Disclaimer: Several new characters are mine, including the plot. X-Men belongs to Marvel and Fox.

Blix: Yes, cruel. Bwahaha. XD This is a worse.. And the plot gets crueller.. trust me. I was forcing back tears when I wrote this.

Omala: Drastic? Not technically, since she failed to kill anyone, which is what Graham wanted her to do. He's pretty pissed off and killed her.. It's not like he cares about killing anyone! All your questions shall be answered my friend...

Chapter 34

It all suddenly replayed in Logan's mind, all the happenings that had been missed whilst he lost himself in Roxanne's embrace. The gun shot, the shrill soaring of the bullet, the continuous warnings overhead, the cruel words of Stryker. They all played at double volume inside his head, also screening her falling body over and over, the gasp of surprise and pain. Logan's relatively still form of shock broke free and his hands began to clasp into fists and tremble with the suppressed anger that boiled and surged through his body. His eyes dropped to take another disbelieved look at the fallen body, and the rage broke through its barrier. But Logan made no sound, nor any quick movements. He just rose stoically, though his eyes were ablaze, his true feelings currently masked by the oddly calm posture.

Graham smiled at him with a malevolent aura. A hand idly ran his dark hair from his face, haunting blue eyes staring at him, "Wolverine.." he greeted, with the air of a long-time friend, "How are you?" he asked in derisive tone, the smile on his lips not at all amiable, but cunning, and indifferent to the sin he had just accomplished. The gun hung loose from his index finger as he gestured either side of him as he spoke. He took a casual step forward, neatening his suit.

No reply issued from Logan at the vindictive words. He just gently moved round Roxanne, and closed the distance slightly between him and his maker's son by a single step.

"Not going to reply?" asked Graham with a false air of shock. He gestured to Logan then to himself, "Manners, Wolverine. Use them?" He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Y'know.." he said calmly, "I don't know much about you Wolverine.. you are after all the work of my father, and not me. I've not read any documents on you.. just heard, little snippets, here and there." His smiled widely at Logan, "Forgive the pun." His arms folded gently and he made an elaborate sigh, "Not gonna say hello then, Wolverine?" Indeed, Logan was silent, face consorted by the undeniable rage. Graham chuckled some more, raising his gun, "No?" he shook his head in a unhappy manner, his devious smirk broadly showing, "Too bad, you gotta die!"

The bullet shot. As if some starting gun on a racetrack, the sound triggered Logan into a run. A heaving roar of mad rage bellowed over the gunshot, drowning it out so easily. The bullet sliced through into his shoulder, but that mere obstacle did nothing. Graham's smirk fell from his face when the Wolverine didn't recoil and fall at the shot. In a panic Graham raised the gun and continuously fired his shots desperately to bring down the Wolverine. But each hit only made the beast thirstier for blood. The six claws soon reached out hungrily from his knuckles, the sheer sight of them drawing blood without touching Graham, for his face had paled instantly. The darkness caused Logan to have the upper hand, he could sense Graham, but Graham could see nothing but a rough outline, the occasional glint of a claw, and shimmering of glaring eyes.

A fist darted forward to the blackness and grappled Graham by the throat and dragged him close. "Don't do anything hasty," Graham snarled, "Or the police will be on your ass so quick – "

But a claw arriving in his line of sight silenced him. Logan lowered his head and growled his words, "I ain't doin' nothin' hasty. I'll be killin' you nice.. and.. slow." Graham couldn't utter another word, for three claws had heaved upwards to puncture through the man's throat. The crunching of bone and the garbled cry of help pleased the Wolverine wildly; the revenge was too good to be true. Wolverine smirked at the sickening flow of blood over his bare hands, reminded of his old days when he found alarming pleasure at slicing his way through Stryker's workers with his new found weapons and new animalistic skill. Logan retracted his claws from the man throats, without the support Graham staggered and fell backwards, continuing to choke and gag on the damage and blood. Logan knew he couldn't stay here and continue the torture the man, he couldn't revert back to the old ways he had broken out of. With a heavy snort he dropped his hand, wiping it clean with a sarcastic grimace on the Graham's suit before he turned and hurried over to Roxanne.

When he stooped by her side. He could sense life from her, she wasn't dead. Not yet, his mind argued, but Logan brushed that thought away with determination. He would get her out of here, back to the X-Men and bring her home. His arms fell about her form, lifting her and holding her body to his with a soft sigh. It was only then when the countdown entered back into his thoughts. With a terrified realization at the time they had to go (.. three minutes and thirty two seconds..) Logan started his run, but it was back the way they had come. Where could he go? Back the way they came in? He felt positive that he could barged himself through that door. Perhaps the X-Men would be looking for him? No... he'd smell them if they were. And they wouldn't wait so long that they'd endanger themselves. He wouldn't want them to do that...

