"Move, girl. Do somethin'. Don't just stand there." Wolverine muttered as he watched the scenario unfold below him. Jean watched, ready to stop the exercise. Wolverine's hands were balled into fists as he willed Star to move.
She stared up at the Reaver, her mind whirling. "You're not real," she thought. "I saw you die!" Then his reaching hand touched her cheek and she screamed. He reached for her and she turned and ran.
"Logan,"
"Not yet, Jeannie. She's gotta face this. She can take him." Wolverine answered Jean unasked question.
"I hope you're right."
Star stumbled and fell. She immediately rolled to her feet, expecting to see the Reaver bearing down on her, but he was nowhere in sight. She took a sobbing breath.
"Logan!" she cried.
Jean could hear Wolverine grinding his teeth, but he did not answer.
"Logan, please!" Star sobbed.
Wolverine's shoulders drooped.
"All right, Jeannie..." he began when the Reaver appeared before Star. He stepped forward and slapped her, a backhanded blow. Jean reached for the control that would stop the Danger Room sequence.
Star lay on the sidewalk, stunned from the blow the Reaver had delivered. Her nose was bleeding and she touched it gingerly with one hand, looking at the blood on her fingers with amazement. Suddenly she was no longer frightened. She was angry. She scrambled away from the Reaver, glaring up at the Cyborg with undisguised fury.
"Well, now, found some spirit, did ya?" the Reaver asked, advancing toward her. "I like that in a woman. You know what else I like in a woman, don't ya," he said, hooking his thumbs suggestively in his belt.
"Jeannie.."
"I see, Logan." They would let the sequence run its course.
Without taking her eyes from the Reaver, Star sought a weapon. She'd entered the Danger Room empty handed, expected to find something during her training. Her questing hand closed on a garbage can lid, then upon what appeared to be an old mop or broom handle. She snatched them up, snarling at the Reaver as he reached for her once more.
She blocked his groping hand with the lid, slamming the handle into his knee. He staggered and she danced back out of his reach.
"C'mon, you bastard. Let's see how well you do with a target that's not helpless."
"That wasn't very nice of you, sheila. Now I'm gonna hafta punish you."
"You're welcome to try," her voice was cold.
The Reaver moved toward her and she backed away cautiously. She knew there was no chance to beat him by using her strength. He could crush the life out of her with one hand. If he ever got the hand on her. He lunged and she ducked under his reach, striking him twice with the handle, once in the belly, the second another blow to the knee.
"C'mere, bitch. I'm gonna make you pay for that." Star didn't answer. She was faster than he was, and she knew it. He threw a punch and she slammed the handle into his elbow. The metal joint didn't break, but the arm wasn't as responsive as it had been. The Reaver stopped smiling. He reached for her again and she hit him in the face with the lid. He staggered backwards and she continued her assault. He fell heavily and she pounced, pummeling him with the handle. When he had completely stopped moving, she backed away from him. She was surprised by the amount of blood on the ground. She looked down and realized that she was covered as well. She dropped the handle and the lid and stood looking at the body of the Reaver, fighting down a surge of nausea. She fell to her knees beside the body and began to sob. A door opened behind her and she whirled, expecting a new threat. It was Wolverine. She snarled at him, climbing to her feet.
"Star," he reached for her, but she slapped his hand away. "Darlin', listen to me," he stepped forward, his arms out and she punched him with all her might. He doubled over, as much in surprise as in pain.
"How could you?" she hissed. "You know what he did to me. And you know why he did it." She was crying again. "How could you?" Before Wolverine could catch his breath, she turned and ran from the Danger Room. He straightened and stumbled after her.
"Star," he gasped. "Wait!" She didn't even slow down, sprinting for the stairs at the end of the hall. She disappeared up them, panther quick, not even taking the time to slam the door behind her as many women would have done. By the time he reached the stairs, she was long gone. He hurried up the stairs after her, and ran into Jubilee.
"Wolvie? What the matter with Star?"
"I made a mistake, darlin'" he answered. "Made her face somethin' she wasn't ready for. You see where she went?"
"Yeah. She was headin' for the lake."
"Thanks, darlin'."
The sky was gray, the clouds heavy with unshed rain as Star ran from the mansion. Her throat was tight and tears blurred her vision. As if responding to her torment, the rain began to fall, gently at first, then more heavily. Her clothing was quickly soaked, but she could not return to the mansion. She slowed her headlong flight until she was walking, but she did not pause.
Wolverine moved quietly but purposefully into the woods surrounding the mansion. The rain had washed Star's scent from the air. The girl was so light footed that she scarcely left any tracks, and those were quickly washed away in the rain. He'd just have to find her the hard way.
