Second Chances

Chapter 4

Logan was stunned. Jubilee, unable to go on missions or even protect herself effectively? It was her worst nightmare come true. The times she hated the most when she was growing up was when the team would go on a mission and leave her behind, telling her she would get hurt. Now, she had a lifetime of that to look forward to.

"If she were to be struck in the leg, the graft would separate from the artery and she would hemorrhage," Beast told him. "I would not be able to get to her in time to repair it. She would be dead from blood loss in four minutes."

"Oh God," Logan whispered, mourning the loss of his whole partner and love. She wouldn't stay. He knew that. She was so much like him and she would feel she was a burden to the team. He felt the same when he lost his adamantium. They would try to convince her to stay where they could protect her but she would reject them. She had too much pride to let them expose themselves to danger to protect her. No, she would leave and make a life of her own. And when she left, he would go with her.

"She'll leave, Hank," he said quietly. "You know that."

"Yes," he said sadly. "I expect she will." He pulled back the blankets to examine the small puncture wound in her groin he had made during the procedure. Satisfied that it wasn't bleeding, her replaced the covering. "Will you try to stop her?" he asked, curious.

He shook his head slightly. "No," he said, his voice low and rough. "I'm goin' with her."

Hank's hand dropped to the older man's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Keep her flat," he instructed. "I need to set up for surgery. Will you let her know when she wakes up?"

"Yeah. I'll tell her."

Hank's retreating scent indicated he had left the room and Logan was alone with her. He looked at the sleeping face, so smooth and calm now. In a few moments, it wouldn't be so calm. All she ever wanted to be was an X-Man. That was closed to her now. Her studies in library science would guarantee that she wouldn't starve but the excitement and danger she craved would be forever denied to her.

He stroked her cheek, his heart breaking for her loss. It didn't matter to him. He loved her, not her ability to fight evil. Yeah, she had been one to kick ass and take names later but that wasn't why he loved her. He loved her strength of will and her compassion. He loved her ability to get right to the heart of a matter without pussy footing around. She has an incredible ability to know what people mean even if they don't say it directly. She wasn't afraid to express her views on anything. He hoped that wouldn't change.

He held his breath as she stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

"Hi," she whispered. "Can I have a drink?"

"Sorry darlin'," he said. "Blue needs ta operate again. Ya can't have anythin' till after."

"What'd he say?" she asked, her speech slurred.

"Everythin's comin' undone. He's gonna fix yer leg with some kinda mesh." He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "It's gonna make it well darlin', but it won't be strong."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What aren't you telling me?" she demanded.

"The mesh'll let ya keep yer leg," he told her, "but it won't be strong enough fer ya fight. Hank's takin' ya off the team."

"Permanently?" she demanded.

"Yeah," he said, his head bowed. He couldn't meet her eyes. He didn't want to see the accusation in them. If he had thrown her higher, or to the side, she wouldn't be in this situation.

"Why?" she cried.

"If ya get hit in the leg, yer gonna bleed ta death before we can do anythin'. Ya only survived this time 'cause Jeannie saw it happen and slapped a telekinetic patch over the hole before ya bled ta death. Now that she's pregnant, she's off the team fer a while too. She won't be there if somethin' happens."

"That's an awful lot of 'if's'," she said, her voice unsteady.

"Ya know as well as I do that shit happens ta us," he told her. "Somethin'll happen. Just a matter of time."

She was quiet for a while. He kept his eyes on his lap until her heard her sob. Looking up, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Aw, baby," he whispered as he placed his cheek next to hers. "Please don't cry. I can't stand ta see ya cry."

"I can't do it again, Logan," she sniffed. "I can't stay here and watch everyone go off without me."

"I know," he told her, kissing her cheek.

"I can't," she said, shaking her head and crying. "Please don't make me do it again."

"I won't darlin'," he said, wiping the tears from her face. "I promise."

