Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or anything else.
A Fallen Friend
Logan was at the mansion doing nothing but watching TV with a beer in his hand. He was bored that was true but it was better to be bored than to be fighting, well maybe not. He loved to fight because it made him feel more alive than at any other time. Once in a while though he liked to have peace and though he was bored he was glad for the peace and quiet.
Wolverine wasn't happy about the call that he had received from Storm only a day before. The call had come just as Wolverine had walked back into the house after being outside hunting. He had been in some serious need of hunting and just to be out in the woods that he would always feel that were a part of him.
Wolverine sat in his favorite chair and brooded then as the conversation came back to him. He knew that he wasn't bored anymore and he wished that he was still bored rather than think about what the call had been about. The phone had rang and he had picked it up still without his shirt on since it was covered in sweat.
"Yeah Xavier residence," he had said into the phone gruffly as he always did.
"Wolverine is that you," Logan heard a voice say which he immediately recognized as Storm.
"Yeah it's me 'Ro," Logan replied.
"Logan I have some bad news and I am so glad that you are there at the mansion so that I didn't have to leave it on the machine," Storm said in a rush.
"Whoa there 'Ro, what's up," Logan asked a bit concerned with her. He didn't know what the deal was since she had left with her own group in search of the notebooks. He wondered it they had found them.
"Where is everyone Logan I hope that they are there," Storm said with a note of sadness to her voice that Logan picked up on right away. He knew her too well not to recognize the sadness.
"No 'Ro they aren't here. They are all off on a vacation and I was elected to look after the school. They are supposed to be back within about two days though," Logan answered Storm honestly figuring it wouldn't do to lie to her and say that they were there.
"Oh Logan," Storm cried into the phone with true anguish in her voice.
"Just tell me Storm what happened," Logan said hoping to get her to tell him what the deal was. He really wanted to know because he was starting to wonder about her.
"Logan we are sending a friend back home," Storm said sadly and he could tell that she was almost in tears. He didn't know why though and it puzzled him.
"Well good it will give me someone to talk to until the rest of you get back as well. The others will be back but until they get back I am bored," Logan said trying to lighten the mood.
"No Logan she isn't coming home like that," Storm began and he heard her crying on the other end of the phone. "She is coming home for the last time. Logan Psylocke is dead."
At those words Wolverine's heart nearly stopped beating. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Psylocke couldn't be dead. She was too good of a fighter for that to happen. She was a part of the X-Men and they didn't die. Storm had to be mistaken he thought. Psylocke was too beautiful and too full of life to be dead. He wouldn't believe it until he saw her body.
"Logan," Storm asked worried about him. She didn't know what he was thinking but she knew that he was in pain. There could be no other reason for his silence.
"I am here Storm. Just tell me when she is to arrive for her last time. I want to give her the welcome that she deserves," Logan said in a dead hollow voice. Storm had never heard that voice from him before and she knew that Psylocke's death had hurt him more than anyone would ever know.
"She is to arrive tomarrow at noon," Storm said and as soon as the words were out of her mouth she heard a click. Logan had hung the phone up on her.
* * * * *
Logan shook his head to clear it of the conversation and looked over at the clock on the mantelpiece. It read 11:45 so he stood up and went upstairs. Logan walked slowly and his paces held a dread as he went to his room and pulled out a good set of his cloths.
He felt that he owed it to Psylocke to at least look decent when she arrived though he didn't know if she would even know that he had dressed up for her. He went back downstairs and he went to the door. As he opened the door he saw a black hearse drive up the driveway and park in front of the mansion. He knew who was in the hearse and yet to him it felt almost unreal.
Psylocke shouldn't be dead. If anyone in the X-Men should have been dead it should have been him. Logan closed his eyes for a moment and just remembered. He remembered the way she looked as she practiced, the way her body moved. He remembered the way she smiled and laughed. The way that she looked over her shoulder and the love that she had for everyone in the group. He remembered every little detail about her and he committed it to memory so that she would never be forgotten. Not for as long as he lived which seemed to be a very long time.
Logan walked out to the hearse as the men got out of the car wearing black suits. They walked up to Logan and the first man said, "We are sorry for your loss sir. WE have brought her home though."
"Yeah let's get her inside," Logan replied gruffly trying to keep his grief at bay. He wouldn't let it overcome him. He would succeed in this, he wouldn't shame her that way. Not in front of men he didn't even know.
"Yes if that is what you want," said the second man in sympathy which Logan didn't need at the moment.
"Just open the back ok," Logan nearly growled at the men.
They walked to the back of the hearse and opened the door. Inside Logan saw a coffin and inside that coffin he knew that his friend would be laying there. She would be as if she was sleeping and indeed she was. She was enduring the eternal sleep and Logan missed her already.
The men reached in and grabbed the railing and pulled the coffin out partway. Logan moved up and grabbed the other end of it and lifted it. I don't' remember you being so light darlin' Logan thought as they carried her inside. The two men put down their end on the pedestal that Logan had erected in the living room of the house. It was the only place he could put one up in time. He felt that she needed to have someplace familiar to rest while they waited for everyone to appear so that they could all give her their own farewells in their own way.
"Thank you," Logan said as he pulled up a chair and sat down next to the coffin.
