Hello, everyone! Another week, another chapter! This one kinda ran away with me as I wrote it and if it offends anyone I am truly sorry. Be warned, worse is yet to come.

Once again, I am in my readers' debt for clicking that little button at the bottom of the page! Many thanks to - moviemom44, Comic-cake, nileena, Laudine, Sniktchick, desy, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Mrstrentreznor, alexmonalisa and pinkdrama! You're the greatest, guys!

And as the drama deepens, it's time to look in on Wolvie and his sidekick once more - onward, my friends!

oooXoo

25. The Ties That Bind

"I just can't believe it. I mean, I didn't know Mr Summers even had a brother."

Jubilee, hunkered down against the opposite wall, snorts in disgust. "Geez, this is doing my head in! I wish I had some gum."

"Thank god ya don't," I retort back. That constant popping noise would have me climbin' the walls an' I'm in a bad enough mood as it is. To temper my annoyance, I lean back against the wall an' pick up a half eaten turkey leg from the container beside me on the bed, determined to get some food inside me no matter how shitty I feel. Jubilee glowers across the cell at me an' I do my best to ignore her. Cubs oughta be seen an' not heard. They should also respect their elders, but this one seems to have her own interpretation o' that.

"You're a grumpy bastard when you've just come out of a healing coma," she tells me, frankly. "I seem to remember you getting all growly when me an' Kitty brought you a sandwich after you'd been shot."

I almost choke on a mouthful o' turkey. "Christ, Jubilee, ya almost did me a permanent damage that night. What did ya expect?"

"A little bit of gratitude would have been nice."

I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't try to kill you, did I?"

"No ….. but ….."

"Well then. Be grateful fer that. Others have suffered worse fates fer less."

Jubilee snorts defiantly an' turns away, glarin' out o' the cell door, her face gradually softening as she remembers the kid across the hall. Twenty minutes have passed since the guards showed up, puttin' an end to our conversation as I expected they would by brandishing pulse rifles an' threatening to use 'em unless me an' Jubes moved away from the cell door. We were happy to oblige, raising our hands to show that we weren't gonna cause any trouble, an' the guards covered our cell while two guys I hadn't seen before – probably the kid's personal handlers - went into his cell an' dragged him off. I've been hoping that he hasn't been taken away to be punished for talking to us. He didn't have time to say much, an' I've figured out the rest for myself since the guards left anyway but, knowing Roberts an' his profound lack o' mercy, the kid's probably suffering right now for those few short moments o' contact.

"So how did you know?"

Jubilee's voice jolts me back to the present. "Know what, darlin'?"

"That Scott had a brother?"

"Jean told me." I sigh softly, lettin' my mind wander back to that day under the maple tree in the Japanese garden. I'd taken my katana there to practise the forms in peace an' solitude. Somehow Jean found out an' came to watch an' aroused by her nearby scent I ended up flirtin' with her. Nothin' serious, o' course. I'd do it more to wind Scooter up than for any honest chance o' gettin' into her pants an' I enjoyed the challenge. People often forget that stalkin' a worthy female is part of a feral's nature – challenging a rival Alpha even more so. It's what we do – what I do. I can no more change how I act than a leopard can change its spots.

Anyway, Jean seemed to sense my intent and, as she was want to do whenever I tried to steal a kiss, she proceeded to tell me how much she loved Scott an' extol his virtues, an idea I found laughable an' told her so. Usually Jean would back off at this point with a gentle smile an' an admonition to quit riding her fiancé, but somehow we ended up sitting on a bench under the Japanese maple, me wearing nothing but a pair o' shorts an' with a shining katana restin' easily across my knees, an' Jean's eyes glowin' with pride an' love as she told me all about her hopes an' plans for the future. I learned more about the X-Men's Alpha pair in one afternoon than I'd learned in every single day o' my time at the mansion up to that point. It was the first time I'd ever paid attention to her as a person an' not as simply a woman I wanted to steal a night o' passion with, an' her honesty an' vision took me by surprise.

That very night, Marie came to my bed an' tried to seduce me …..

