Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by Marvel Characters, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 2: Alone in the Dark

Warning: Some of this is pretty dark and may be seen as objectionable by some readers.

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They were torturing him again. He bit back a scream as he felt a strip of flesh being peeled from his back, the sickening wet sound echoing in his ears. Laughter. Cold and detached. They were enjoying this, enjoying his pain, his grunts of agony. But he wouldn't scream, he wouldn't give them that satisfaction. Fuckers. Another long strip torn away.

The room was spinning, tilting and he was suddenly falling, landing with a thud, his body jarring on impact. They were dropping him again, to see if there was a limit to the height he could fall from and survive. None so far. Faceless soldiers approached.

Gutted. Dead. Gunfire and pain. Black void.

He was in a fluid filled tank his body arching in tremendous agony. Voices. Fusion? Adamantium. Holding steady. Pain. Burning. Violation.

The helmet on his head filling his mind with savage images, death, torture, rape. He tried to fight, he wasn't this way, he wasn't an animal, he was a man. A man. A man.

Pain. Injections. Lust. Fear. Rage. Fear. Pain. Needles. Laughter. His.

Animal. Savage beast. Killer. Hunter. He gloried in it, relished the screams of his victims, the smell of their fear. His blades were sinking deep, through tissue and bone, into vital organs, a low gurgle of blood in the throat let him know his victim would soon be dead, but not too soon. Slow, unstoppable, miserable death. He drew back, savage smile, blood dripping from his hands.

Faceless victims, faceless keepers, faceless enemies. He fell to his knees. Not me, not me, not me. Not an animal. Not an animal.

Cold steel tables. Incisions, probes. Hooks and wires. Blades. Dark eyes over a surgical mask. Cornelius.

Cages and pain. Needles and pain. Blood and pain. Hate. Hurt. Fear. Hate. Hurt. Rage. Blood. Death. Blood. Screams. Blood. Death. Blood. Screams. Escape. Freedom. Caged. Locked. Tortured. The helmet. Fear. Hate. Rage. Lust.

-SNIKT-

"Logan…?" Ororo touched his shoulder. He had awakened her, thrashing in the bed, broken sounds coming from him.

Wolverine lifted his head, and for a brief moment Ororo swore his eyes flashed red in the dark. His lips curled back as he stared at her, snarling in a guttural way she had never heard before. She was reaching for him again when he grabbed her wrists painfully and pinned her to the bed forcibly. He growled at her like a demon possessed, and she could see no recognition in his eyes, no trace of the man she loved, only the wild fury of his inner beast.

Wolverine sniffed. His mind was clouded, a red haze of rage and…need. Suddenly he removed his hands from her wrists, -SNIKT- and her nightgown was gone. He restrained her hips with bruising force, holding her still as he thrust into her, tearing her. He buried himself as deeply as he could, ripping her with his savage movements. He held her firm as she tried to slide away, his thrusts violent.

Ororo's shocked cry was muffled against his shoulder. He seemed not to hear, lost in whatever darkness had claimed him well he slept. The scent of blood, mingled with her scent drove the beast in him mad with lust, feeding his red haze of need, triggering every bestial and predatory instinct he had.

Ororo struggled futilely against him. He was hurting her, his strength terrifying, he was stretching her, tearing her. "Stop," she sobbed. His hands gripped her fiercely, his teeth moving over her, everywhere it seemed, biting and marking. Low, deep growls of warning rumbled from his throat as she struggled. The more she tried to move away from him, the more brutal he became, seeking domination. He jerked her legs wider apart, baring his teeth at her as he proceeded to fuck her.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair scant seconds before he forced her head back. Pain, hot and burning sliced through her as his teeth clamped on her neck, his canines piercing deep. She cried out in protest, but he held her head to the side and pinned her down easily beneath his superior weight, keeping her open and vulnerable while he took his pleasure, his base grunts sounding in her ear. Her blood flowed freely from the wound on her neck and as he tasted the spicy essence his body drove into hers over and over, harder and deeper, harder and faster.

He had never known such pleasure. Her blood filling his mouth, her body tight and hot. The smell of sex and blood teasing his nostrils. Rapture. He was wild, seeking more, needing more, he'd never get enough of her. More. He surged harder, his fingers now locked on her hips, bruising her. Harder. More. Faster. More!

Logan no longer existed. The raging beast in his place was killing her, using her body without his usual tender care, without feeling, without love, only seeking to dominate her.

