Nothing much to say this time other than:

Thanks again to all of you who've read my story; double-thanks to all of the reviewers! Everyone has been so nice and this is--without a doubt--the best Fanfic I've written so far. It would not be such a success without all of you guys. I feel like I gush all the time, but it does mean a lot to me.

Enjoy,

--P.

Marrow tenses.

She's watched him fight and she's watched over twenty of her fellow soldiers fall dead on his blades. None of them were a match. Those that did manage to land a blow only angered him more. Marrow knows the man is fast. She knows he heals faster than she does, quite a feat considering the woman's supercharged metabolism.

Marrow's fingers tighten around the bone daggers she carries in each hand, blade down like some sort of assassin. She's watched him and she knows how he'll react. If Marrow runs in from behind, hands raised to strike, the man with the claws will disembowel her. If she attacks head on, his claws will rip her daggers apart, break her defense, and he'll tear her to pieces.

I need to do this quick. She thinks. He heals faster, but there's no way he moves faster than me. No one is faster than me. Move in. Cut him. Cut him until he can't be cut anymore. No one can heal when they have no more blood left inside.

She sees her chance. He's turned, eyeing the steel man as he finishes pounding a few more of Marrow's comrades into the ground. She's upwind. The sounds of the battle block out the noise of her footfalls as Marrow launches herself forward, gracefully clearing rocks and covering yards of ground in barely a moment. She hurls the daggers in her hands with sinisterly accurate aim.

Wolverine doesn't notice the blades until they are buried in the backs of his knees. He sinks to the ground with a howl of pain and rage.

Marrow is above him now, two new bone knives already wrenched from the supply on her back. He's at her stomach level, still facing away from her. Before Wolverine can turn to look, the armor-clad woman pulls his head back and slits his throat twice, from two different directions. There's an arterial spray and a sickening gurgling sound.

A roar causes Marrow to look up from her carnage. The blue-haired beast man is diving towards her, claws and teeth bared.

"Fool!" Marrow sneers, and uses her victim as a springboard. She backflips well out of the attacking beast's range and sends the bleeding man flopping painfully onto the ground at his feet.

"Young lady," The beast rumbles from deep in his chest, standing protectively over his fallen colleague. "You will sincerely regret what you have done."

"Hold on fur ball."

Marrow hisses. Wolverine is already rising to his feet. The blood has stopped flowing from his neck and he's cracking his knuckles. You knew it would be more difficult than that. She reminds herself.

"We should take her together." the beast purrs.

Wolverine shakes his head. "This one's mine McCoy."

"But--"

"Sit this one out, damn it."

Marrow inhales deeply, concentrating on her body. She feels the skin start to split painfully around her knees, shins, and ribcage, plates of bone pushing to the surface and forming rows of flexible armor over her vital organs and ligaments. "Better listen to him, fleabag. You'd hate to end up a rug, wouldn't you?" She snarls through clenched teeth. A thick slab of bone juts out from her brow, shielding her eyes like a knight's visor and sending a trickle of blood down Marrow's face.

"She's all yours." The beast concedes, turning away from Logan and redirecting his attention to Marrow's brethren.

Wolverine cracks his neck with a quick and confident motion. He still hasn't drawn his claws. "You wanna do this right, or you wanna keep on playing dirty tricks? It's not very nice to stab people from behind."

Marrow arches her back, preparing herself for what's to come. "Sure… since it's just you and me, let's do it the old fashioned way--gah!" She can't conceal a scream of pain as four pairs of wing-like spires spurt from her shoulders and back. Flesh and fabric rip apart as the woman's forearms become razor-lined weapons unto themselves.

"Just like a woman to spend an hour getting ready before a fight."

"Come on then!" She snarls, looking like some horror from an H. R. Giger creation.

With an ominous metallic SNIKT! Wolverine extends his adamantium claws; he takes a fighting stance, claws up, body slightly turned. The man's eyes are locked on Marrow's. "You lead, darlin'."

Marrow charges, a bone dagger flying out at Wolverine's face before the man even sees her draw it. His claws move; he blocks, and the dagger shatters on the indestructible metal, but Marrow is on the ground, sliding like a baseball player towards the man's exposed underside. Dual kicks to his knees send him down to her level, and Marrow throws herself upwards as Wolverine falls. The spires on her back catch at his exposed flesh and tear his face apart.