My thoughts now take a dramatic turn an' begin to follow the near disastrous turn of events that shaped the genesis of my soon-to-be relationship with Marie. I am visited by a profound sense o' longing as I recall our first coupling out by the lake following our heartrending declaration o' love for each other an' I heave a ragged sigh, suddenly becomin' aware that Jubilee is watchin' me an' still waitin' for an answer to her question. I clear my throat roughly an' try to pretend I have been distracted by a piece o' meat caught between my teeth. Christ, am I doomed to spend the rest o' my captive life being haunted by memories o' my mate? Will every thought remind me o' her?

"Yeah, Jean told me all about him," I repeat, tryin' to act casual an' suspecting that I am failing miserably.

To her credit, Jubilee pretends not to notice that anything is amiss. "So what happened?" she asks. "Why isn't Alex at the school with Mr Summers?"

I cast my mind back to Jean's words. "Apparently there was a 'plane crash when Scooter an' his brother were kids," I explain. "The boys survived, but their parents were killed an' Scott an' his brother were put into care. Somewhere along the line, they were separated an' they lost contact. An' then Scott's powers manifested an' he ended up at Xavier's an' I guess findin' his brother took a back seat to suddenly becoming public enemy number one practically overnight."

It's a sad fact that mutants are not universally held in high regard. Most, like myself, look human enough to blend in. Some, like the Beast an' Nightcrawler, have physical mutations that they can't hide, and are hounded from one place to another, never forming attachments an' always watchin' their backs. The lucky ones end up at Xavier's, where they are given the chance to use their 'gifts' for the good of mankind – not that some humans deserve the honour. Those not so fortunate end up livin' in an alley, tryin' to eke a livin' from bins an' handouts. If they're really lucky they'll die before unscrupulous organisations like the Weapon X project get their hands on 'em. This may sound harsh, but I've been there an' believe me I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Like I've said before, if there's even the slightest chance that me an' Jubilee won't make it outta here alive, I'll do her myself, quick an' painless. Sooner or later, they're gonna figure out a use for her an' there's no way I'm gonna let her go through that kinda hell for the rest of her life.

The cub in question is still thinking over my final words, her brow creased into a frown. "So Roberts was using Alex to blackmail Mr Summers into giving you up," she finally speculates.

"I guess so."

"How does that make you feel?"

The question surprises me, but I answer her honestly. "Like I wanna kill someone."

"Mr Summers?"

"No." I shake my head in the negative. "Scooter may be a prick, but no man deserves to have his family used against him. It's a low blow, an' it ain't right."

Jubilee nods slowly in understanding. "So who then?"

I can't hold back the growl that forms on my lips. "Everybody," I snarl. "I'll take out the whole god-damn outfit if I can."

The cub considers this for a moment an' inclines her head. "I'll help," she declares, solemnly.

I don't argue. The kid has earned her right for blood. I doubt I could stop her if I tried, an' with that our pact is sealed.

I toss the remains o' the turkey leg into the container an' begin reaching for another, but pause mid-action, an' idea beginning to form in my head. Pickin' up the stripped bone once more, I begin to worry at it with my teeth …..

oooOOOooo

My handler comes for me in the middle o' the night. God knows when these people sleep – they seem to take a perverse delight in makin' sure I don't. He is accompanied by familiar cohorts Kelly an' DaCosta, an' a guy I haven't seen before, who seems to find the whole situation highly amusing, if his foolish grin is anything to go by. I get the uncomfortable impression that he knows something I don't, an' I am immediately on my guard, although I do my best not to telegraph this. If something's gonna happen, it's best to let 'em think they've got me on the hop.

Jubilee sits up on the bed an' watches silently as Frost readies my dose of aH-serum, while Kelly covers us both half-heartedly with his pulse rifle. I smile inwardly to myself, recognising the classic signs of a complacent guard. The more I can lull 'em all into a false sense o' security, the easier it will be for me an' Jubes to make our move when the time comes.