The room was blurring and Ororo knew she was weak from losing so much blood. She could feel herself slipping away, her mind and body becoming numb as her husband pounded into her, tearing at her, biting her. She accepted this from him because she knew he was not in control and she worried for him. He had endured so much, too much, pain and she knew he had tried to keep it locked inside for so long. He had walked the line between man and animal for so long, his sheer will power keeping him from falling into madness. Logan. Her love, her life, her other half. He thought himself a soulless monster, a wild beast devoid of feeling, but she knew better. He felt, felt with an intensity like no other. He had held out so long against the darkness that those Weapon X monsters had put in him, and it pained her to see him lost as he was now, trapped in his own private hell. Ororo closed her eyes, willing herself to relax, accepting him as he was.

Her fingers found the silken, sweat dampened hair at the nape of his neck, and she stroked it with familiar tenderness, forcing her own pain from her mind, focused on seeing him through. Wolverine. The wild one. Dark. Savage. Lawless and feared. Always alone. No longer, she thought. She would not let him face this alone, she would stay with him as long as she could, warding off the chill in her body and the tremors that shook her from loss of blood.

She bit her lip as his teeth sank into the tender swell of her breast, but she held back the tears. Her hands stroked his wild hair, cradling his head to her breast, giving herself to him. "I'm here…" she whispered. "I love you."

She felt him tense at the sound of her voice, but he didn't stop, still taking her with callous aggression.

"I belong… to you," she said brokenly. "And you…to me… I will not let you face the darkness alone, Logan. I am giving myself to you, husband, so do not… condemn yourself… when this is over. You have done nothing wrong." Her breathing was shallow now, making it hard to talk.

He continued to violate her, but she felt a subtle shift, like he was trying to find himself, to fight his way back to her. She moved against him slowly, trying to coax him back to her, slowing their momentum. "Can you feel me, Logan?" She was weak and lethargic but she refused to give up until he was back. She moved her hands along his shoulders, cradling his jaw, forcing his head up, meeting the molten silver of his feral gaze unflinchingly. "The darkness can't have you, Logan," she rasped. "You belong to me." He roared at her, and briefly she saw a flash of recognition. He fisted her hair, biting her shoulder. She closed her eyes, a single scalding tear slipping past. He was increasing momentum now, his grunts and pants more urgent. Using the last of her energy she whispered to him. "I am yours in all ways. You are my heart, Logan. I accept you in all forms…even this one…feel no shame, love…I am with you."

Ororo. In the deep red haze Logan heard her speaking. She sounded far away, but he heard her, calling to him, bringing him back from the dark and into the light. Finally, the beast roared, shuddering a forceful climax, emptying himself into the body in front of him. His breathing was ragged and painful, torn from deep inside.

Several minutes passed as he was slowly regaining himself, unsure of his surroundings. Logan raised his head and a sound of terrible anguish tore from his throat. Ororo lay limply on the bed, bruised and scratched, several ragged bite marks marring the creamy caramel of her skin. Blood and semen trickled down her thighs and he let out a mournful cry. He rolled her over and caught the back of her head in his palm, fearful of he way her head lolled to the side like a broken flower, revealing a fang slashed wound on her neck.

"Ro…" his voice was hoarse and raw. "Aw, God, baby." He lifted her against him, her arms falling limp at her sides. He felt his throat close, his entire being focused on the lifeless woman in his arms.

"…Logan…"

He struggled to breathe.

"Love…you…"

Christ. He felt his entire body quake with emotion. He lifted her, carrying her to their bathroom. He gave the faucet handles a viscous twist, filling the tub with hot, steamy water while he tended to the gaping wound at her neck. He was shaken by the similarity between this night and the night Shaw had attacked her. The difference being Shaw hadn't raped her-- he had. His gut clenched and he fought the urge to vomit.

Ororo jerked as he lowered her into the tub, her body raw and wounded. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms about her legs, shivering despite the steamy water. His hands closed helplessly in on themselves. He wanted to ease her, but had no idea how. His chest heaved with each labored breath he took. His beautiful, precious 'Ro and he had used her. Self loathing swelled.

"Stop it," she whispered, resting her cheek on her knees, looking at him.

"Don't." He said hoarsely. "Don't try and tell me I'm not an animal, 'Ro." He gave her a pained look. "Just look at what I did ta ya. For fuck's sake I raped you!"

"No." She shook her. "I gave myself to you."

"Yes! Only because ya knew I wouldn't stop!" He gestured to his still naked form, coated with her blood and his semen. "Look at what I did to--" He dropped to his knees. "What I did…" He lowered his head into his hands, unable to voice more. "How can you look at me?"