She wasn't listening to him. All of the feelings of abandonment from her childhood were welling up inside her, threatening to drown her in pain.

"Please don't make me stay," she begged. "I'll be good, I promise, just let me come along with you."

"Jubilee?" She was scaring him now. Her eyes were unfocused, lost in the fears of her past.

"I hafta go," she said, her voice rising. "Ya won't come back this time. I need ta be there ta protect yer back." She slipped back into the accent of her childhood. "Let me go, Wolvie. I promise I'll take cover if it gets too bad. Please let me go with you." By the end, she was screaming.

"Jubilee, calm down," he begged. "I ain't gonna leave ya here." She was thrashing wildly on the bed, not hearing him. "I'm sorry darlin'. I hafta do this." He reached down to her neck and found the cluster of nerves and blood vessels. With a delicate touch, he pressed the knot and she lost consciousness.

When he removed his hand from her neck, he was shaking badly.

"I promise ya, Jubilation Lee," he told the unconscious woman, "I won't abandon ya again. As long as ya want me, I'll be there. Whatever ya want ta do, I'll help ya."

"Ah'm gonna hold ya ta that," Rogue said from the door.

"I mean every word," he said defiantly.

"Ah know ya do, Sugah," she said as she stepped up behind him. "What happened? Ah heard her screamin' in the War Room."

"She's off the team," he told her. "Hank says her leg won't stand the strain of combat ever again. She kinda lost it when I told her so I put her out."

"Ah need ta help Hank set her collar bone," she told him. "Ah'll give her somethin' ta keep her out fer a while." She went to the cabinet at the head of the bed and drew up a dose of a sedative. Injecting it into the IV line, she looked at the sweet face she'd known for so many years.

"Oh, Sweet Pea," she said as she ran her gloved fingers through her hair. "Ah wish things had turned out different for ya. Ya don't deserve this." She continued to stroke her hair, deep in thought.

"You know Jubilee'll leave," he stated.

"Yeah," she said. "Ah figured she would. Logan, how'd ya like ta get her out of the mansion and stay near enough ta run with the team when ya need to?"

"How?" he asked curiously.

"Come with me tomorrow and Ah'll show ya," she told him.

"Rogue," Hank called from another room. "Are we ready to reduce the clavicle?"

"Yeah," she yelled. "We're ready. I'll bring her in." She turned to Logan and placed her hand on his cheek. "She'll be fine Sugah. She'll go straight to surgery after Beast sets the bone. Why don't ya get somthin' ta eat? Surgery's gonna take some time."

He smelled Jean approaching. Now that he knew, he could tell she was pregnant. The change in her pheromones was distinct. He could even tell it was a girl. He wondered if she knew. Oh well, it's not his business anyway. He had other, more important things to worry about.

"Jean," Rogue said as she glanced over his shoulder. "Take Logan, here, and get him some supper. Beast is gonna be a while and I'm sure he hasn't eaten today." Her eyes were saying 'Get him outta my hair'.

Jean nodded slightly and smiled. "Come on Logan," she said gently. "I'll get you some stew, heavy on the meat."

"I ain't a child Jean," he snapped, exhaustion and fear making his temper short.

"I know," she told him. "But you have forgotten to eat today. You can come back after you finish a bowl of stew."

If looks could kill, Jean would have been struck dead where she stood.

"Call me when he's done," he growled out as he swept by the ladies.

He stopped in the War Room long enough to grab a communicator badge and grunt at Remy who was watching the monitors.

"Goin' out, mon ami?" Remy asked, his feet propped on the desk.

"Damn women," he growled. "Tryin' ta baby me like I ain't got the good sense God gave a turnip." He stabbed the pin into his shirt, drawing blood. He welcomed the pain. "Goin' out on my scoot," he told Remy. "If I ain't back in three, call me in." He stomped out of the War Room, not waiting for Remy to agree.