I'm feelin' peevish at being roused from my sleep an' I growl as Frost presses the hypo to my neck, sendin' its contents coursing into my blood-stream. DaCosta tells me to 'quit it' with a flick of his rifle – you should be grateful we're savin' your life, he tells me. I could point out that my life wouldn't need savin' if they hadn't injected me with the C-serum in the first place, but why bother? The sooner they're finished, the sooner I can return to my sleep.

I expect 'em to leave when Frost has finished packin' away the hypo, but instead he produces the remote which magnetises my cuffs. My suspicions duly go up a notch.

"We going somewhere?" I growl in a low but menacing voice.

Frost looks as though he doesn't know whether he should be pleased with the information he has to impart or not. "Your kill has been confirmed, Wolverine," he tells me, slowly. "Roberts promised you a reward if you were successful in your mission – he intends to fulfil that promise."

"What kind o' reward?" I ask, as my cuffs click together in front o' me. Call me paranoid if you will, but Roberts don't exactly strike me as the kinda guy to shower his captives with gifts.

The new guy laughs, a little too loudly. "Oh, you're gonna love this, feral," he tells me, an' winks obscenely at Jubilee. She sticks a finger up at him an' I pull back my lips an' show him my teeth. Something about this guy rubs me up the wrong way – makes me wanna spring for him an' rip his throat out.

I'll put it on my to-do list.

Frost tosses the new guy a look that momentarily wipes the silly grin off his face. "Quit riling him, Farrell, or I'll let you find out first hand what an ornery bastard a feral can be when he's pissed at you. Remember Lewis?"

I remember Lewis well. His ear went down a treat. Coulda done with a beer chaser though.

Farrell nods slowly, an' me an' Jubilee exchange glances. As Frost turns back to us, he removes a blindfold from his pocket. "Now I'm going to put this on you, Wolverine, and ….."

My snarl sends him rocking back a step, where he gulps audibly. "Well ….. er ….. um ….. Jubilee is gonna put this on you, Wolverine, and then we'll get going."

He hands the blindfold to the cub an' I stand still as she fastens it over my eyes, allowing a soft purr to voice my approval o' this. Frost may be the good guy, but that don't mean I gotta roll over an' have my ears fondled every time he enters the damn cell.

"Where are we going?" I ask, as Jubilee squeezes my shoulder to tell me she's done. "I don't want the cub to be left alone."

"She won't be alone."

I tilt my head in the direction of the newcomer, recognising the voice instantly. Victor ….. The bed creaks as Jubilee gets off it an' I follow her footsteps across the cell as she goes to stand by his side. I hear her gentle word of greeting ….. an' then a sound that tenses my shoulders an' brings a snarl to my lips – the sound of a kiss being pressed to the top of her head.

What the fuck is going on …..?

"Victor …." I growl an' shoulder my way forward, instantly meeting resistance in the form of Kelly an' DaCosta. The barrel o' Kelly's pulse rifle being poked in my chest should have brought me to my senses, but all I can think about is reachin' my brother an' kickin' the shit outta him.

"Wolvie! Wolvie, it's okay!" The cub's soft hands on my face jolt me out of my rage an' I tilt my head downwards to where I know she is standin'. "What the hell's going on?" I growl, roughly.

"S'okay, Wolvie, it's just Victor's way of saying hello. He didn't mean anything by it." The cub sounds sincere, but I can't help thinkin' that I'm missing something. Since when did the firecracker allow bucks to slobber all over her?

"Calm down, Jimmy, ya wouldn't wanna blow a fuse before your big outing now, would ya?" I hear a rustle o' clothing as Victor leans back against the wall, no doubt foldin' his arms in that Alpha macho pose o' his, an' I scowl in that general direction.

"Victor, if you hurt her, so help me, I'll ….."

"I'm not gonna hurt the kid, Jimmy. Christ, the way you're acting anyone would think I was the bad guy, or something. Ain't ya ever kissed a woman in greeting before, Jimmy?"

I'm about to hurl back a response, but shut my mouth with a click o' my teeth when I realise he's got me cornered. I've kissed plenty o' women – sometimes in innocence an' sometimes not – but something's going on here an' I can't quite put my finger on it.

I growl in frustration an' downright meanness.