"Logan." She waited for him to look at her. When he didn't she repeated his name.

"I can't…" he stood stepping away from the tub. "I can't be near ya now. Not after what I did ta ya."

Ororo splashed him angrily. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare walk out that door, Logan!"

She glared at him, and he was amazed that she was completely unafraid of him. He didn't think he could stand fear in her eyes when she looked at him, but she needed to understand what a brutal monster he was. Her blue eyes fastened on him with unwavering intensity. She rose shakily to her feet, stepping from the tub, closing the small distance separating them, circling his waist with her arms, pressing her cheek to his shoulder.

"I was afraid for you, Logan," there were tears in her voice, "but not of you. We are a part of each other and I could feel your pain, your inner struggle, just as I feel you now. You are not a monster."

"Why can't you see me for what I am?" he demanded. "A fuckin' animal!"

She slapped him. Hard. "You are my husband. The man I would die for and my best friend. Don't insult my intelligence by implying I am unable to see what you are. I see you! I see your very soul! You're the jackass too wrapped up in stupid bullshit to get your head out of your ass and realize what it is you are! What WE are."

He was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. "Ororo. You don't know what you're saying…"

"Wolverine, if you question my lucidity one more time I swear to the Bright lady I will bodycheck you through a fucking wall!"

His jaw dropped. Ororo was pissed. "'Ro, I don't understand--"

"What's to understand? I love you. Period. Oh, for crying out loud, a child of five could understand this. Fetch me a child of five!" Her eyes flashed blue-white.

"How can you still love me?" he whispered.

Ororo's anger seeped from her at his forlorn look. "Wash up and carry me to bed. We'll talk up there."

He jerked. "You want to go back up there?"

"Of course I do. I need my bunny slippers."

Logan washed himself with shaking hands, still in shock over what had occurred. Ororo sat wrapped in a towel, waiting patiently. He turned off the shower, wrapping his own towel about his waist. She looked up at him expectantly. "Ready?"

"No."

"Too bad." She reached for his hand. "We face it together."

Logan lifted her carefully into his arms and she trustingly laid her head on his shoulder, her arms linking around his neck. He shook with the intensity of his love for her and she whispered soothing sounds into his ear.

At the doorway to their bedroom his steps faltered, his breathing becoming agitated. Ororo smoothed her hand along his shoulders, whispering, "In that room we celebrate our love for each other. That's the room where you read to me while I sit on your lap. In that room you sing me to sleep. Behind that door lay a thousand beautiful memories, Logan. Remember each one of them now. Remember Christmas morning? Remember Gambit running up the stairs at four in the morning, hopping into our bed like a troublesome boy, demanding to open presents. Remember? Remember picking out the carpet together? I still can't believe you talked me into blue just because you said it matched my eyes." She laughed softly. "Remember not having a bed for two days after we broke the last one?" She nuzzled his cheek. "Remember the bawdy little song we sang together after a wild night at Harry's?" She pushed open the door with her foot. The bed was in disarray, the comforter and blankets crumpled on the floor. "Remember how you held me our first night here. Remember the poem you wrote me. I never figured you for the type, but it was beautiful. In that bed we share our dreams, our hopes, our bodies and our hearts." She kissed his cheek. "Take me to our bed, husband."

Logan walked slowly across the room, his arms tightening on her as the got closer to the bed. "…'Ro…"

"I'm here. We're together."

He lowered her slowly after yanking all the covers off, leaving only a sheet and their pillows. She opened her arms. "Come to me."

He stood frozen at the bedside, staring at her, incredulous at her willingness to even be in the same room with him. She smiled gently, her eyes warming to deep cerulean. "We took vows, Logan. For better or worse. They meant something to me, how about you?"

He lowered himself to the bed, enfolding her in his muscular arms, shaking as he wept. "I'm sorry. So sorry," he said into her hair. He closed his eyes tightly, his face contorting in pain. "'Roro, I'm so sorry."

Ororo stroked his hair, holding him as her own tears flowed. She began to whisper softly to him and he recognized the poem he had written her,

"I kneel before you,

Here I am,

My heart laid bare,

You're all that I want

All that I wish to be,

When I struggle,

You are my strength,

Without you,

I can't go on,

I give myself to you,

Only sorry that I am not more,

All my anger and bitterness,

A poison to what you are,

Then night falls on me,

And I can't let go

With you I am alive,

You constantly ignore the signs,

Fight through the pain consuming me,

You cut deep,

You've laid my heart bare,

I can never walk away from you,

My life and soul are yours to command,

I sleep with your hair tangled in my fist,

Moonlight on the soft brown earth,

That's what it is,

That's what you are,

Sometimes I can barely make my way through the darkness of my heart,

Then you are there, with your beautiful sky,

The light you bring,

Making it impossible for me to hide,

I hide no more,

My heart is laid bare."

