Second Chances

Chapter 10

Logan carried Jubilee to his Jeep the next morning. She had lain in their bed for three days, staring at the ceiling and not blinking much. She refused to look at him at all. He wanted so bad to make this right for her but he couldn't. Cyke and Wings hired lawyers, hoping to find a way that they could get married legally, but all of them had said, "You must have a legal name before you can marry anywhere in the world". He had already asked his contacts in Japan, but they had even tougher laws dealing with marriage. He thought about taking her to Madripoor but it had been so long since he'd been there, there was a chance that the officials he had bribed weren't loyal anymore. He couldn't take the chance she would be attacked.

He spent the first week at the cabin lying in bed with Jubilee and taking care of her. He would bathe her and wash her hair. He always made sure he dressed her in her favorite clothes. He made a ludicrous attempt to apply her make-up. The results were considerably less than ideal. Deciding that Jubilee would rather wear no make-up than look like a clown, he washed it all off again.

Mostly what he did was touch her. He would hold her and stroke every inch of skin he could reach. He wanted her to remain grounded. He hoped his touch would keep her connected to this world and pull her out of the one she had created. It was torture for him. Just because he had stopped making love to her didn't mean he didn't want her. He loved her. Her body would always turn him on but he hated that she didn't react to his lovemaking anymore. It was almost like making love to a dead woman.

He also talked. Every day, he would remind her that he loved her and would never stop, no matter how their lives turned out. He described the birds and animals that wandered by their small nest and he made up stories about them. The only time he felt her react was when he suggested they leave the team and make a life of their own. Her eyes flashed and, once again, went blank but he could smell the trace of anger coming from her. He wasn't sure if it was directed at the X-Men or at him for suggesting they leave. It was, however, the first reaction he got from her in three weeks.

They ran out of food the second week. He couldn't take the time to hunt. Hunting for fresh meat could take as much as three or four days and he couldn't leave her alone that long. He tucked her into bed and removed all the sharp objects from the cabin. He grabbed her bottle of pain killers and tucked it into his pocked before doing one last circuit of the house to make sure there wasn't anything she could hurt herself with. Satisfied that the cabin was safe, he kissed her goodbye and left for town.

Victor Creed is a murderer. He was proud of that fact. He didn't take shit from anyone, ever. There was only one person he felt was near his equal: Logan, AKA Wolverine, AKA Weapon X and a host of other, less inspired aliases. Creed hated Logan with a passion even he didn't truly understand. All he understood was that he had made it his mission in life to kill the runty bastard before the SOB killed him. They were well matched. Both were feral mutants with healing factors and foul tempers. Victor's mutation was feline. He was very tall, 6'7", muscular and heavy. He had an animal side that he embraced with both arms. His animal side had kept him alive during his years with Department H and Alpha Flight. But it was the Weapon X program that made him truly love the beast inside him. Without the beast, he would have died.

Unlike Logan, Creed had volunteered for the program. Looking beck, he had to admit to himself that it wasn't the most intelligent decision he ever made. He already knew and loathed Logan by then and the runt had kicked his ass repeatedly. He went to Weapon X looking for an edge.

Logan had been their first and, according to them, their best. It was the reason he was called 'Weapon X'. Logan came out of the program with lightening fast reflexes, a muscle mass that shamed professional body builders, an unbreakable, adamantium laced skeleton and a nifty set of adamantium pig stickers. Creed craved what Logan had been forced to accept.

The Weapon X program had been closed down but not before they had jacked up his reflexes and muscle mass. He did not receive the adamantium bonding procedure. Weapon X had altered several mutants over the years but Logan had been their only real success. The only problem was that they couldn't control him. They had invested billions of dollars in the weapons they had built but none of them worked. Adamantium for Creed just wasn't in the budget, so he was sent away without it. Creed later went back and killed everyone on the base for their insult.

Creed now made it his mission in life to make Logan's life as miserable as possible. Every year, around Logan's birthday, Creed would terrorize Logan's loved ones, most often, Jubilee. He and the runt would trade insults and beat the shit out of each other. Then, they would crawl off to their respective holes, lick their wounds and wait to get better.