"Come on, Wolverine, we gotta get you moving." Frost puts his hand on my arm an' I allow him to lead me from the cell. At the door, I balk an' turn back.

"One hair on her head, Creed," I growl in warning. "That's all it takes."

Victor snorts in response. I wanna say more, but a rifle barrel in the small o' my back prompts me to move. The sound o' the cell door closin' behind me rings with a stark finality in my ears, an' I startle when Frost's voice invades my personal rage.

"She'll be okay with Victor, Wolverine. I don't think he means her any harm. She seems to be good for him – he seems ….. quieter when he's with her."

Now where have I heard that before? Concern for the cub's welfare clouds my judgement – I ain't thinkin' clearly an' I almost trip over my own feet as we head for the elevator at the end of the hallway. Frost's quick thinkin' and a grab for my arm saves me from pitchin' forward an' landin' on my face.

As before I am guided by Kelly an' DaCosta, with Frost in front an' Farrell bringin' up the rear. Our ride in the elevator is relatively short – we only seem to go up a single level before abandoning its sterile closeness for a hallway that sounds exactly like the one we just left. We stop about a third of the way down an' I hear the sound of a door being unlocked.

Am I being moved? I dismiss this thought almost as soon as it occurs to me. Frost would have told me if me an' the cub were being separated, I'm sure of it. He seems a decent sort an' not inclined to withhold information as long as it don't jeopardise his standing with Roberts. But it's obvious we're still in the cell block. What's going on?

My handler removes the blindfold an' I get the first glimpse o' my surroundings. I'm standin' in the open doorway of a cell that is virtually identical to my own, apart from the addition of a worn tree stump positioned in one corner. It looks as though something akin to a tiger has been scratchin' at it. I turn to the men behind me with confusion in my eyes, only to find Farrell grinning at me like a loon.

He makes a lewd gesture with his hips an' one hand, laughing in my face. "Give 'er one for me, feral."

"What the hell …..?" I try to push back outta the doorway, but my cuffs de-magnetise an' a sharp shove to my shoulder blades sends me sprawling into the cell. The door slams shut behind me with a finality that is as disturbing as it is decisive.

Farrell salutes me through the bars, then he an' the others take their leave, Frost givin' me a last lingerin' look before followin' along behind. His expression seems almost apologetic an' the hackles rise on the back o' my neck as I am left alone.

Alone …..

Or am I?

A soft whimper draws my attention to the rear o' the cell. I get to my feet slowly, shifting position slightly so that I can see into the far corner o' the room.

An' that's when I see the girl …..

She's crammed into the tiny space between the toilet an' the wall, knees drawn up an' her arms wrapped around them, tightly. There isn't much room for manoeuvring, but somehow she forces herself further back when she realises her hiding place has been compromised.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpers.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'. I sink slowly back down to the floor, restin' on my haunches an' tryin' to appear as non-threatening as possible. "I'll just sit here, see? I'm not gonna hurt you."

The girl watches me warily over the tops of her knees an' I can see that she's young – not more'n seventeen or so. She's naked – her knees coverin' her modesty as well as givin' her something to hide behind. An' she's also feral, if the hair crests an' sharply pointed ears are anything to go by. My own evolutionary line stems from the canine – wolves an' the like. Hers obviously has feline connections – the eyes that are watchin' me so intently are slitted like a cats an' they reflect the cell's half-light when she moves slightly.

"What's your name?" I ask. The words are soft, but she flinches as though expectin' a blow an' I catch a fleetin' glimpse of a purple bruise marring one side of her face. No healin' factor then. She's probably a class one or two, unless I miss my guess. Class two, if she possesses the enhanced senses. She's certainly got the talons. I can see 'em now, restin' against the side of her leg, sharp an' deadly. I understand now the reason for the tree stump – if her mutation is feline in origin, she will need to exercise those talons regularly.

I briefly wonder how many times those talons have been exercised in the flesh of her handlers. Probably the reason why she's got the bruise in the first place, although it looks as though she's had all the fight knocked outta her now. Poor kid. If it weren't for me, this would probably be Jubilee's fate.