Slowly the shudders subsided and he took a deep, steadying breath. When he raised damp eyes to hers she leaned forward, kissing him softly, lovingly. "Together we can get through anything," she said. "Don't shut me out, Logan, don't push me away."

He stroked her cheek, regret in his steel eyes. "I can't take the chance of hurting you again, 'Ro."

Ororo tensed. "I love you. You don't have to face this alone. I need you. You need me."

Logan pushed her hair away from her face. "I'll go make you some tea," he murmured after a time.

She smiled softly, nodding. "That would be nice."

In the kitchen Logan stumbled against the counter, his grief taking hold. He lowered his head, gritting his teeth against the roar that dwelled in his chest. He was a mother fucker of the worst kind and she still wanted to be with him. He felt sick at what he'd done and despite her obvious forgiveness he was unable to forgive himself.

He put the kettle on, then shoved his way into the bathroom, where he was violently ill. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and slowly raised his head to the reflection in the mirror. Animal. He opened the medicine cabinet, removing one of the many perscriptions Xavier had tried on him, to help him sleep.

He returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, lifting the kettle mid-whistle, pouring its contents into her favorite jumbo mug.

"Here ya go," he said softly, his voice still gruff.

"Thanks." She took the mug and sipped slowly. "We'll be okay, Logan," she whispered.

"Sshh, darlin'. Just relax," he stroked her hair behind her ear.

She gave him a beseeching look. "Hold me?"

Logan nodded, moving to sit with his back pressed to the headboard. She moved between his legs, leaning back against him, slowly, savoring the warmth of his body and the soothing effects of the tea. He stroked her hair, murmuring quietly, encouraging her to finish her drink and rest.

Ororo's eyelids felt heavy, like they weighed a ton. She struggled to keep them up, her vision blurring. She felt Logan's lips on her cheek, felt the splash of his tears on her face. She felt him shift beneath her, laying her on the pillows, covering her in the sheet. Her heart crumbled. "You're… leaving me…aren't you…" she could barely speak she was so tired. He had put something in her tea, she realized with an agonizing jolt. "Please…stay…"

Logan watched her until she was deep asleep, her soft words echoing in his head. He couldn't stay. He couldn't put her in that kind of danger again. She deserved better, far better than he could ever be. He packed quickly, taking only some necessities and enough cash to get by for awhile from their wall safe. He stood in the doorway, staring at her over his shoulder. She looked like an angel fallen from heaven, and he was the devil, he thought furiously. "Love ya, 'Ro."

Gambit came awake in the attic loft that was once Storm's, but was now his and Ali's, when he heard the rumble of a motorcycle engine roaring to life. He walked to the balcony doors just in time to see a lone figure edge past the gates and burn rubber into the night. He gripped the railing, a feeling of dread sinking into him.

"What's wrong, Yummy?" Ali asked from the bed with a yawn.

"Everyt'in, petite. Everyt'in."

The morning light found Ororo laying in bed, eyes open, staring at her bedroom wall unblinking, laying in exactly the same position as she had been in for the past two days. Ororo felt the bed dip behind her, but didn't turn. It wasn't him.

"Come now, padnat." Gambit tugged her shoulder gently. "Time t' get up." He had gone to her immediately following Wolverine's departure, and he had been horrified at the state he found her in. Her neck had been torn open, bite marks and bruises covering every visible inch of exposed flesh, though now mostly healed he would never forget the sight. He had swore and cursed and vented, but she had only slept. He had wanted to follow Wolverine and thrash him, shove a deck of cards down his throat, beat him, shake him and make him suffer, but he had stayed with Storm, waiting for her to wake. She did so hours later as the sun reached midday. He had expected her anger and was even prepared for her tears, but what he had received was an icy stare and sullen silence. When he asked what had happened she had simply said, "He's gone," before curling on her side in a fetal position and staring at the wall, her beautiful face impassive.

Gambit snapped his fingers in front of her now, trying to gain her attention. Storm didn't even blink. No reaction at all. He glanced up through the skylight at the bright sunshine. She was repressing herself, storing everything inside in carefully compartmentalized boxes and he knew how unhealthy that was, especially for her. She needed to open up, to let it out. "C'mon, Stormy. We're worried 'bout you, chere."

