Panic
Logan stormed down the hall towards Cerebro, his claws extended and ready to rip through the wall if necessary. He knew that Charles was in there. The scent of anxiety was rolling off the man in near palpable waves, which only served to heighten Logan's panic. Never before had he sensed this kind of concern-fear-from the leader of the X-Men.
His boots made a sort of ringing noise as they pounded against the floor. The kind of ringing that footsteps in an otherwise empty room cause. That made him pause. Empty? Yes. Something told him that the place was unnaturally empty of the usual component of the team. Jean, Slim, Ro, Hank. they weren't here. He knew it in his bones. His mind shied away from who else didn't seem to be present in the mansion.
"Just a mission," he muttered to himself under his breath. "Just a goddamn mission." But he knew that his senses wouldn't be screaming at him like this if there weren't something terribly wrong.
The doors to Cerebro slid open silently, revealing Professor Xavier connected to the unit with the silver helmet. "What the hell is goin' on." Logan began before a hand shot up and silenced him with a simple gesture. Unhappy not to have immediate information, but understanding the Professor needed a moment of quiet; Logan subsided and settled on standing rigidly behind Xavier's wheelchair.
After a few moments of agonizing silence, Xavier pulled the helmet from his head and tiredly placed it back on the base. "They're almost home," he murmured softly, sounding and looking as if he'd aged a decade in the space of moments. He took a deep breath and looked at the formidable force known as Wolverine to most and Logan to a special few.
"Yes, they were on a mission, but it was supposed to be a simple training exercise," the Professor sighed, unconsciously lifting his hand and rubbing the back of his head where a psionic headache was beginning to bloom. Before he could say more, Logan cut him off.
"Supposed to be? What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he demanded harshly.
Charles gave the agitated man a long, assessing look. "It means that the team was ambushed at the training site." He took a deep breath and continued. "I have no idea how the information leaked out, but the team was overwhelmed by sheer numbers." Logan's body seemed to stiffen, as if the adamantium lacing his bones hardened even more. "None of the mutants that attacked were recognizable to the team. except for one."
The Professor waited, watching the almost visible shift as Logan became the Wolverine. "Sabertooth," he snarled, needing no confirmation. Charles simply nodded. "Bastard," Wolverine growled, flexing his fists with claws still extended. "Sonofabitch has been tryin' to draw me out for months now."
Silence reigned for long moments as Xavier let Wolverine get himself under control. It took maybe a count of thirty before he looked down at the man in the wheelchair, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who and how bad?" he managed to grind out, ready to howl at the 'wrong' answer.
Charles nodded slowly, as if only awaiting the verbalization of the question. "Scott, Jean, Ororo, Hank, Bobby, John and." he hesitated, anticipating the coming explosion from the furious man standing in front of him now, ".Rogue." Before the Wolverine could howl, Xavier continued. "All are injured, but Jean and Hank are the most serious. From what Scott tells me, Jean has nearly scorched her mind and Hank." again he paused, but unconsciously this time, ".has taken several serious wounds in trying to keep the attackers from taking Rogue."
The tension in the room suddenly became palpable, almost shimmering in intensity. Logan suppressed the animal for long enough to ask quietly, "Trying?" Silence. "Charles, where the fuck is Rogue?" The quietness of the tone was chilling.
Xavier bowed his head for a moment before lifting his eyes and meeting the anguished gaze of the man standing before him. "They don't know, Logan. Several of the team saw her go down in the fight, but no one could get through to rescue her before she was carried off. She is alive, but." he shook his head. "Something is blocking me from contacting her. She's either unconscious or drugged." He stopped, staring at a rage he'd never seen before. "Scott and the team have searched for her for almost two days with no sign."
An unearthly snarling emanated from a man who'd let the animal take over. Wolverine whirled to put this place behind him and find the one everything in him cried out for, but he was stopped before he could take a step.
"Logan," Charles murmured softly, knowing that would have more effect than a shout. "Logan, wait." He paused, giving the man a chance to slowly turn, as if he were forcing himself. "At least talk to Scott before you go. He can give you the few leads we have." In that exact instant, a low, bass rumble indicated the Blackbird was coming to rest in its hangar. "We won't let her go without a fight."
