CHASE

PART II

CHAPTER III

Logan felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and he stopped trying to understand what Scott and the little man where talking about and what was in the crates that Scott was paying for. He turned, sniffing the air, taking a few steps toward the railing.

People where moving about the second level. Without asking, he took the stairs, moving slowly and silently up each step. The voices grew louder, and now he could make them out. Lyra was up there, he could smell her fear.

'Ready to die?'

Slipping round the flank of the paddle steamer, he stopped, standing still for a minute to light a cigar.

His brown eyes caught sight of movement within the ballroom, its dated glamour was slowly pealing off the walls, the chandelier was hanging lopsidedly from a sagging roof and the worn dance floor had become the storage space for wooden boxes not unlike those that he had recently crammed into the back of Scott's metallic blue Mazda.

Stepping through the threshold of the decaying French doors, hoping his entrance would go unnoticed.

'You grab the stuff, I'm gonna go find Ghost and Radar before they kill Lyra.'
'So what if they do, she's a traitor. She doesn't deserve our mercy.'
'I don't think Ghost has that word in his vocabulary.'
'Good. Just leave him to do his thing.'
'Just do what I say Xylina. Then we can go kick some X-Men ass.'

The dark girl smirked, flicking her layered hair backwards, 'I can't believe you used to live with those people' She turned on her heal and heading into the kitchen.

Your living a lie Pyro, he thought, looking side ways as something dark passed the window. You don't belong at Xaviers and you sure as hell don't belong with Magneto.

He turned slowly, eyes cast down. When this is all over, you're gonna go back there, you're gonna tell Bobby why you did it, tell him yourself. And Rogue, this thing with Lyra, maybe it's to replace her. She never loved you, get over it.

He cursed, kicking at a stray whiskey bottle, it rolled to a stop just before a worn army boot. Pyro let his eyes wander up the torn jeans, to a flannel shirt, underneath a white wife beater singlet, pulled together with leather jacket and a belt buckle resembling the head of a native American.

He knew that outfit and he knew it meant trouble.

Logan let out a low, baritone growl, unleashing his claws slowly and deliberately. The metal gleamed in the early morning light that drifted in lazily through an open window, dripping them in molten gold.

'Why John? I just want to know why. You ruined more than one life when you left in the helicopter.'

The short brunette shrugged, pulling out his iconic shark lighter and flicking it open.

'Pyro.' He said firmly. 'So the good doctor died? Hmm? Funny how things like that work. Now we've got her. You want her back so bad, Wolverine? You want her real bad? I know you do.' He snarled, the flame intensified in his hand, engulfing it. 'Your gonna have to fight for your precious Jean.'

Logan growled, diving forward towards Pyro. The boy leapt sideways, sending a fireball straight at the wolfish man.

'Try again bub.' Logan said, spinning around, but before he could attack him again he felt his clothes and hair singe from behind.

'What the?' he yelled, turning, claws held forward.

'Naughty boys shouldn't play with fire,' a tall, dark girl said, finger waggling in front of her. 'Leave that to naughty girls.'

'Tempest... Pyro sneered, inching forward. 'Didn't anyone every tell you not to provoke mean little doggies?'

that was the final straw, Logan yelled and ran forward, claws swiping left, right and centre. Pyro swung back, sending an arm of flame flying towards a stack a wooden crates by the doorway, all of which contained tankards of alcohol which disintegrated in an explosion of amber flames.

'Pyro!' Lyra yelled, running through the smouldering door way of the floating ballroom.

'Not so fast,' hissed a soft voice. 'You and me gotta a few things to sort out first.'

'Ghost, get away from me!' she turned wildly, throwing a punch in his direction. He dodged it easily, grabbing Lyra's arm.

'When will you learn, Chase, that ay was always the fastest of the group. No one could ever catch me.'

'You were always telling me I was no one.' Lyra snapped back, sending her foot flying, catching Ghost off guard. Her heel collided with the child, slamming him back into a wall, which is disappeared through.

'Shit,' muttered Lyra, turning back to see how Pyro was faring.

X

Scott turned as shouts disturbed his transactions with Kenji Okamura, the little man yelled in horror as several of the windows shattered in their frames, flames pouring from the open doorway. A pale boy staggered backwards through the weatherboard wall and the railing of the second level to fall 10 feet, landing in a misshapen heap in Lyra's arms. 'But I was the only one who could catch you.5 miles in 5 minutes, remember that.'

The child let out a shattering screamed, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. His body was writhing, his face contorted in pain. 'PHOENIX!' the plead, a mere choked shriek.

Scott started for the pair but the confused supplier caught his arm. 'Mr Summers' His voice carried an English twinge, 'Would you care to explain what on earth is going on?' His tone was urgent and demanding, his bear bottle glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, sweat beading on his forehead. 'Charles said nothing of this.'

Fire had ravaged the boat in a matter of minutes. Thick, black smoke curled into the morning sky, embers dancing in the wind.

Scott just crammed the check into the mans open palm and sprinted for the two teens. 'What did you do to him?'

Lyra voiced her disagreement, pushing the boy into his lower ribs. 'Not me.' She said, raising her arm and pointed at a circling Black Hawk,

'Her.'

Scott turned, looking up at the amber tinted sky.

That's when he felt it.

Jean.

The emotions flooded back. Logan. The dam, the wave. Her selfless sacrifice.

He could feel her in his mind. Feel her searching his thoughts.

The pain that ripped through him nearly brought him to his knees.

It hurt more now, knowing that she was alive and close, so close that he could call her name and she would turn around and run into his arms. Be his again.

It hurt because she was there but he couldn't have her.

'JEAN!' he screamed, smoke whipping around him, rendering him sightless.

Tears were running unchecked down his cheeks. The boy wouldn't notice, he was barely conscious now.