"Enough of this shit," Ali's voice sounded seconds before she threw pale of icy water over her morose friend.

Storm flew up from the bed, sputtering as the freezing water dripped from her face. She fixed Alison with a frosty stare and Ali grinned cheekily at her.

"Ali, what you doin', petite?" Gambit demanded in surprise.

Instead of replying Ali reached down, picking up Ororo's fuzzy robe and holding it out to the sodden woman glaring icy fire at her. "You plan on coming back to the land of the living, Storm? Or do I bug Drake for another bucket?"

Wrenching the robe from Ali's hand Ororo glowered. "I should strike you where you stand."

"But you won't. You'd miss me."

For a moment it looked like Storm's icy shell was going to crack, her lower lip quivered slightly, but she took a slow breath, collecting herself. "Perhaps." She slid on her robe. "But I doubt it."

"Hey, Yummers, beat feet to the mansion and grab us some grub."

Gambit nodded, knowing Alison wanted a few minutes alone with Storm. He smiled his charming smile. "Any requests, Stormy?"

"Yeah. Stop calling me that ridiculous name."

"Never." He gave Alison a quick hard kiss, then was gone in a flash.

"So?" Ali crossed her bare arms.

Ororo said nothing. She turned away from Ali and picked up the mug still on the nightstand, staring at the brown tea stains on the bottom. With a wordless cry of rage she flung the mug at the wall, watching with satisfaction as it shattered. Thunder rumbled overhead. Ororo panted, trying to reign it in, but Ali wouldn't let her.

"Let it out, Storm."

"Leave it, Ali."

"No. He left you. Walked out on your vows. Abandoned you."

Ororo's eyes welled. "Shut up."

Ali shook her head. "You loved him and he left! He left you!"

Thunder rolled and the winds began to howl. Storm's eyes swirled from blue to white and she hovered in the air, her hair crackling with electricity. "Shut up, Ali!"

Ali stood her ground. "You gave him your heart and that fucker trod all over it. He's a worthless piece of womanizing shit, who walked out on you like you were nothing. Nothing to him!" Lightening flashed, sizzling in the now torrential downpour.

"Stop!" Ororo was crying now, tears coursing along her face.

"He fucking left you, Storm! He's a coward and a jerk and you're gonna let him stomp all over you, aren't you? You're just gonna lay in that bed and die. Why? Because you don't have that fucking worthless bastard hovering around?"

Ali was thrown across the room, held against the wall by powerful wind. Storm's eyes glowed brightly. Alison smirked. "So does that mean you still love him, Storm? How much? Is he worth getting out of bed for? Is he worth fighting for?"

The winds ceased and Ororo fell to the carpet, crying, her shoulders shaking with each wracking sob. "I tried to fight for him! I tried!" Lightening flashed again, bright white against the clouds swirling overhead. "Oh, Ali…I lost him…" She buried her face in her hands, screaming.

Ali knelt beside her, wrapping her arms around her and rocking with Ororo as she lamented. "I wasn't enough! I tried…oh, Ali, I miss him!"

"I know," Ali said sympathetically. "I know. Let it come, Storm."

Ororo cried harder.

"We're 'ere, padnat." Gambit was in the bedroom again, having turned back immediately upon the first rumble of thunder. He knelt on the opposite side of Storm, across from Ali, wrapping his arms around her and grasping the hand of his love. Ali met his eyes and they shared a look of tenderness and sympathy over Ororo's bent head. Their sister needed them. He kissed Storm's hair, rubbing her back with his free hand. Together the three of them sat, rocking as the rain pounded and the winds howled. Storm buried her face in Gambit's chest, clutching his shirt.

"I hate him!" she cried raggedly. "I hate him!"

Somewhere in Canada

Three days later

Wolverine snubbed his cigar out in the glass ashtray in front of him, indicating with two fingers he wanted another beer as the bartender passed. He glanced up at the small television mounted in the corner behind the bar. Although it was turned down, he could pick up the words easily.

"…and good news for the US east coast as those sudden, unexpected hurricanes seem to have finally dissipated. The US National Weather Service issued a statement claiming atmospheric anomalies as the cause for the unexpected outbreak of storms and violent weather…."

Atmospheric anomalies his ass. It was 'Ro. Wolverine ran one hand through his hair, exhaling a long, shaky breath, looking at the bar, absently flicking a couple of stray peanuts off the top. She was hurting. He had hurt her. It killed him to know that, but it was better this way then if he had stayed. He couldn't risk another night like… Christ, he couldn't even think it.