The fact that she's naked bothers me an' makes me wonder if she's being kept here solely for the guards' jollies. An' then I curse my own lack o' insight as the truth hits me …..

Farrell's lewd insinuations … Frost's apologetic glance …

They want me to fuck her.

A fierce growl escapes my lips at the realisation that the kid is being kept as a breeder, a sound which I quickly cut off as she whimpers in fear an' tries to force herself further back into her hidey-hole. Damn it! I quickly put out a hand, tryin' to make amends for frightening her.

"Hey hey, it's okay. I wasn't growlin' at you. I'm ….. I'm just mad at what's been done to ya, that's all."

The kid uncovers her face slowly, her eyes scared. "You're not going to hurt me?"

"No, I'm not," I reply, decisively. "In fact, I'm gonna stay right here an' go to sleep. I'm tired." I begin to slide slowly down to the floor, leavin' a space between myself an' the bed in case she wants to creep to it in the night. To be honest, I don't think she's been using it – there's a bundled up blanket in the corner which I think she's been nestlin' into in the hope o' makin' herself as unnoticeable as possible. Fuckin' bastards! Is there nothing Roberts won't stoop to in his hatred for mutant kind? Has this kid already paid the ultimate price for his insanity?

I'm so angry I could howl an' smash something, but I have to stay calm if I'm to convince the kid I'm no threat to her. My inner beast, lurkin' just below the surface o' my psyche – as he has been doing, ever since I got here – is exhibiting his usual possessive nature when faced with a helpless cub. He wants to gather her close an' lick an' soothe her, but I daren't move in case I scare her. Being subjected to a possessive feral is the last thing she needs right now. Instead, I allow a bass rumble to vibrate deep in my chest – what Marie calls my purr. As a feral – an' especially one o' the feline descent – she should find the sound soothin', invoking memories o' being safe in her mother's womb.

The floor is cold, but my frequent nights o' broken sleep on account o' my handlers, coming on top o' my recent brush with death, takes its toll an' I begin to drift off, despite my best efforts to keep my eyes on the cub, lulled by my own feral purr. I am vaguely aware o' the cub studying me intently – she is still wary but her eyes are beginning to lose the light of fear.

I am almost asleep when I feel her tiny body tuck up against my back. I resist the urge to roll over an' gather her to me in favour of lettin' her dictate the pace o' this encounter. I want her to perceive me as someone she can trust an' feel safe with. I am honestly surprised she has come to me at all. Now that she's close an' within the range o' my suppressant dulled senses, I can smell the scent o' man on her. The kid has been raped recently – probably more than once – an' once again my ire is raised. She's barely seventeen, fer Chrissakes! What kind of bastard condones the rape of a helpless kid?

It sickens me that I know the answer. Roberts. How many other kids has he got locked up in this place? How much misery an' suffering is being inflicted on 'em every single day? An' for what purpose?

Oh Christ … The baby … I remember hearin' a baby cry when I was taken out on my mission. Roberts is running a god-damn breedin' farm here. He's playing god an' tryin' to create life in his own image. An' he wants to use me an' this kid to produce that life.

Right there an' then I make myself a promise. Nobody is using me as a fuckin' baby makin' machine. An' when me an' Jubes break outta here, this cub is coming with us. Along with anyone else who's being held here against their will.

Xavier's will think Christmas has come early.

I keep as still as possible as the kid presses against my back, lettin' my purr vibrate through my body, knowin' she can feel it. There are things I want to say – to ask – but I gotta take this slow. I gotta let the kid call the shots.

"You're feral?" Her voice is timid, barely more than a whisper against my neck.

I nod slowly. "Yeah."

"Wolf?"

Another nod.

She falls silent, probably wonderin' how it is that a canine an' a feline can rest together so amicably. In our completely feral states, we'd probably be tryin' to tear each other to pieces, but our human side counteracts these instincts, keepin' us calm an' hospitable. Our human ability to form alliances is one o' the stronger aspects o' this unusual an' often violent spilt personality we are blessed with as ferals.