Star walked, heedless of her surroundings, tormented by the memories of what Lady Deathstrike and the Reaver had done to her. She finally stopped when a muscle cramp in her abdomen nearly doubled her over. She sat down, with her back to the bole of a large tree and stared out over the lake, ignoring the rain that continued to fall.
Wolverine continued to search for Star. He'd found no sign of her and had begun to worry that she had left the grounds altogether. He was about to expand his search beyond the boundaries of the Xavier Estate when he caught the faintest suggestion of her scent. He turned, trying to pinpoint its origin, but it faded as quickly as it had come.
"Star!" he called, praying she would answer. "Star, where are ya, darlin'?" The forest was silent except for the sound of the rain. Then he heard her.
"Here, Logan." Her voice was flat when she answered him. He turned toward the sound and saw her, seated at the base of a large tree just a few yards away. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her crossed arms rested atop them. She was the picture of abject misery. He approached carefully and crouched beside her.
"Darlin' I'm sorry. I thought you were ready." She looked up at him and her eyes were as flat as her voice.
"You were wrong."
"I know." He seated himself next to her on the wet ground and put one hand on her arm, but she turned away from him. Sorrowfully, he withdrew his hand. After a long moment, she looked at him.
"You said you would take care of me," her voice was full of bitterness.
"That's what I'm tryin' ta do, girl."
"By making me face that ... that ... man?" her voice cracked.
"No, darlin'. By helpin' ya face yer fear. By showin' ya that you can beat it."
"Yeah, I 'beat it', didn't I? I beat it to a bloody pulp." Fresh tears ran down her cheeks.
"Ya did that."
"Will I have to ... face him ... again?" she asked.
"Not unless ya want to."
"I don't think so. I didn't like the way I felt when I ... killed him."
"Good." He put his arm around her and this time she moved into his embrace. "Sometimes killin' is necessary. But you should never enjoy it."
They sat together in the rain, watching the lake, until a deeper darkness signaled the end of the day. They rose and returned to the big house. Neither of them spoke, but the silence was no longer brittle. He hoped she had seen the necessity of what he had done. That night she slept in his arms, as she had done every night since she had been returned to him, but her sleep was still troubled.
He was awakened by the touch of the damp night air on his bare skin. He was alone in the big bed. He got up and padded across the floor to the balcony door, which was slightly ajar. He pulled the door silently open and looked out. Star was standing on the balcony, the rain streaming across her body. A flash of lightning outlined her form. She leaned on the railing and stared out into the darkness. She didn't seem to be aware of him, but when he touched her, gently caressing her arm, she turned and smiled up at him, without being startled.
"Didn't you get wet enough earlier?" he asked, drawing her into his arms, her skin slick beneath his hands, warm against his body.
"It'll be easier to dry off this time." She put her arms around his waist, grinning impishly up at him. He laughed and pulled her closer. She returned his embrace, then turned in his arms to look out over the landscape. It was brilliantly lighted by jagged bolts of lightening which threatened to split the sky with their tremendous power. She sighed.
"Its so ... wild, Logan."
"I know what ya mean, darlin'." She leaned into him, her hands over his, they stood together on the balcony, enjoying the sensation of rain and wind on their bodies.
Star was very quiet for the next several weeks, refusing to enter the Danger Room at all unless she knew the challenge in advance. Wolverine watched her with concern. She spent most of her time either in Beast's lab or wandering through the wooded grounds surrounding the Xavier estate. Wolverine left her alone.
One morning as Wolverine was working out, the intruder alarm sounded. He quickly lowered the weight set into its cradle, and hurried to the ready room. Cyclops was already there, and had put the alarm screen up on the wall where it could be easily seen. The intruder was quite a distance from the mansion. The tiny dot was visible for only a moment, then it disappeared, and the alarms quieted.
"What was that?"
"I don't know, Wolverine. Whatever it was is gone now." Cyclops typed in several commands on the keyboard in front of him, then shook his head. "It wasn't there long enough for our sensors to get a solid reading. It appears to have been a teleport, but I don't know who."
"Right. I'll hike out there an' see what I can find. If its somebody we know, I'll be able ta tag 'em by their scent."
"I'll send Rogue to back you up." Wolverine was already moving out the door.
He went quickly to the area indicated on the map and began to cast about for any lingering scent traces of their intruder. He caught a familiar scent just as Rogue arrived.
"Ya got anything, sugah?"
"Yeah, darlin'. Our ol' pal Sinister's been here."
"Sinister? Now what the heck would he want all the way out here?"
"Don't know, darlin'. But we'd best get back to the mansion before he improves his aim."
"You want a lift?"
"Sure." Rogue reached for Wolverine, but he suddenly held up his hand.
"Hang on, Rogue." He turned slowly, obviously trying to isolate a scent. "Did Cyke send Star with you?"
