Chapter 18: Frosty Reception

Flames leaped upward, toward the sky.

Standing this close to the fire made the heat all that much more intense, but Logan welcomed it. The heat from the flames burned the cold rage out of his soul, cleansed it once and for all, just as he'd just cleansed the world of the little blotch of darkness walking around on it.

He smoked his cigar fiercely, taking long drags on it and letting the smoke fill his lungs. MacLeish. Damn the man. With all the stuff going on at the mansion, he hadn't needed yet another complication; and an assassin Logan had thought dead for the last ten years suddenly showing up definitely qualified as a complication. Well, he'd taken care of that.

Logan tossed the butt of his cigar into the fire, watched the flames instantly consume it, and tuned his back on the pyre. "Good riddance," he growled angrily, and yanked open the door of the battered old Jeep he'd found behind MacLeish's cabin. His bike had been destroyed, and hey, MacLeish was certainly not going to be needing it anymore, so…he shrugged as he climbed in. The keys dropped obligingly into his lap when he lowered the driver's side visor, and he grinned as he stuck the key in the ignition. The sound of the old engine starting up mingled with the sound of crackling flames…and, faintly, over the sounds of the fire, he heard fire engine sirens coming closer.

He peeled out of there, taking an indirect route out of the immediate area. By the time the fire department got the flames put out, there would be few recognizable features on the body in the middle of that blaze. But Logan had left MacLeish's ID and wallet in there with him; they'd identify him. And after they did, they wouldn't look too hard at all for the killer. MacLeish was wanted in a long string of countries for an equally long string of murders. Assassinations. He killed for money, and as long as the pay was good enough he'd kill anyone. Whoever eliminated him would be doing Interpol a favor, and prevent another file having to be opened on another of MacLeish's assassinations.

Yeah. Which begs the question; who's he got this time? Logan frowned. He usually don't show himself till he's got plans already underway, and if I know him, he's probably got several up his sleeve. So…what plan was he hatchin' at the moment, an' why show himself ta me now?

Still pondering, he turned off the main road and took the roads leading back to the mansion.

The question was still bothering him much later, as he was toweling off after his shower. And he couldn't sleep while he was this distracted.

He yanked on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, and headed downstairs for a beer from the fridge. Everyone was off doing their own thing, and there were no telepaths currently in the mansion to be poking around in his head. He liked that; he liked having his privacy.

Screw that. I'd give my privacy away fer Jeannie an' ol' One Eye back, he thought as he pried the cap off a bottle of Corona. Bobby's favorite, not his. He liked Molson's, but the last time Bobby and Sam had made a liquor store run, they hadn't thought to get any of Logan's favorite. Oh well. He tossed his head back, letting the bitter taste of the beer run over his tongue and down his throat to his stomach. Much as I hate to admit it, I want Cyke back. An' Jeannie. I ain't cut out fer this leadership crap. An' 'Ro ain't doin' all that good either. Dammit, I miss everyone. Even that damned Cajun. He quickly steered his mind away from that line of thought; the less time spent on that topic the better.

Instead, he returned to worry over MacLeish's motives, his mind refusing to leave it alone, like a dog worrying a bone. What the hell was he doin' here? Why here, why now? I know I'm his target this time, but who else was he after now?

Logan knew MacLeish's modus operandi by now. Pick the assignment, stake out the target. Get friendly with the target. Find out who was most important to the target. Then nab that person, and send a ransom letter to the target: You in exchange for your loved one. They came. They always came. The heart could be a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and MacLeish's hands were definitely the worst. You didn't want to wind up on the wrong side of the guy.

So. Who was here that MacLeish had gotten close to? It had been ten long years since MacLeish had surfaced on Logan's 'radar', but he didn't think the man would have changed his way of doing things. Whatever works, right? And so far his usual way of getting his victims had been working. Getting close, then arranging for a kidnapping…

Kidnapping! Logan jerked bolt upright in his seat as the realization hit him. He mighta been tryin' ta find out who's currently the most important person in my life right now to me. And he mighta been plannin' on goin' after…who? Who're the most important people in my life right now? Jeannie. But she's in Alaska with Cyke. Ororo, but she's here. I smelled her scent in her attic room. And…Jubilee.