"My name's Logan," I offer into the silence, hoping she will reciprocate. Among ferals, sharing your name is the ultimate sign of trust. A name is power. It means acceptance. Companionship. Pack.

She is silent a long time an' I begin to wonder if she has fallen asleep. I have all but resigned myself to simply being a rock she can cling to in her time of need when I feel her stir against my back.

Her little hands go into my hair an' she begins to massage my scalp. Grooming me ….. submitting to me.

"They call me Tirzah," she whispers, softly.

My heart soars in response. This little female – unknown to me, yet beaten an' raped by men we both hold as enemies – has accepted me as her pack leader ….. her Alpha. She has knowingly an' willingly put herself under my protection. Whether this is a misplaced notion or not, only time will tell, yet I will do all I can to honour her trust in me. As an unmated Alpha, I would now be obligated to mate with her, thus sealing our newfound kinship. The lengthy silence before she told me her name suggests that she suspected this, yet was still willing to place herself in my hands if it meant she would be protected. However, as a bonded male, I have no intention of mating with this female or any other. I will sow my seed with only one female for the rest of my days. My lifemate owns me now.

The kid is tremblin'. She won't know I am bonded an' is obviously waitin' for me to take her. After being raped so many times, I am honestly surprised that she has submitted to me so readily, but maybe it's all she knows. I have no idea how long she has been here or how badly she has been treated. Does she consider me the lesser of two evils? Is sex with me preferable to being alone an' without a pack?

My inner feral growls at the implications this raises – the kid obviously realises I won't be allowed to remain in her cell indefinitely, yet to be so desperate for companionship to consider forming even the most tentative of attachments betrays her insecurity. I can't protect her every step o' the way ….. but I can assure her o' my intentions.

I roll over slowly until I am facing her. The cub's eyes are wide with fear an' she bites her lip nervously, givin' me a brief glimpse of a sharply pointed canine. Knowledge o' the feral way an' what she is offerin' makes her body tremble against mine, yet she still manages to take my cuffed hand an' place it on her hip – a hip which bears the bruise of a previous grip, I notice with a barely repressed snarl.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin', I assure her with as much tenderness as my feral induced rage will allow. "I'm bonded."

"You have a mate?" Her eyes, which she had lowered in submission, now come up to fix onto mine, hope flaring within their amber depths. "You're not going to ….?"

"No, I'm not," I interrupt quickly. I feel strangely reluctant to hear the words from her mouth, as if this will only serve to bring my own fears to the surface. "You're pack now," I emphasis. "I don't abuse my pack."

My pack. Christ, what a concept. I've gone from being a virtual loner to being the head of a pack o' two in the space of a week. An' both female, to boot. Anyone would think I was startin' a harem, for Chrissakes! Add to this the head-turnin' looks o' my Alpha female an' I'll have a pack any feral within a hundred miles would gladly fight me for.

Let 'em try, I say. My pack may be small, but they've got balls. An' their Alpha is the meanest mother-fucker around.

Allowin' my purr to go up a notch in an action meant to soothe an' calm, I take my hand away from the cub's hip an' bring her own up to my nose where I inhale her scent, imprinting it on my memory. This close, I can see other bruises on her tiny body, along with other more unspeakable marks. There are teeth marks on her left breast – marks which look suspiciously feral …

I'm beginning to get an idea o' the kind o' rewards Roberts offers Victor for his services ….. Jubilee had better be unharmed when I get back, or so help me …..

I push the thought from my mind. Tirzah needs all my attention at this time.

"Do you wanna talk?" I ask my new cub gently, wonderin' if I'll be able to curb my anger if she voices my suspicions.

But she shakes her head. "No."

That simple yet honestly spoken word conveys more to me than if she'd told me everything. I know now that she's suffered unspeakable horrors – horrors too terrible to voice even to her Alpha, an' I make a silent vow to make amends for everything that Roberts an' his fuckin' men have put her through. One o' these days, someone is gonna teach men like Roberts a valuable lesson. Teach 'em that it's not okay to cage mutants like animals an' rape helpless kids.

I hope to god it's me …..

NEXT: Wolverine unwillingly contributes to the gene pool.