Scott was the first one to reach the door, his eyes scanned it nervously before his hands took the handle and with a determined grunt he tried to push it open. The door was stuck. In fact, it was only partly locked; add some strength and it would give away. Half of the door had been blown off when Scott first blasted through it, perhaps he should do that again? Behind him the X-Men watched in frightened silence. Scott didn't want to give them cause for concern.. he could get it open. His hands placed upon his visor, and the red laser blasted down upon the remaining door and it slammed open. Sighs of relief all round came and the X-Men pursued on through, running back through the dark corridor, Aurora directing them back to the Blackbird.

The X-Men were certainly having an easier time than Logan, they were soon out, but the time was dwindling fast for Logan to follow on. Once in the Blackbird, the X-Men peered out of the window, waiting with bated breaths for the return of Logan. The steps were still down in wait; in the background they could still here the robotic countdown.

"Come on Logan.." murmured Storm softly in unhelpful encouragement, holding her hands tightly together whilst her eyes staring resolutely at the steps, waiting for his face to appear.

Scott turned his head slightly to the distant sounds, "If he doesn't get here soon.." his eyes fell back on the others with a solemn expression, "We'll have to move out."

"You mean fly away and leave him?" cried Siren, rising from her seat.

"Even though we're out of the building the explosion will reached us here and set the jet alight.." replied Scott softly. His voice was full of worry that he tried to keep down, "the countdown's on two minutes.." all heard it but Scott found the need to vocalise it.

"He'll be here," murmured Michael softly, resting his eyes on Aurora next to him, then to the others, "He's got to be.."

Scott was sat with his lowered face covered by a hand, but although no one could see his face, they could all sense the situation for Scott. As a leader it was his duty to look after them all. He didn't want to leave Logan, but he didn't want them all killed. Scott sat in silence, still unflinching.. just listening to the countdown. Finally he raised his head, "One minute," he informed shakily, "We gotta go,"

"No!" cried Aurora, turning to Scott, "We can't leave him to die! Just wait!"

"We need time to get the jet off the ground.. it has to be now, or we're all dead," whispered Scott, his eyes turned to Storm for validation. With reluctance the white haired woman nodded her agreement to the others of the jet, at which Aurora howled her dismay and Siren screamed her anger. "We gotta do it," said Scott softly, turning to the front of the jet and setting the controls. The steps rose and closed, shutting with an echoing clank that seemed to ensure the finality of it all. There was no going back.

"Scott.." began Michael, watching the raised steps with frightened eyes. Scott looked round as his name was called, but Michael just shook his head defeatedly. The engine of the Blackbird started, the entire jet shook softly at the power of the thrusters. Scott and Storm shared one glance before she lowered her palm to the controls and brought forward the lever and the jet was airborne off the mountain..

Determination was the only thing that made Logan continue, he was bleeding heavily from the bullet wounds, and carrying Roxanne weakened his strength. He staggered on through the blasted down door, stumbling over the debris before he continued to run on, clutching Roxanne to him desperately.

".. 28 seconds.. 27 seconds.. 26 seconds.."

Where was that damn exit? He had to get out of there, and clear the base. With a lunge of breath he bellowed through the tunnel, "Scott!" He shakily listened to his echo, stumbling forth through the puddles; he involuntarily made a soft whimper. "Aurora!!" There was no one. He suddenly had never felt so alone, even when nobody was with him. Before nobody cared. But now, they were supposed to care, and still they weren't waiting to help him and Roxanne, even at the end, just to be there to welcome him.

".. 20 seconds.. 19 seconds.. 18 seconds.."

"No.." he moaned pitifully, blindly staggering and hitting himself against the rough walls of the tunnel, still trying to stay upright and keep Roxanne in his arms. "Storm.." he said softly, but it was no more a shout.. just a unhappy whine as he thought of all the X-Men. There was no point in trying; the door was still so far away. It took him a good number of minutes to get in when he was running. Now his weak stumbles couldn't even be classed as a walk. And he had nothing but a matter of seconds.

"10.. 9.. 8.. 7.."

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her cold ear with a soft sob, he fell against the tunnel wall, holding her as tight as possible against him for the last time.

"5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. "

Cliffhanger? What cliffhanger?

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