The bar tender slid his beer to him and as Wolverine reached for his wallet the gray bearded man shook his head. "On the lady." He pointed down the bar. Wolverine swiveled on his stool, looking down the bar. A sexy, very attractive brunette lifted her glass in his direction. She was well endowed and not at all shy about showing it, her red shirt revealing deep cleavage. She crossed her legs as he looked at her, making the already dangerously high skirt shift even further up her legs. She flashed him a knowing smile, and he got the impression she was used to being ogled. Wolverine turned back to the bar, tossing his bills on the counter regardless. "No thanks," he said.

The bartender looked befuddled, shaking his head and taking the money. Wolverine knew that most men would give their left nut for a woman that attractive to hit on them, but then again, most men had never had a woman like 'Ro. Just thinking of her made him ache with such fierce longing he had to forcibly refrain from allowing his claws to pop out. He finished his beer quickly, anxious to get out, back on the road.

"Hey," the brunette approached him.

Wolverine grunted at her. He stood, brushing past her.

"Hey, pal, my sister's talking ta ya." A large, meaty palm clapped on Wolverine's leather clad shoulder.

He barely turned his head, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Let go, Bub."

The man squeezed. A slow grin spread on Wolverine's face. Violence. Familiar, welcome violence. He turned, grabbing the guy's beefy wrist, twisting and snapping bone, kicking one foot in the man's gut, sending him sprawling. Two more men were on him before the first had hit the floor. With effortless skill Wolverine made quick work of the other two. As the men lay bloody on the floor, crawling away from him, he said, "C'mon, that's it?"

"Not quite." Wolverine glanced over his shoulder. The bartender was leveling a sawed off shout gun at his head. "Say yer sorry ta my boys."

"They started it, Pops. If anyone should be sorry it's you fer raising such blubbering pussies."

"Why you--"

-SNIKT-

The barrel clanged to the floor. "You really should watch who ya point that at." Wolverine strolled from the bar casually, lighting another cigar. The brief tussle did nothing to take the edge off his pain. Fuck, he missed her. He made his way to his bike, visualizing the first time he had seen Storm on it, her long nightdress around her thighs, arched back, smiling. He had taken her for their first ride that very night, and they had shared their first kiss as well. He had loved her even then, he knew. She had drawn him to her, and he had been helpless against it. He heard her smoke and satin voice in his ear. You are wild, untamed, a part of nature. Can't you feel the answering call in me?

His jaw clenched tightly. Yes, he had felt it. She was uncaring that he had the senses-- and the nature-- of an animal, she had loved him anyway. Part of him knew that was one of the reasons she did love him. He had reveled in it, in her. Then he had betrayed her trust and used her in the worst possible way. He had gone and made a clusterfuck of everything they had built together. He loved her too much to risk that again. He loved her enough to let her go, even though it was killing him. Huh, go figure, the most dangerous mutant on the planet, possessing a body that could heal virtually any disease or illness, damn near indestructible, a merciless killer, a soulless warrior, done in by heartache. Fuckin' ironic.

Xavier Institute

"Uuhhgn, Gambit. Oh, my Goddess! Uhhggn." Ororo arched beneath him, biting her lip, moaning. "Harder."

Gambit chuckled, his breath teasing her ear. "Are you always dis tight, chere?" He moved against her. "'Ow's dat?"

Another moan. "Better."

Gambit shifted, brushing a kiss against her temple. "You like a challenge, non?"

Click! "Or maybe she just likes pain." Ali said from the doorway.

Gambit cocked his head. "Ali, 'ow long you been der?"

"Long enough. Smile." She held up a camera. Gambit grinned. Ali removed the Polaroid waving it in the air, grinning.

"Ali!" Ororo let out a breath, relaxing the curve of her back, wrestling her ankle from Gambit's hand. They had been in the gym for hours, working out, climbing the peg wall, doing gymnastics and practicing with bo staffs when she had developed a massive leg cramp.

Alison strolled over to the mat. She glanced at the picture in her hand and her smile turned wicked. "Oh, boy. You two had better be nice to me or I'm scanning this and e-mailing every student here."

"Lemme see," Gambit rose. He took the photo from Ali. "We make a good lookin' couple, Stormy." He turned the picture so she could see.

"Ali!" In the photo Gambit had one of Storm's bare legs over his shoulder, leaning into her, his face nearly touching hers as she arched against him in what appeared to be a very provocative way.

"Hey, you're just lucky I'm a very understanding best friend." Ali said mock serious. "I mean, I come in here and you and my Yummy are rolling around on the floor all grunting and groaning."