"I don't think so, sugah. I ain't seen the little gal all day." Rogue tapped the communicator and spoke into it.
"Cyclops, is Star up there with y'all?" There was a moment of silence, then Cyclops voice replied.
"No, Rogue. She did not respond to the alarm."
"Maybe she's takin' a nap, or somethin'," Rogue said to Wolverine.
"Sinister took her."
"Ya can't know that for sure, sugah."
"Can't I?" Wolverine held up the book Star had taken from the Library that morning.
Star took the book off the shelf and gazed at the cover for a moment. She had read it over a dozen times already, but it was one of her favorites. "The Complete Works of Tolkien, Volume One", she read silently, then smiled. She met Wolverine in the hall.
"Care ta join me, darlin'?" he asked as they walked together down the hall toward the weight room.
"Perhaps later," she answered, indicating the book. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. He slapped her rump as she turned into the main living room, where Jubilee was watching yet another talk show. He went on to the weight room.
Star watched the talk show with Jubilee for a few minutes, then picked up her book and left the mansion, crossing the back deck with unhurried steps. She'd found that she preferred to read this particular book in solitude. She walked through the woods until she reached a small natural clearing where she sat down with her back to a tree and began to read. She'd been there for some time when she heard an odd sound from behind the tree. She turned toward the noise and something struck her in the jaw. Dazed from the blow, she looked up and saw a large man dressed in blue, wearing a red lined cape. He reached for her, lifting her effortlessly from the ground, his hand twisted in the front of her blouse. She felt the book fall from her fingers as he touched her cheek with his free hand.
"Your son has a most interesting genetic structure, but there are some difficulties. Perhaps the original template will help me correct the problem."
"What...?" she said.
"I will explain later, my dear." He smiled at her, chilling her. Then he hit her again and the world went dark.
"We will find her, Wolverine." Professor Xavier told him as he removed the helmet which allowed him full access to Cerebro.
"But you ain't found her yet." Wolverine's hand rested on the cover of the book he had found in the woods, and which he had carefully cleaned of the dirt which had smeared the pages.
"No. But her signature has always been difficult to isolate." He sighed. "It may take time, but we will find her." Wolverine made no reply, stalking from the ready room with barely suppressed fury which was only made more intense by his sense of helplessness. Star had been taken from him yet again. Would they never be granted peace?
Star awakened in a small room. She lay on a high, padded table. When she sat up, a sharp pain stabbed through her head. Gingerly, she reached up and touched her cheek. She could feel the bruise even as it began to fade. The pain dimmed, and then was gone. She swung her feet off the side of the table as the door opened and the man in blue stood framed within it. He smiled at her, and she shivered.
"I am pleased to see that your healing factor is still effective. It was with great regret that I learned you had destroyed your other abilities. You had great potential ... number thirty six!" She glared at him, and he laughed.
"Do you know who I am?" Star didn't answer, refusing to be baited by her captor. "I have been called Mr. Sinister. My specialty is genetics, which is what made the good doctor's project, and you, of such interest to me." He stepped into the room, and her eyes flicked over the open door behind him. "Don't try it, my dear. Without your powers, you wouldn't get past my people. And I do prefer to have you in an undamaged condition." She continued to watch him, waiting for an opening to present itself. "You see, I find myself in need of your cooperation." He stepped up to the table, and took her chin in his hand. She jerked her head away from his hand, leaped to her feet and dashed past him, despite his warning, toward the door. He caught her effortlessly, twisting her arm behind her and throwing her to the floor. He knelt then, pinning her with his knee. 'Sometimes,' she thought, 'having so little mass to throw around is a real disadvantage.'
"I would prefer," he said quietly, as she struggled in his grasp, "to have your cooperation. I am, however, willing to coerce you as needed." He stood and yanked her to her feet, her arm still twisted behind her. "You will do as I wish. There are more lives at stake than you know, and I can afford to wait longer than you can." He thrust her from him and she stumbled into the table. He stepped from the room and closed the door in her face.
After carefully examining every square inch of the room, and finding nothing of any use, Star sat on the floor, her back to the wall nearest the door, and waited. She was angry, frightened, and, despite herself, curious. "More lives at stake than you know," he'd said. Had he captured the other X-Men? What did he mean? And did the others even realize that she had been taken? She needed answers before she could decide what to do. She snorted. Brute force was out of the question. She drew up her knees and folded her arms across them. After a while, she dozed.
Wolverine grew more difficult to deal with as the days passed with no word of Star. Once more he tried using his own contacts to locate her, to no avail. Sinister had gone to ground completely, apparently without leaving a single clue as to his, or Star's, whereabouts. Wolverine's frustration grew greater with each new failure.