The reasons he had for picking on Jubilee would be very familiar to every psychologist who had been in practice for the last century. He wanted what Logan had with her; a partner, sidekick and friend. Victor Creed had no friends. He was a loner by disposition and felt that he didn't need friends. That didn't keep him from being jealous of Logan's easy rapport with the tiny Asian frail.

He both hated and admired her. He hated that she could so easily control a feral much like himself. He also admired her for being able to control a feral. He really admired her for standing up to him every time he attacked her. Individually, he believed that he could take the X-Men. The only one he wasn't sure of was Jubilee. She was unpredictable and very well trained. He thought that she wouldn't hesitate to kill him if she had the opportunity. That made her more dangerous than all of them.

Still, he wanted her. Not sexually. His tastes ran to taller, more sturdy women. No, he wanted her for what she did for Logan; to tame his animal side. He didn't have the patience to make his own friend so he had decided to take the runt's.

He had sniffed around the X-mansion briefly last week. They had been there but were gone now. Several of his connections on the main drag to Canada had informed him that the runt had passed by about ten days ago. He figured they were going to the cabin. Perfect. He could grab the kid and kill the runt at the same time.

He left his Jeep well off the road and approached the cabin from the downwind side. It wouldn't do to alert his prey too early. He took a deep sniff. Logan wasn't in. The kid was there but her scent was different. The runt must have finally given in and fucked the frail. Her scent was now the one of a mature woman. There was something wrong with her scent. He couldn't quite place it but it was familiar. He needed to get in closer and find out what it was.

He crept around the back of the cabin to the bedroom window. 'What the hell?' he thought as he sniffed the air wafting out of the open window. Sadness and pain were predominate, but the undertone was one of death. He carefully looked through the window. The little frail was lying on the bed, not moving. An amber plastic bottle was on the floor beside the bed, the top off and several white pills strewn from it. Her heartbeat was slow and her breathing, shallow. Her skin was very pale. Her eyes were sunken and ringed with dark smudges. Creed found that he was growling.

"What the fuck did ya do, frail?" he growled as he climbed through the window.

He grabbed the bottle from the floor and read the label. MS Contin. There were five of them on the floor. How many had been in the bottle in the first place? He leaned over and sniffed her breath. The scent of narcotics made him pull back sharply.

"Kid!" he yelled, slapping her face. "How many of those things did ya take?"

She moaned softly as he slapped her again.

"How many?" he roared. Her eyes opened. Her pupils were widely dilated. She looked at him without recognition.

"Shit!" he swore as her eyes rolled up into her head.

He ran for the kitchen and grabbed a pot and a spoon. He needed to force her to vomit the pills back up. Unfortunately, he had talons and would slice up her throat if he stuck his finger down it. The spoon would have to do.

He returned to the bedroom and flipped her roughly onto her side and pulled her to the edge of the bed, positioning the pot on the floor below her head. Wrenching open her mouth, he jammed the butt of the spoon deep into her mouth. The results were immediate. She started to bring up her stomach contents, violently.

She heaved for five minutes after she emptied her stomach. Creed was able to count fifteen small white pills in the mess she vomited. Plenty to have killed her. She was serious about this.

He waited until her stomach had stopped contracting before hauling her out of bed and dragging her around the room. Her heart rate was much stronger and she was taking deeper breaths but she still wasn't out of the woods yet.

"I can't believe ya'd do somethin' this stupid, frail," he growled as he forced her to walk. "What the fuck did ya think ya were goin' ta accomplish?" he demanded. "I can smell that the runt's had ya already so why do somethin' so fucking stupid? Ya got what ya wanted. Is he such a bad a fuck that ya had ta opt out ferever? Ya ain't pregnant, so why?" Her feet were beginning to move on their own. He continued his tirade. "This sure as shit ain't like ya ta take the cowards way out. If ya wanted ta die, I coulda helped ya out. Ya coulda asked me first. Ya didn't need ta do somthin' like this."