"I'm not letting her go, period," came the growled reply as Logan turned and stalked down the tunnel.
Scott was carrying Jean down to the medlab despite his own injuries when Logan intercepted him. His eyes widened behind his visor and his step momentarily faltered.
"Logan? What the hell.?" he questioned incredulously, holding Jean closer as she stirred and moaned softly in his arms.
"Tell me everything," Logan growled, his stance aggressive and angry. "Since you couldn't be bothered to bring her home, I'm going to. You fucker."
Scott's nostrils flared as his jaw visibly clenched. "Look, I know you're upset, Logan, but don't think we didn't do everything we could to find her. And we're going back, but Jean and Hank-"
Deadly silver claws were suddenly inches from Scott's jugular. "Don't give me that bullshit-" Wolverine began, but a weak motion from Jean stopped him. She opened pain-filled eyes as she reached out and put a hand on his chest.
"Logan, stop," she murmured, her voice shaking and strained. "Believe me when I say we share your fear, but starting a war with Scott here certainly won't help Rogue. We have to pull together to find her, not splinter apart." Those few words seemed to exhaust her and she slumped against Scott's chest, unconscious.
"Damnit to hell, Logan," Scott bit out, stepping back, then around the enraged Wolverine. "I want Rogue back as badly as anyone, but I'm not going to sacrifice Jean and Hank. They need medical attention, then we search." His tone brooked no argument-not that Logan cared. It was the looks of sympathy from the rest of the team standing around in tattered uniforms that held him at bay, if only for a moment. Besides, whatever issues he had with Scott, Logan knew deep down that the man cared for Rogue as if she were his sister and he wouldn't leave her behind without a serious threat forcing his hand. His claws retracted with a deadly *snikt* and he turned to follow the ragged group to the medlab. All the while, though, his mind raced with how Sabertooth would use Rogue to draw him out. None of the pictures were very pretty.
Logan stormed down the hall towards Cerebro, his claws extended and ready to rip through the wall if necessary. He knew that Charles was in there. The scent of anxiety was rolling off the man in near palpable waves, which only served to heighten Logan's panic. Never before had he sensed this kind of concern-fear-from the leader of the X-Men.
His boots made a sort of ringing noise as they pounded against the floor. The kind of ringing that footsteps in an otherwise empty room cause. That made him pause. Empty? Yes. Something told him that the place was unnaturally empty of the usual component of the team. Jean, Slim, Ro, Hank. they weren't here. He knew it in his bones. His mind shied away from who else didn't seem to be present in the mansion.
"Just a mission," he muttered to himself under his breath. "Just a goddamn mission." But he knew that his senses wouldn't be screaming at him like this if there weren't something terribly wrong.
The doors to Cerebro slid open silently, revealing Professor Xavier connected to the unit with the silver helmet. "What the hell is goin' on." Logan began before a hand shot up and silenced him with a simple gesture. Unhappy not to have immediate information, but understanding the Professor needed a moment of quiet; Logan subsided and settled on standing rigidly behind Xavier's wheelchair.
After a few moments of agonizing silence, Xavier pulled the helmet from his head and tiredly placed it back on the base. "They're almost home," he murmured softly, sounding and looking as if he'd aged a decade in the space of moments. He took a deep breath and looked at the formidable force known as Wolverine to most and Logan to a special few.
"Yes, they were on a mission, but it was supposed to be a simple training exercise," the Professor sighed, unconsciously lifting his hand and rubbing the back of his head where a psionic headache was beginning to bloom. Before he could say more, Logan cut him off.
"Supposed to be? What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he demanded harshly.
Charles gave the agitated man a long, assessing look. "It means that the team was ambushed at the training site." He took a deep breath and continued. "I have no idea how the information leaked out, but the team was overwhelmed by sheer numbers." Logan's body seemed to stiffen, as if the adamantium lacing his bones hardened even more. "None of the mutants that attacked were recognizable to the team. except for one."