The men just bowed to Logan's back and let themselves out. He thought that was good because in the mood that he was in he could really use someone to vent his anger on. To vent his helplessness on. He looked around at the room. He saw the sofa where she had sat so many times before with the rest of the team around her or by herself. He saw the TV set where they watched shows and he saw the chair where she had sat in with Warren. He saw images that he knew he had never seen in his life and yet he saw them as vividly as if he was there in person. He saw her kissing Warren and doing other things that two people didn't need a show for. He almost felt the way that she felt at those times. The joy that she felt and the love. Now all that was taken away from her at such a young age and Logan knew that the world had lost a great hero. What's more though is that the world lost a great person. A woman who was beautiful on the inside and on the out. A woman who still had so much love to give and receive.
Logan didn't know what was happening but he saw Betsy as a child which he had never seen in his life and he saw other important events in her life that he knew he hadn't been there for. Logan decided that he would have to talk to the professor about it or Jean. After all the professor was starting to act different and Logan didn't like it.
"Well Betsy you're home now darlin'. I hope that means something to ya," Logan said as he placed his hand on the front half of the coffin. He put his head down and placed his forehead on the coffin. "I'll miss ya darlin'," Logan whispered.
While he head was close to the coffin he sniffed out of habit when he had a feeling that something wasn't right. He had that feeling now and he didn't smell anything. That wasn't unusual except that he should have smelled Betsy one way or another. He should have been able to pick up on the smell of death but he didn't. If not that then he should have been able to pick up on the smell of embalming liquid which he didn't smell either.
"What's up with this," Logan wondered to himself as he looked closely at the coffin.
What he saw made his blood start to boil. He saw that the top half of the coffin looked as if it had been opened. The seal was broken he could tell that much and the coffin wouldn't be air tight then. He looked even closer and examined the top half. The more he looked the more he saw. He saw that it looked like it had been forced open by perhaps a pry bar or something else but whoever had done it had been very good so as not to break the wood of the coffin.
Logan reached down and pulled on the top half of the coffin but it didn't open. It was as if someone opened it and then resealed it quickly so that no one would have known that it was opened. He was starting to get mad now and he popped a claw on one of his hands, skint.
"Sorry darlin' but I have to know," Logan said as he placed his claw on the seal and ran it along the length of the top half of the coffin. As he got to the end the top half lifted slightly and he retracted his claw as he pulled up on the lid. What he saw inside nearly made his heart stop.
Inside the coffin there was no Betsy. There was nothing but a note sitting on the satin pillow where Betsy's beautiful head should have laid for eternity. Where her head should have been cradled gently. Where Logan wished he could have taken her place.
Logan growled more like an animal than any sound a human should have been able to make. He reached down slowly and picked up the note. He opened it and read it aloud to himself, "I can't let you bury such a good opponent. She fought honorable and as such she deserves a different honor. As that of a trophy to forever adorn my abode. She is the first and as I said before she won't be the last X-Men. Until the next one of you joins your teammate at my side as a trophy,
VARGAS"
"Vargas," Logan growled as he crumpled the note in his fist. "You think that one us will be next. I don't think so. I am going to hunt you down. You owe me a life and you owe me someone that I care for. Nothing on this world will keep you safe from me. That I can promise you Vargas."
Logan dropped the note back into the coffin and closed his eyes for a second. He didn't like to lose his temper so bad because that meant that the animal inside of him that he had fought so hard to overcome was clawing it's way back into the fore of his consciousness.
Logan knew what he had to do and so he went back into his room. He shucked his cloths and pulled on his new black X-Men uniform. As he looked at himself in the mirror though he didn't think that it looked right. He went back over to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer and pulled out his old tan and brown uniform. "This is for you Betsy," He said as he tucked it into a dufflebag. He grabbed a few other things and then headed downstairs.
He knew that he needed to leave a note for the other X-Men so that they wouldn't be worried. He quickly wrote, "I went to take care of some business in Spain. The city o Valencia. Went to see some old friends.
Logan."
Logan knew where he was going because Storm did her best to keep him informed just in case he was needed. It would have been nice had she called him so that Psylocke would still be alive. He sighed and shook his head. It wouldn't do any good to blame anyone but two people. He knew who those two people were. One was the man who called himself Vargas. The other was himself. Himself because he still felt that he should have been there.
As he started to head out the door he felt a pull. He didn't know what it was but he just felt that he should go back and get his sword. The sword that he had used as Death. The sword that he had nearly killed the X-men with. Logan always went with his instincts though and so he went back and grabbed the sword off the mantel in his room and wrapped it in a silk cloth.
"Well darlin' perhaps you are talking to me from beyond. Maybe you want me to kill him with a sword just like you would have," Logan said to the air around him.
He then went downstairs and into the hanger where they kept the other flying vehicles along with the cars and other such high tech things. Logan didn't care about most of them and so he didn't' look at most of them. He went straight to the older version of the Blackbird and hopped in. He set a course for Spain and one house in particular. He was heading for the house that belonged to Rogue, Destiny, and Mystique where he knew that his friends would be. He needed to talk to them first before he went on a killing spree that would forever change the lives of anyone who helped this Vargas.