He had been walking her around the room, swearing and yelling at her for nearly an hour. His voice had finally begun to penetrate the fog that clouded Jubilee's mind. It was irritating as hell. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Will you just shut the fuck up, Creed?" she demanded weakly.

He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her. "Why?" he demanded.

"I got my reasons," she mumbled.

"Shit, Jubilee," he thundered. "Ain't no reason ta try ta commit suicide."

"Maybe I have a good reason," she whispered.

"Never," he growled. "I ain't gonna argue with ya 'bout this. Ya try it again, and I'll kill ya."

'Snickt.'

"Get away from her, Creed," Logan growled from the door.

"What the hell have ya been doin' ta her, runt?" Creed demanded, pulling Jubilee, hard, against his side.

"Let go of her and back away." His growl deepened, the threat becoming more serious.

"If I let go, the frail'll fall down," Creed growled himself. "She tried ta kill herself. Can't ya smell it?"

Wolverine had been concentrating so hard on Creed and Jubilee that he had been ignoring the scents in the room. He allowed his mind to pay attention now. He could smell it now: Her pain medication. She must have gotten another bottle from Hank before they left.

"How many did she take?" he asked, his voice thick.

"Fifteen," Creed told him. "What the fuck did ya do ta her ta make her want ta die?"

"I ain't done nothin' ta her," Logan growled. "I've been tryin' ta marry her fer the past six months. Come here, Jubes. Let me see yer eyes."

She stumbled out of Creeds arms and made her shaky way to Logan. He retracted his claws and caught her before she fell. He tipped her head up and looked into her eyes. Her pupils were sluggish, but reacting. She was out of danger now and it was safe to let her sleep off the drugs. He lifted her into his arms and rubbed his cheek against her hair. He would have to mark her again after he got rid of Creed. He growled dangerously at Creed who growled back, but moved to the other side of the room as Logan took her back to the bed and tucked her in.

Kissing the top of her head, he turned and growled at Creed again. Victor understood what the growl meant and left the room.

Logan was closing the door as Creed was leaving the cabin. "Thanks," Logan said reluctantly. He hated having to be in debt to his enemies.

"Why'd she do it?" Creed asked. "I never thought I'd see the day when a woman as strong as Jubilee'd try ta kill herself."

"Why do ya wanna know?" Logan asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Believe it 'er not, I like the frail," Creed said, a surprised look on his face. He wasn't surprised that he liked the kid but more that he'd admit it to the runt.

Logan debated with himself. Creed had saved Jubilee's life. He owed the furball an explanation.

"Seven months ago, she was hurt, bad," he told him. "Blue told her she can't have kids. I think she'd accept it if it wasn't that Jeannie got pregnant. Seein' her swellin' up with a baby is more than Jubilee can stand. That, and I can't marry her 'cause I don't know who I am."

Creed nodded in understanding. All of the ex-Weapon X experiments had been mind wiped. "Ya love her?" Creed demanded.

"What do ya care?"

"I told ya, I like the frail. I don't wanna see her hurt."

His scent told Logan that he was telling the truth. "Yeah, I love her," he said.

"Good," Creed said as he walked toward the road. "That don't mean I ain't gonna try ta kill ya. She'll hafta understand; I don't like you."

He watched as the taller man walked down to the road. Logan saw him stop and turn back to the cabin. "I'll leave ya alone until she's better, but if I find out she did it ta get away from ya, ain't nothin' she can say'll keep me from guttin' ya." he called before he turned again and loped into the trees.

Logan returned to the cabin and closed the door. The scent of vomit and drugs was overpowering. He checked on Jubilee and started cleaning up the bedroom. It took him three hours to get the smell down to where he could tolerate it. He cooked a light dinner of soup and bread and went again to check on his lover. She was beginning to stir. He sat on the side of the bed and waited.

He knew exactly when she woke up. He could hear the change in her breathing. She didn't speak until he forced her to.