He made his way from the lower levels to the garage. The halls were full of students between classes and every one of them squashed themselves against the walls when they saw him coming. No one tried to stop him. The look on his face told them to stop his progress was to die, instantly. The only person capable of erasing the thunderous expression on his face was lying unconscious in the Med Lab. Even Jean, whom he had lusted after for the better part of fifteen years, didn't have the power to bring him out of the mood he was in.

He paused in the kitchen long enough to grab a six pack from the fridge and growl threateningly at two of the younger students who happen to be in the way. They skittered quickly out of the room, one in tears. The girls' reaction to his high temper was enough to cool him off enough to apologize to her as she was leaving.

He shoved the six pack roughly into his saddle bag and swung a leg over the seat of his scoot. The Harley started with a roar and he peeled out of the garage, his temper still simmering hot. He was tearing down Greymalkin Lane when he heard the Blackbird pass overhead. Cyke and Popsicle were back from Cleveland.

He stopped and watched as the black form descended to land in it's hanger. Anyone watching him would have seen the pained and troubled look on his face as he tracked the jet and rubbed the ache in his chest. He watched until the plane was out of his sight, then continued on his ride.

The growl of the engine bounced wildly through the trees, knocking many of the brightly colored leaves from their precarious perches in the branches. The wind ripped through his hair and red, gold and orange leaves swirled behind him like brightly colored butterflies in drunken flight.

He didn't care where he was going, he just wanted to go. To bring to the front the beast that lived within him. He pushed harder; going faster. He snarled, daring the road to defeat him. The civilized man was peeled from his skin by the road and the wind an the cold, leaving the animal behind. He was finally free.

He rode for hours, the man inside warning the animal not to go far from the mansion. They both understood that the mate was hurt but would be well again with time. All they needed to do was wait and they could claim the mate, but she must be healthy first. A broken mate produced sickly young. She must be healthy enough for the chase for the mating hunt produced the strongest pups. He wanted strong young so he could teach them to survive in this world of men.

Both man and beast agreed that this mate would last. She wouldn't die like the others. She was stronger to begin with and after he taught her how defend herself and their young, she would be able to stand up against anything.

The 'chirrup' of the communicator on his chest sent the beast scurrying back inside in fear. It didn't like the electronics the man was required to carry with him. He refused to deal with it and forced the man to the front to answer the call.

"What?" he growled.

"Hank's almost finished," Scott told him. Logan was heartened to hear the normalcy of his voice. The surgery must have gone well.

"Be back in fifteen," he told him. He turned the bike around and headed back to the mansion at a considerably more sedate speed.

He bound into the Med Lab to find the entire team gathered, waiting for Hank to appear. Remy was carrying the small remote alarm that kept him abreast of what the monitors were watching. At present, he was ignoring whatever the computers were saying. He was deep in conversation with Rogue. From the look on his face, he was propositioning her. The look on her face said she was considering it. She was still dressed in surgical greens with a paper bonnet covering her hair. Not the most attractive ensemble to be sure but Gambit didn't seem to mind.

"He's making sure she's going to breathe on her own," Scott said as he walked over to him. "He hasn't come out to give us the details yet but Rogue said it went well."

"It went great," Rogue called from the other side of the room. "She's gonna be in ICU fer a coulpa days but she'll be fine. Why don't ya go see Hank? He'll tell ya what happened."

He crossed the room, avoiding the clusters of X-Men and slipped into the small ICU that doubles as a recovery room. He found the large, blue doctor bending over the still form of Jubilee. Her skin was pale but not so white that he was concerned. A plastic tube was sitting in her slightly open mouth, a small amount of blood crusted the outside of the tube. Her eyes were slitted open in a vacant stare he had come to associate with anesthesia. The stench of medicines hung heavy in the air, hitting the back of his throat and making him roll his tongue around in his mouth to try to get the taste out.

"Logan," Hank called. "Could you please hold her down? I need to extubate her."

"Huh?"

"The tube," he clarified. "I need to remove the breathing tube. Just hold her shoulders so she doesn't jump."