The more the thought about it, the more apprehensive he got. Jubilee. Young and vulnerable enough for MacLeish; and Logan already knew Sean and Emma had missed Jubilee's kidnapping the first time by Bastion…would they notice if she went missing, kidnapped by MacLeish's operatives? If she was hanging out with her friends at the mall, and got separated, would they notice before it was too late? Was MacLeish's operative sitting out there somewhere with Jubilee tied up, waiting for MacLeish to call with instructions on what to do with the 'package'? The possibilities were endless, and none of them were comforting. In fact, the more he thought about it, he more paranoid he got.

"Is it not a little early for you to be indulging, Logan?" came a quiet voice from the doorway, and he looked up to see Ororo standing in the doorway. "It is the middle of the afternoon, after all."

"Ain't never too early for a beer, 'Ro," Logan quipped as he smiled at her. She smiled back, her blue eyes twinkling. "Hey. You got things here? I gotta take a run up to Massachusetts."

Her smile disappeared. "Is something wrong with Jubilee?"

He shook his head. "No. Maybe. I don't know. I ran into an old…acquaintance," the way the word came out made it sound like a curse, "an' he made me start thinkin'." He briefly outlined his encounter with MacLeish. After facing evil aliens like the Brood, and those bent on destroying the galaxy, a petty assassin and criminal like MacLeish was small potatoes…but nothing was small to Logan when it came to protecting the people he cared about. And right now he was very concerned about a vulnerable young girl at a Massachusetts boarding school. Especially after Sean's letter, which had been sitting on his dresser for the last two weeks, mutely accusing him of not having done anything yet by its mere presence.

Ororo sat down at the kitchen table as he talked, and when he finally fell silent, she said quietly, "If you leave now you should be able to get there by early tomorrow morning."

He grinned up at her. "Thanks, 'Ro. Are you sure…?"

She sighed. "I will manage. I am worried about Jubilee as well. We have not heard anything from her, Sean or Emma lately."

Logan paused by her chair on his way out of the kitchen. "…'Ro? Thanks. I won't be gone long. Just wanna make sure she's okay." He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently, once, briefly, before leaving the kitchen. He stopped in his room just long enough to throw a change of clothes in his duffle bag, and went out to the garage. Soon afterwards Ororo heard the roar of the Jeep as it faded off into the distance.

The school was quiet. Emma had gone to bed, and Sean was on his way, striding down the hall toward the stairs that would take him to his room, when the bell at the front door dinged. Frowning, wondering who that could be, he pressed the intercom button. "Who is it?"

"S' me, Irish. Logan," came the unmistakable gravelly voice.

"Logan!" Sean quickly yanked open the front door, admitting Logan carrying his bag slung over one shoulder. "If I'd known ye were comin' I'd have told Jubilee…she'd have stayed awake tae see ye."

"Jubilee, is she okay? She still here?" Logan decided to skip the hunt and tree the prey.

Sean frowned. "Aye, she is. Saw her head up tae her room a couple hours ago. Why?"

"It's a long story." Logan shifted the duffle bag on his shoulder. "Got somewhere where we can talk? Got a bone to pick with you…"

Sean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. "Aye, well… I been expectin' this. Cannae say I blame ye, either. Come this way, my office is over here…" he closed the door and led Logan down the hall.

Logan walked in first and dropped the bag on the floor, then turned to face Sean, anger now evident in his eyes. Safe in the privacy of the office, he didn't bother to restrain himself. "How in hell does Jubilee go missin' fer a whole friggin' month and you and Frost never noticed! Chuck left ya two responsible for her, an' look at what happened!"

Sean ran ha hand through his flaming hair and sighed, staring at his slippers. "I cannae blame ye for bein' upset, Logan. I been asking myself that a lot, since she came back tae us. Things were hectic then, and a lot o' things were happening. Mondo and Black Tom had me all wrapped up—"

"Don't try t' make excuses, Irish," Logan warned. There was a quiet shhhk as his claws slid out.