"I know yer awake, Jubilee," he said.

She opened her eyes and looked at him for the first time in weeks. "Are ya hungry?" he asked her. She nodded slightly. He lifted a bowl of soup from the table and began to spoon the rich broth into her mouth. He didn't speak until she had finished.

"We need ta talk, darlin'," he told her. He pulled a washcloth from the drawer next to the bed and dipped it into the water he had placed beside the bed earlier. It was still warm. He gently began to wash her face and hands. When he was done, he dropped the rag in the water and took her hands in his own.

"Why, Jubes?" he asked, "Do ya hate me so much that ya'd leave me alone fer the rest of my life?"

"You wouldn't be alone for long," she whispered. "You'd find someone who can give you children and can fight. I can't."

"Ya don't know much about ferals, darlin'. We form a primitive bond with our mates. We mate fer life. When ya die, I'll be alone till I die."

"But you've had sex with lots of women," she said, her voice very weak.

"I never bonded with any of them except Mariko," he told her, "and now, you. Ya saw what Mariko's death did ta me, and the bond is much stronger with you than it was with her."

Her eyes glazed over with tears. "I never wanted to hurt you," she whimpered. "I just wanted you to have what I couldn't give you."

He gathered her into his arms and held her as she wept. "All I want is you," he told her. "Yer the best thing that ever happened ta me. I even let Creed walk outta here 'cause of ya."

"Creed?"

"He saved yer life, darlin'. We owe him."

"He was the one dragging me around the room?"

"Uh-huh," he confirmed. "He found ya on the bed and made ya vomit the pills. If he hadn't been here, ya woulda died."

"Why didn't he let me die of kill me?"

"Strange thing," Logan said, amused, "he likes ya. He was pissed at me 'cause yer depressed."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," Logan smiled. "Found him walkin' ya around the room and snarlin' at ya fer doin' somethin' so stupid. Said if ya try it again, he'd kill ya."

"That makes a lot of sense," she said, her voice colored with sarcasm.

"A rocket scientist, he ain't." Logan agreed.

"If you can't say anything nice about someone, it's best not to say anything at all," a voice said from the door.

Logan was off the bed, crouched in a low attack stance, before Jubilee could blink. She looked over to the door and was shocked to see a very familiar face.

"Reverend Martin?" she gasped.

"I don't know who the hell ya are, bub, but Patrick Martin died two years ago," snarled Wolverine. Jubilee could almost see his hackles rising. He was angry and in full protective mode.

The apparition that was Bishop Martin walked further into the room. Wolverine growled at him in warning.

"Settle down, young man," he said as he walked toward the bed. "I will not harm you or your lovely wife."

Jubilee saw the muscles of his back tense just before popped his claws and leapt at the old man. To her surprise, Logan passed through the body of the bishop without harming him. Only his cat-like reflexes prevented him from slamming face first into the opposite wall.

He sheathed his claws in time to hit the wall with his hands, push off, flip in the air and land, crouched, on the floor. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that the old man was now between him and Jubilee.

Jubilee's heart leapt when she saw what was happening. Patrick Martin was approaching the bed and Wolvie was going feral. She had to stop it. She couldn't let him go. She didn't have the strength to bring him back. A swirling ball of blue and pink plasma appeared in her outstretched hand when she called her powers. Taking careful aim, she released the plasma and sent it on its way.

The hot plasma passed through Bishop Martin and hit Wolverine on the left shoulder, knocking him off his feet and into the wall. She climbed out of the bed and wobbled across the room. Her knees gave out just as she reached Logan's feet. He was quick enough to keep her head from crashing to the floor.

"Jubilee!" he cried as he pulled her to his chest. He quickly looked her over. She wasn't injured but she was exhausted and still had the drugs in her system. He looked angrily at Martin. "What do ya want?" he demanded.

"Only to talk," Martin said. "I know you and your wife have questions and I want to answer them. I won't hurt either of you." He moved away from the bed and sat in the rocking char near the window.