"Har-har." Storm rolled to her side, lifting her cramped leg, raising it in the air and pulling at it with her hand, stretching the knotted muscles. "Aren't you supposed to be training with Kitty?"

"We were, but then she spotted Kurt with Amanda and off she went."

Strom rocked to her feet, walking to the cooler and grabbing a water. "Where is she now?"

"Her room I think."

"I'll go check on her." She tossed Gambit a bottle as she left. "Thanks for the workout, Yummy."

"Hey!" Ali called after her laughing. She was caught off guard by Gambit's strong arms circling her waist and tugging her down to the blue floor mat.

"Wan' workout wit' me, petite bella?"

Ali arched one brow. "What do you have in mind?"

"A little of dis," Gambit's lips grazed her neck, making her shiver. "And maybe a little of dis," his tongue swirled in her ear. "And definitely some of dis," his hands stroked the underside of her breasts.

Ali was lost as always, his devil eyes making her tremble with desire. "I think I can find the time," she murmured.

Gambit leaned back. "You only t'ink?"

"Shut up." Ali grabbed the back of his head and brought his face down to hers for a powerful kiss.

"Mmm, Ali, do you know what you do t' dis Cajun? How much I wan' you?"

"Show me."

"Kitty? You in there?" Storm knocked gently on the wood with her still gloved knuckles.

There was a soft sniffle, then, "Hang on." The door slowly opened and a bleary eyed Kitty waved Storm in. Storm had been in Kitty's room several times and often teased her over the ever changing 'poster-boy' on her walls. There were none up now.

"Ali tells me you're having a rough day." Storm flopped into one of the two comfy beanbag chairs on the floor.

"Yeah." Kitty took the other. She gave a watery sigh.

Storm waited.

"I saw Kurt with his new girlfriend Amanda."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Kitten, but didn't you end things with Kurt."

Kitty frowned. "Yeah. But, but that was when--"

"When you thought Bobby Drake was interested in you?"

Kitty looked at the floor. "Yep. How could I have been so stupid, Storm? I mean I had this great guy and I ruined everything because Mr. Hot'n Popular looked my way." She kicked one of her stuffed bears.

"Easy, Kitten, let's not abuse Mr. Wiggles unnecessarily."

Kitty wiped her nose with a tissue. "I miss him."

Storm felt her insides tighten, but shook off the feeling of loneliness Kitty's three little words had evoked. "He was very hurt, Kitty," Ororo said gently, remembering the talks she and Kurt had shared immediately following his and Kitty's breakup. It had taken several conversations to convince him he was not unattractive, that he was a worthy boyfriend and that he shouldn't leave the Black team.

"He seems to be past that." Kitty grumbled.

"Is Amanda so bad?" Storm asked.

Kitty began to cry again. "No. That's just the thing. She's not bad. She's nice and she's kind and she's so pretty."

Storm pulled several more Kleenex from the box on the floor, handing them Kitty.

"Dank you." Kitty mumbled, blowing her nose. "Oh, Storm, what do I do?"

Storm smiled sadly. "You miss him, and you love him. Let him know you still care about him, but don't sabotage his new relationship." Storm took a deep breath. "It has to be his choice on whether he returns to you or not."

Kitty raised her honey eyes. "We're not just talking about Kurt now, are we?"

"No, I suppose we're not."

"Me and Kurt were tight, but we were no where near what you and Wolverine were, uh, are…?"

Storm left the question in the air.

"Love is love, Kitten, regardless of length and duration. It's intensity and merit can't be compared to another's. Love is unique to the individual. What you feel for Kurt is no less valuable than what I feel for Wolverine. It is the circumstances that are different."

Kitty leaned forward, pushing her chestnut hair behind her ears. "So, you're just going to let him go?"

"I didn't let him go, Kitty. He left. That's the difference."

"Why'd he leave?"

Storm shook her head, unwilling to speak of the reason behind Logan's departure. "Let's just say he believes a lie."

"Oh." Kitty tilted her head. "But you still love him, right?'

Storm was silent for a long minute. "Yes. I love him."

"Is he coming back?"

"I don't think so, Kitten."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"Love sucks."

Storm laughed. "Eloquently put."

"I can't believe he's gone. Just up and left. I mean what the--? A couple of years ago I'd have expected to wake up one day and Wolverine to be gone. Happened more than once, Cyclops used to crab all the time about how unreliable he was. But after he married you, I don't know, I guess I just figured he'd be more…stable?" She shook her head. "He really loved you," Kitty said quietly. "I mean really. The way he looked at you… Kurt and I would talk about you guys, saying we'd never seen such happiness. I saw Wolverine torn apart when you were locked in that stasis thingy. You left him then, didn't you? I mean, in a way. But he went after you, because he would rather be dead than lose you. That's what he felt. I heard Jean telling Scott that she'd never felt such emotion before. Musta been something for her to admit that, right?"