"…Things had me all wrapped up, but it doesnae excuse the fact that when the kids came back we didn't realize th' lass was missin'. And when we did, we sat on our arses an' twiddled our thumbs wonderin' what tae do 'bout it 'stead o' callin' ye or the rest o' the X-Men tae let ye all know tae look out fer her. I cannae make an excuse, Logan. All I can say is I'm sorry." Sean was clearly distressed.

Logan looked at Sean, and the anger he'd been carrying around for his old teammate dissipated. His claws slid back into his forearms. "Ah, she's safe now, Irish. All we can do now is concentrate on her recovery. A lot o' stuff happened tae her back there in the Hulkbuster base, an' none o' it was good. Things were very unsettled at the mansion; Bastion stripped it o' every stick o' furniture, all our clothes and stuff was gone, an' for the first few days Jubilee slept on the stolen Zero Tolerance cargo transport cause we just didn't have nowhere else to let her sleep. And she needed it, bad."

Sean nodded sympathetically. "For th' first couple o' days after she came back the wee lass did a lot o' sleeping. Worn out, she was, and exhausted. And too thin. She's started gaining the weight back, but she's still not healthy. And her spirits seem somewhat dampened." He sighed. "And tae tell ye the truth, Logan, I'm nae so sure that she might not be better of with ye, no matter how things are down there in New York. Emma is—"

He broke off as a piercing scream echoed through the school. Logan sprang up out of his chair, heading for the door before Sean was even out of his seat. "It's Jubilee!"

"The lass has nightmares," Sean said tersely as he ran to overtake Logan. " And Emma doesnae handle them well. This way," he said, taking the stairs two at a time and leading Logan at full speed down the hall toward a knot of students huddled in the doorway. Logan smelled Jubilee's scent, heavily laced with the stink of fear, just before she screamed out again, incoherent with terror. Then Emma's voice, drowning out Jubilee's. "Jubilee, wake up!" Jubilee just screamed.

Logan shoved his way through the knot of students, just in time to see Emma literally shake Jubilee. "JUBILEE, I SAID WAKE UP!" And she brought her hand up and slapped the screaming, sobbing girl hard enough to leave a red handprint on Jubilee's pale cheek.

A roar of rage filled the room, and suddenly Emma was hurtling backwards, swept off Jubilee by a raging blur. In the span of time between one heartbeat and the next, she found herself pinned to the wall by a strong hand wrapped around her throat—and another hand, this one sporting three adamantium claws, was only a millimeter from her eyes.

"Don't," said the growling voice of the man who held her pinned. "Don't ya dare lay a hand on Jubes. How the hell…where do you get off abusin' yer students? How the hell do ya justify that? She's been hurt enough already, Frost!"

Emma couldn't say anything; the hand around her throat prohibited speech. She spoke telepathically. Logan, I was only trying to wake her up. Her nightmares become extremely violent; if left unchecked she could injure herself.

"Yer a telepath, wake her up that way. You don't gotta hit her to wake her up!" His hand tightened around Emma's neck. She gurgled, her hands coming up to tug ineffectually at the fingers clamped around her neck.

Sean stepped forward. "Logan, let Emma go—"

Logan growled, and the claws swung away from Emma's eyes to point at Sean's. His other hand never relaxed its grip on the former White Queen's throat, however. "Don't get me mad at ya too, Irish," he threatened. "This is what you meant when you said Emma wasn't handlin' Jubilee right, wasn't it? How could ya just stand there an' let her abuse Jubilee like this—"

He was distracted by the sound of another whimper from Jubilee, who had curled up on the floor in a miserable ball, still caught in the grip of her nightmare. Logan's anger vanished, replaced by concern for her. The other kids, standing in the doorway, were staring with wide eyes, but they hadn't dared step into the room, not with Violence Personified threatening both their teachers.

"Ah, you ain't worth wastin' time on." Logan released Emma, turning away from her as she slid down the wall to sit limply on the floor, her hands coming up to massage the handprint around her throat. Sean sidestepped around Logan, carefully, and went to her, helping her stand.