Logan picked her up and took her back to the bed. Placing her carefully on the far side of the bed, he positioned himself between Martin and Jubilee. He stood facing the old man and began to growl softly.

"Stop it Wolvie," she admonished weakly. "I think I know what he is." She turned to her side and wriggled around so she could see their visitor. "You're not a mutant or a ghost, are you?" she asked, more a statement than a question.

"No, child, I'm not."

She pinched Logan on the leg. "Move," she ordered. He glanced down at her in surprise. "He won't hurt us," she assured him.

"How can you know that?" he hissed.

"Because he's an angel," she told him. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"I'm not an angel," Martin told her. "I'm something all together different. I'm not allowed to explain but please be assured, I cannot hurt you in any way."

"Ya already hurt her when we found out ya were dead," Logan told him.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "I could have handled that differently. Please, sit and I will answer your questions. But first." he looked Jubilee directly in the eye. "You almost did something totally unforgivable, young lady."

She ducked her head behind Logan's leg. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"It's not me you should apologize to," he told her. "You owe your husband an apology, and a promise."

She looked up at him, her apology in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Logan. I won't ever do anything like that again."

He ran a rough finger down her cheek. She reached up and grabbed his hand in hers. She turned it, palm to her, and kissed his hand. He pulled her lower lip down slightly with his thumb before dropping his hand to his side. He looked back at the old man and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wouldn't let his guard down yet but he would listen and ask his questions.

"Who are ya?" he asked as he lowered his bulk next to Jubilee.

"As I've told you before, I am Patrick Martin. Until ten years ago, I was a bishop of the Archdiocese of New York and not well liked among my peers."

"But you've been dead for two years," she objected.

"Two years, July 8th," he confirmed.

"But how? Or better yet, why?" she asked.

"How, you would not understand," he told her. "It's a matter of faith. Why, I can tell you. It was decided that you two need an advocate."

"An advocate?" Logan asked. "Why?"

"Your lives have been torn apart by one horrible incident. Had it not happened, your wife would still be fighting the good fight and possibly awaiting the birth of your first child. The first obstacle you needed to overcome was the fact that a group of unscrupulous men took your name from you. I can't help you to learn it. That is a decision that must come from further up, but I could allow you the pleasure of marrying the woman you loved."

"But we're not married," Jubilee protested. "Not legally."

"Nothing can can be more powerful than the will of God," he said. "In His eyes, you are indeed, married. There is nothing man can do that can change that."

"But our children will be illegitimate," Jubilee said.

"Illegitimacy is a human concept. All children are born for a purpose, and all children are loved."

"Will we have kids?" Logan asked hopefully. "Blue doesn't want her ta try."

"Have faith in your teammate," he told them. "He's a highly intelligent man."

"Ya mean it'll work?"

"I didn't say that. He came up with the idea and the work is his own. We haven't influenced him or interfered. I only mean that you need to have faith in him."

"So it'll work or it won't," Jubilee said.

"There are no guarantees in life," he agreed.

"'Cept death," Logan murmured.

"Not necessarily," Martin said. "You, yourself, have seen many people come back from the dead."

"He's got you there, Wolvie." Jubilee said.

Logan grunted in agreement.

"What will happen to Wolvie after I die?" she asked, concerned. "The only reason I ask is that we've bonded and loosing his lifemate will be hard on him."

"Loosing his lifemate with the bond you two have developed may kill him, but the future hasn't been written. Nothing is in stone until it has happened."

"If I die, will Jubes die, too?" Logan reluctantly asked.

"Yes," Martin said. "She is not feral, but the bond has linked her to you so strongly that she is dependent on your life force to live."

"But the bond is only six months old," Logan told him.

"No, it's not," he said. "The bond was present in both of you at your birth. Haven't you ever wondered why she helped you in Australia? She was already bonded to you. The bond became unbreakable when she was in her late teens. You became aware of it only after you admitted to yourself you love her."

Logan rocked back slightly in surprise. "She's my soulmate?" he croaked.

"She's your destiny," Martin corrected.