Storm slowly got to her feet. "Since you seem to have moved past your anger I'm going to go. I hope our talk has helped. I expect you to train when I say train, Shadowcat. You're a valuable member of my team, I don't want emotional jargon clouding your performance. Okay?"

Kitty nodded. "Ok."

Storm bent and hugged the younger girl. "Good. Now go clean up and get to the library."

"The library? Why?"

"I just assigned Kurt's class a research assignment on plants indigenous to the Galapagos islands. Maybe you could help him with his paper."

Kitty beamed. "Thanks, Storm. For everything." She phazed through the floor into the bathroom below

"You too, Kitten."

Canada

He was running. Through the woods, branches slapping his face, cutting his chest. He was naked. Escaped. He'd finally escaped. He heard the dogs. The river. Get to the river and don't look back. Cold. It was winter. He tore the tubes from his arms, wincing as the hooks tore skin. He'd heal.

Over there!

Spotlight. Fuck. Move! Snow and ice crunched beneath bare feet. A dog behind him, lunging. -SNIKT- Crimson on white. Scarlet snow. Keep moving, get to the river.

The water was cold. Sucking at him. Grabbing at him, pulling him under. Freezing. Wasn't sure how long he could survive freezing. Huh. Must not have run that test.

Falling. Darkness. Warmth. A fire. A blanket. A woman's voice. Dark hair and brown eyes. Void. Falling. Laughter. Soft and sweet. Same voice.

What's your name?

Kissing. Touching. Tangled blankets. Happiness.

Betrayal.

Guns. Shooting him. Laughing. Weapon X.

Blood. -SNIKT- Blood.

Dark hair, brown eyes, throat slit.

Escape.

Logan jerked up in bed, heart pounding, covered in sweat. He swore, tossing the sheets back, getting to his feet. He walked to the motel room window, pushing the faded yellow curtain aside, watching the rain slide down the window, reflecting moonlight rainbows on the ugly carpet. He pressed his forehead to the glass. What the hell was wrong with him? Had he really killed so many? He knew the answer to that. Yes.

He moved to the small kitchen, running the cold water, splashing his face. He opened the fridge, pulled out a beer and sat at the rickety table. It wasn't long before the bottle was empty.

He was restless, anxious, agitated. He scratched the back of his knuckles furiously. He glanced at the bed and for a moment he thought he saw moonlight tresses flowing across his pillow. He closed his eyes as a wave of anguish washed through him. He missed her so much, wanted nothing more than to hop on his bike and go back to Xavier's, pull her into his arms and never, ever let her go.

Logan rose, walking to the foot of the bed where he opened his black duffel. He pulled out the pillow case he had stuffed inside, bringing it to his face, inhaling deeply, picking up her scent. Soft, subtle, pure, like 'Ro. He held it to him as he crawled back into bed, clutching it to his chest, torturing himself with memories of her as he fell back asleep.

Logan! Can I open my eyes?

Not yet.

Where are we?

Sshh.

He tugged the blindfold off, enjoying her gasp of delight.

Logan?

Horses cantered in front of them, bold and beautiful.

Ya said ya never rode before.

This is amazing.

Pick one.

I don't know. You choose for me.

He chose a beautiful white mare for her. He helped her mount and lead the horse around the fenced in field, letting her get a feel for the animal. Ororo was a natural, as he'd known she would be. They spent the entire day riding, followed by an evening picnic and a starlit stroll.

I love ya, darlin'.

I love you, too, Logan. Always.

Oh, God, baby.

Yes. Ohhh, yes!

Ororo smiled up at him, her lips parted as her breath panted out, her eyes darkening to sapphire gems.

Touch me.

Her hands traced his hard body.

Logan…

…

Logan! Stop!

…

Please. Stop.

Blood. Fear. Blood. Pain.

-SNIKT- White hair, blue eyes, throat slit.

"Jesus fuckin' christ!" Logan barely made it to the sink before he emptied the beer he'd drank less than thirty minutes ago from his stomach. He sat on the floor with a thud, winded, with his heart pounding. No way he was going back. He wouldn't risk hurting her again, no matter how much his heart and soul screamed in protest. No matter how the beast inside howled for its mate. "Ororo…" He let his head fall back against the cabinet.