The Professor waited, watching the almost visible shift as Logan became the Wolverine. "Sabertooth," he snarled, needing no confirmation. Charles simply nodded. "Bastard," Wolverine growled, flexing his fists with claws still extended. "Sonofabitch has been tryin' to draw me out for months now."
Silence reigned for long moments as Xavier let Wolverine get himself under control. It took maybe a count of thirty before he looked down at the man in the wheelchair, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who and how bad?" he managed to grind out, ready to howl at the 'wrong' answer.
Charles nodded slowly, as if only awaiting the verbalization of the question. "Scott, Jean, Ororo, Hank, Bobby, John and." he hesitated, anticipating the coming explosion from the furious man standing in front of him now, ".Rogue." Before the Wolverine could howl, Xavier continued. "All are injured, but Jean and Hank are the most serious. From what Scott tells me, Jean has nearly scorched her mind and Hank." again he paused, but unconsciously this time, ".has taken several serious wounds in trying to keep the attackers from taking Rogue."
The tension in the room suddenly became palpable, almost shimmering in intensity. Logan suppressed the animal for long enough to ask quietly, "Trying?" Silence. "Charles, where the fuck is Rogue?" The quietness of the tone was chilling.
Xavier bowed his head for a moment before lifting his eyes and meeting the anguished gaze of the man standing before him. "They don't know, Logan. Several of the team saw her go down in the fight, but no one could get through to rescue her before she was carried off. She is alive, but." he shook his head. "Something is blocking me from contacting her. She's either unconscious or drugged." He stopped, staring at a rage he'd never seen before. "Scott and the team have searched for her for almost two days with no sign."
An unearthly snarling emanated from a man who'd let the animal take over. Wolverine whirled to put this place behind him and find the one everything in him cried out for, but he was stopped before he could take a step.
"Logan," Charles murmured softly, knowing that would have more effect than a shout. "Logan, wait." He paused, giving the man a chance to slowly turn, as if he were forcing himself. "At least talk to Scott before you go. He can give you the few leads we have." In that exact instant, a low, bass rumble indicated the Blackbird was coming to rest in its hangar. "We won't let her go without a fight."
"I'm not letting her go, period," came the growled reply as Logan turned and stalked down the tunnel.
Scott was carrying Jean down to the medlab despite his own injuries when Logan intercepted him. His eyes widened behind his visor and his step momentarily faltered.
"Logan? What the hell.?" he questioned incredulously, holding Jean closer as she stirred and moaned softly in his arms.
"Tell me everything," Logan growled, his stance aggressive and angry. "Since you couldn't be bothered to bring her home, I'm going to. You fucker."
Scott's nostrils flared as his jaw visibly clenched. "Look, I know you're upset, Logan, but don't think we didn't do everything we could to find her. And we're going back, but Jean and Hank-"
Deadly silver claws were suddenly inches from Scott's jugular. "Don't give me that bullshit-" Wolverine began, but a weak motion from Jean stopped him. She opened pain-filled eyes as she reached out and put a hand on his chest.
"Logan, stop," she murmured, her voice shaking and strained. "Believe me when I say we share your fear, but starting a war with Scott here certainly won't help Rogue. We have to pull together to find her, not splinter apart." Those few words seemed to exhaust her and she slumped against Scott's chest, unconscious.
"Damnit to hell, Logan," Scott bit out, stepping back, then around the enraged Wolverine. "I want Rogue back as badly as anyone, but I'm not going to sacrifice Jean and Hank. They need medical attention, then we search." His tone brooked no argument-not that Logan cared. It was the looks of sympathy from the rest of the team standing around in tattered uniforms that held him at bay, if only for a moment. Besides, whatever issues he had with Scott, Logan knew deep down that the man cared for Rogue as if she were his sister and he wouldn't leave her behind without a serious threat forcing his hand. His claws retracted with a deadly *snikt* and he turned to follow the ragged group to the medlab. All the while, though, his mind raced with how Sabertooth would use Rogue to draw him out. None of the pictures were very pretty.