He knelt beside Jubilee, taking her gently in his arms. The handprint was only momentary; there would be no bruise…but he still hadn't liked the sight or sound of Emma's hand impacting Jubilee's cheek. He cradled her upper body in his arms, his hand coming up to gently caress Jubilee's cheek. "Come on now, Jubes. Yer safe. Wake up."

Jubilee's eyelids twitched, and then popped open. For a moment she tensed, blinking her gritty eyes, rubbing at them to try and clear them so she could see who was holding her. When she saw who it was…

"Wolvie?" her voice was soft. "Is it you? You didn't forget about me?" She swallowed hard, and said even softer, "You're not still mad at me for telling Bastion?"

Logan felt his heart contract. She really thought she'd been sent away because they were mad at her? Hadn't he told her they weren't? Hadn't Jean? "No, Jubes," he said as gently as he could. "Ain't been mad at ya at all, darlin'. Just thought maybe you'd be better off here than back at the mansion."

Jubilee hid her face in his shirt and started to cry. "I was so afraid you guys were all mad at me…Jean said you weren't, and you said you weren't, but I got sent back up here anyway and I thought it was because you guys didn't want me around anymore…Wolvie, I missed you… I wanted to stay so badly, but Jean said it was best…"

Logan hugged her tight for a moment, smelling her tears as they dampened the front of his shirt, the scent of her sweat and the remnants of terror left from her dream still strong, but fading. She felt so fragile in his arms, so vulnerable…

Cyke an' Jeannie left 'Ro an' me in charge. That means we make the decisions. If I wanna bring Jubes back cause she ain't settlin' in, I can. Aloud he said to her, "Pack yer bags. We're goin' home." Oh, that sounded so good. Home. Back where he could keep an eye on her. Not because of MacLeish (the assassin was now no more than a memory) but because Jubilee needed to be where she felt safe so she could start to heal emotionally, and the mansion (and himself) was more a home to her than any other place on earth.

"Really?" Jubilee looked up at him. "I can go home?"

"Yes. We're gonna go home 'til you feel ready to come back. I ain't gonna hurry you away this time." That had probably caused her insecurity in the first place, thinking they were upset with her and didn't want her around anymore. Jean meant well, but…

"Hold on," Emma rasped as she stood up, shaking off Sean's hand. "She was entrusted to my care. She needs to have my permission to go—"

"Emma, let th' lass go," Sean warned, seeing the feral light in Logan's eyes. Too late. Logan took two quick steps toward her, his claws popping out as he moved, until their sharp edge dimpled the skin of her throat just slightly. Not enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to make his point.

"You were sayin'?" Logan's eyes had an unpleasant, feral glitter in them.

"You may go, Jubilee," Emma said quickly. "Let me know when you're ready to come back to school, and I'll send my car to pick you up." As quickly as she could and still retain her dignity, she retreated from Jubilee's room, followed by Sean. Her eyes looked somewhat unfocused, and by the look of Sean's sudden squirming, she was having some private words with him telepathically. Logan ignored that as he reached for Jubilee's room door. "Show's over, kids. Go back to bed." He closed the door firmly, and turned to Jubilee, who was already diving under her bed for the battered duffle bag she kept for overnight trips.

End Notes:

The assassin MacLeish is mentioned in Maverick #4 and Wolverine#119-122, but since Jubilee didn't appear in any of them, I decided I could get by with simply mentioning what has gone on with Logan while Jubilee was up at the Academy.

Someone mentioned that the story seemed to be 'putting along with no end in sight'. Since this is only one storyline in a comic series, it technically doesn't have an end. Marvel never wrote any sort of resolution for Jubilee post Operation Zero Tolerance: so I wrote this to fill in the gaps. There are only two more chapters to go, and then I'll be making a few corrections to details in 'How Far' to tie this story into the Jaenelle-verse (thank you, Ellie!) Think of this as the 'How Far' series.

There's only two more chaps left in this story; hang in there! And thanks so much for reading!