverine can already smell his own scent masking the scientist's. Scenting her is stronger, more effective than rinsing with water and chemical soaps. The now neatly trimmed facial hair moves down her neck and shoulder toward the other side as his body causes the bed to dip beneath its weight. He rubs across her neck, her face, her arms, gently allowing his hair to brush over her body. His nose runs along her arms, her hands, moving to rest his cheek against one of her full breasts. What he wouldn't give for his mate to be awake so he could fully enjoy her body, pleasure her like the human can't. His lips are begging to taste her.
Continuing to scent her, the Wolverine works his way down the length of her body. He forces his way past the downy patch that he plans to spend more time accommodating in the future and down her legs. His nose running the course and plains of her body again, he is satisfied that she smells like him, and only him.
Internally knowing that it is late in the evening, Wolverine strips down until he is bare. He settles beside her, his arm lying across her middle, fingers tracing her coolness. One day, he will build her a home. No bed to lie in, just a nest of furs that will encompass them, maybe a fireplace for warmth. He lies his head on the sterile pillow, nestling his nose into her long tresses. His hand moves to lift hers, but it is stiff, dead weight. No breathing, her body is completely lifeless.
A pang hits his gut, unexpected and jolting. Lifeless, that was the word he used to describe her. His hand places hers back down gently and moves to spread across the expanse of her stomach. It is not flat, reminding him that she has carried and bared children before, even if there are no marks to show for it. The pang hits him again, stronger. She will never carry his pups, never again glow with the light of an unborn child.
The Wolverine is surprised to feel the brief touch, unison, of the human's mind connect with his thoughts. 'No children,' the human sighs in defeat. But the pull toward a mate that can't bare a pup is still unbearably strong. She is his mate, no question of doubt from the Wolverine or human. The unison thoughts is slightly dizzying, the Wolverine tries to separate himself, but loses his grip on the wheel and feels himself fall to the back of the human's psyche.
Logan blinks several times as he readjusts mentally. The first thing he notices is the overwhelming scent of himself on Daria. His nose is still nestled in her hair as she lies motionless beside him. Not knowing when she will stir, Logan pulls the folded blanket at the end of the bed up to cover himself and Dasha. Like the Wolverine, he settles and comforts himself with moving his body to touch hers as he drifts to sleep.
A/N: Okay folks, this chapter is done! Sorry it took so long, I just couldn't find a place to stop, and it lead to being longer than I expected, so that is a plus for you I suppose! I hope that the character mental changes weren't too hard to follow. I need to come up with a better system. I didn't get any reviews on the last chapter, but I did gain some new followers!. L Please review! Thanks for sticking with me!