Star didn't know how long it had been since the man calling himself Sinister had locked her in this room, but it had been a long time. Several days at least. When at last he opened the door, she found herself to weak to even stand, much less attempt to escape. He stepped into the room and stood before her, his hands on his hips.
"Are you ready to cooperate?" She glared up at him, her throat too dry to risk a response. He grasped the front of her blouse and lifted her until her feet dangled well above the floor. She gasped at the sudden motion, dizzy as the blood rushed from her head. "Your healing factor will not save you from starvation, though it will extend the process, as your body consumes itself." He looked down at her and smiled his chilling smile once more. "Long before you die, however, you will lose the child you carry within you." At her startled glance, he laughed, throwing his head back and lowering her until her feet touched the floor. He released her suddenly and she slumped against the wall, one hand instinctively pressed to her belly.
"The stakes just went up, did they not? You killed your first child through an ignorance of your own abilities." He smiled again, nastily. "Would you repeat your mistake? Murder yet another innocent? Think about it," he said as he stepped back through the door. "But don't take too long. An early fetus is notoriously fragile." He closed the door and she heard the lock click into place. She sank back to the floor and fought back the tears she could not afford to shed. Wolverine had told her of their son, who had been unable to live outside her body, his incredible metabolism causing his body to be malformed beyond the ability to survive. She sobbed once, brokenly, and Sinister, watching through a camera concealed in the ceiling, smiled, knowing she would cooperate for the sake of her child.
"Two for the price of one," he said quietly, his fingers lightly touching her figure on the screen. He watched her as she fought her tears. She looked up once, and the expression of stubborn resolve was gone from her face. The expression she wore now was fear, and it made her look like a lost child. He turned and looked at the child behind him. His expression was identical to Star's.
Sinister had decided that, while Dr. Richardson's work was basically sound, he had erred in the method he had used to raise his animals. Sinister had removed the boy from the growth chamber while he was still physically an infant, and had tried to raise him as if he were a normal child. He had lavished him with attention, had seen to his every need, both physical and emotional, but the boy had not responded as he had hoped. He had never learned to speak and did not respond to the "affection" his attendants pretended to feel. Perhaps this woman, Star she called herself, would be able to reach him. She would be able to understand the boy's needs, his fears, for she had been genetically blessed with the same frantic metabolism and had grown to adulthood in a few short years. She should be able to reach the child, to teach him to control the powers which would soon begin to blossom within his rapidly maturing body. Sinister hoped she would be able to help, for the powers this child would develop were far too dangerous to be allowed to grow unchecked, and the boy would otherwise have to be destroyed. The fact that she was also his genetic mother could be of benefit as well.
He waited several hours before re-entering the room. Star looked up at him and struggled to her feet.
"What is it you want from me?" she asked him, her voice harsh, rough from the dryness of her throat. He looked at her for a moment then stepped forward and took her by the arm, ignoring how she flinched away from his touch.
"Come with me." She was far too weak to resist him as he pulled her from the room. In spite of her weakness, she took careful note of her surroundings, prepared to use the knowledge should an opportunity arise.
He jerked her to a stop in front of a long low window. It looked upon another room, where the boy sat motionless on his bunk. Star gasped, for the room was much like the cage she had grown up in.
"What...?"
"I need your help with the boy."
"My help?"
"Yes." Star shook her head.
"Why didn't you just ask?"
"I did not have time. If you cannot reach him before his powers develop, I will be forced to destroy him." Star looked at him in horror.
"He's just a child!"
"Yes, but a very dangerous child. And he will not remain a child for long." He looked at her speculatively as she continued to watch the boy, one hand raised to touch the glass.
"You have three lives to gain by helping me." She glared at him for a moment, then closed her eyes and nodded mutely.
"I thought you could be reasoned with." He took her arm once more and shoved her toward a man wearing a white lab coat. "Get her something to eat and get her cleaned up. Then bring her back here." The man nodded. "And keep an eye on her," Sinister added.
"What's his name?" Star asked suddenly. After a long moment Sinister answered.
"I've called him Matthew." Then he turned his back on her and stalked away down the hall. The man in the lab coat half led, half carried Star in the other direction. She looked back over her shoulder at the child as he sat huddled in his room.
The boy shook his head as the people moved away from the glass wall. He could not see them, but he was always able to sense their presence. His long red hair fell into his face and he brushed at it irritably, looking at his reflection with more knowledge than Sinister had given him credit for. There had been a new person today, someone he had never felt before, but who felt very familiar. She was frightened and unhappy to be here, but she also feared for him, something no one had ever felt before. They were afraid of him, yes, but never for him. He decided to wait and see what would happen, listening to her thoughts, though she was much harder to hear than Sinister or the others. Her feelings for him were genuine, not feigned. She would help if she could.