He came over to the bed and rested his hands heavily on her shoulders. Her skin was cool but dry.

"Jubilee," Hank called loudly. "Take a deep breath and blow it out."

Her eyes opened in confusion.

"Deep breath and blow." Hank instructed.

Her chest rose as she followed the instructions. Hank wrapped a towel around the tube and pulled as she exhaled. The breath ended with a wracking cough. She gasped loudly and began to cough again. Hank slapped a mask over her mouth and told her to take deep breaths as best she could.

She moaned and reached up for the mask, intending to remove it. Logan caught her hand and held it.

"Don't touch it darlin'," he told her. "Ya need the oxygen ta get the chemicals outta yer blood."

Her eyes finally met his and widened in recognition. "I'm here darlin'. I'll stay as long as ya need me."

She smiled slightly as her eyes drifted closed again. "Love you," she whispered beneath the mask.

If it wasn't for his heightened senses, he wouldn't have heard it. He brushed her hair away from her face with a callused finger tip. "Love ya too," he murmured.

During the first twenty-four hours, he didn't leave her side. He stayed through the dressing changes, the medication, the visits from the team. Through the bed pans and the post operative vomiting. He was finally forced to leave her, not by the X-Men, but by the Brotherhood and their desire to take over a chemical factory in Ohio.

It was there that he realized how important she was not only to himself, but to the team. With Storm in Africa and Jean and Jubilee off for medical reasons, they were severely short handed. Cyclops had asked Sam Guthrie, Kurt Wagner and Emma Frost to make up their numbers and they all agreed. Unfortunately, none of them could match Jubilee's power projection and the battle was longer and bloodier as a result.

The team had been a delicate balance of distance and close in fighters. Cyclops, Jubilee, Storm and Gambit made up the distance fighters with their mutant abilities to project their powers over distances. Rogue and Wolverine were the up close and personal fighters, getting into the thick of things and inflicting as much damage as possible. Jean was their safety net able to pull an injured team member out when necessary and keeping track of the enemy. She linked the X-Men together so they always knew what each member was doing at any given time. Their incidents of 'friendly fire' were few and far between

With Storm and Jubilee out, Cyclops and Gambit were the only heavy guns they had. Cyclops had a powerful mutant gift but he could only shoot what he could see. Gambit also had a powerful mutation but it was limited by his throwing arm and the wind which occasionally sent a charged card fluttering wildly across the battlefield, sometimes taking out friendlies. Jubilee wasn't limited by line of sight or wind. She could hit a target as long as she had an accurate mental picture. She was able to direct her paffs around obstacles and people to place them exactly where they were needed most. She and Gambit were the only two effective dual role fighters on the team at the present time. Both were immune to the energy they produced and both were deadly fighters up close.

Cannonball's powers were so close to Rogue's that he seemed to be redundant. Emma had tried to link them as Jean had done but was too unfamiliar with the minds of the team. As a result, Wolverine, Gambit and Rogue were left out of the loop completely. They had been reduced to shouting across the streets to let their teammates know where they were. This, in turn, alerted the enemy to their positions. Gambit, Emma and Scott had all been wounded slightly. Wolverine himself had been severely wounded but had recovered enough to finish the battle. By the time they boarded the jet, he was in a very foul mood indeed.

"What a cluster fuck," he swore as he climbed into the pilots seat to fly them home. The wounded arm of Cyclops prevented him from taking his customary position as team pilot. He sullenly took the seat behind Wolverine.

"We need a lot of training to pull this team together," he mumbled knowing Wolverine would hear him.

"Yer gonna hafta wait until the wounded can train," Logan reminded him as he sped through the preflight checklist. "Until then, Rogue, Crawler, Beast and I'll take care of business. Everyone else is just in the way."

"God," Scott sighed. "I miss having Jubilee on the team."

"Me too,Cyke," Logan murmured. "Me too."