He roars in pain and sends a claw outwards, it buries itself in Marrow's shoulder, easily cutting through her armor like soft brie.

"Bastard!" She howls.

"Bitch!" Is his reply.

The combatants separate in a flash, leaving identical trails of blood in their wakes. Marrow holds her shoulder, feeling the bones knit slowly--impossibly slow considering the blinding speed at which Wolverine's face is closing up, hiding the exposed bits of adamantium skull.

"You go for my knees one more time…"

"And what? I'm going to regret it?" Her shoulder isn't healed. It would take an hour to be at top condition again, and she doesn't have an hour. However, it's healed enough that she can ignore. She can ignore the pain enough inflict it back tenfold on her opponent. "You're pathetic."

"I'm not some madman's pawn."

"The daring are always mad in the eyes of the weak!"

He chuckles at that. "Pointy and poetic, you've got it all don't you?"

Marrow grins. "You'll find I'm full of surprises."

It's Wolverine's turn to attack, moving in on the woman feinting to the left and then lashing out with a sweeping lateral strike aimed at her wounded shoulder. Marrow steps back, brings her wounded arm up, and blocks his strike; her bladed forearm meeting the soft flesh of his. There's a shriek of pain from both of the warriors. Wolverine makes to dig his claws into her chest, but she catches his neck with her hand, finger bones lengthen with a snap, and she pulls back a handful of flesh.

A kick to the gut sends the man, sprawling and bleeding, falling to the ground yet again. He can't speak. She's ripped out his vocal chords. The minor victory comes at a price to Marrow, however. She's certain her shoulder is dislocated now. Popping it into place helps, offers some relief, but the arms is only going to get worse and she has an obvious handicap now.

Wolverine spits up blood, his neck closing and chords returning. "You… are so… dead…"

Marrow slings a dagger his way, but he blocks it with a claw from his seat on the ground. Wolverine stands, blocking another one of Marrow's thrown daggers.

"That all you're gonna do now? Scared or something?"

She roars, "Shut up!" and charges Wolverine again, leaping high into the air. "You don't know anything!" There's blinding pain in her shoulder, but Marrow ignores it. While in mid flight she rips the two longest and sharpest bone sabers from her back and brings them down with all the fury of her might and gravity combined. With a jarring collision, the swords bury themselves in Wolverine, stopping only when meeting the metal surrounding his bones. He bellows in pain again, almost losing his footing.

Marrow coughs once; chokes back a sob. She's landed fully on the man's claw. It's fist-deep in her chest.

Both fighters are still standing, locked together by their weaponry. Slowly, Marrow's grip on her bone sabers loosens. She lets go, sliding off of Wolverine's claw and sinking to her knees at his feet. She looks up, her vision is swimming; she could be tearing up.

The man steps back, pulls the sabers out of his body, steadies himself, and in a few moments he's not even bleeding anymore. "You did good." He says, his voice completely devoid of its earlier mockery. Wolverine's face is placid, eyes soft, as if he's looking at a friend. "You did real good, darlin'."

"You… shut up." Marrow breathes, but only barely. She can hardly manage anything other than a slow hiss afterwards. She tastes the iron of her own blood and feels the heat of it leaving her mouth. Marrow coughs again, sputters, and falls backwards, her bone spikes keeping her in a somewhat sitting position. Her head rolls backwards; eyes on the sky.

Wolverine sheathes his claws and turns to rejoin the fight with the others. Somewhere overhead he can hear Storm stirring up a tornado. In the distance, he can hear the clanking of Colossus's fists.

"I'm… sorry." Sarah chokes out. "I'm sorry I kept… hitting your knees."

"S'alright. You had your reasons."

"I don't hate you…"

"I don't hate you, either." He sighs. "We've all got to do what we think is right."

Above her, Sarah sees the moon and the stars. Every so often a cloud--summoned by the weather witch--passes over, but those clouds quickly dissipate and the moon returns. It feels to Sarah like she stares up at that impossibly beautiful sky for days, but in truth it's only a matter of moments. Her vision wavers--she can feel her eyes growing heavier.

Something shimmering and white catches her attention, and as the corners of her vision fade to black, Sarah can just make it out. It's an angel, beautiful and blonde, flying directly overhead. She smiles. It seems funny to her that he'd still come, even after all the pain and suffering she'd caused; all the death. It seems funny to Sarah that an angel would still come to take her home. The pain in her chest turns into a subtle sting; then, a glow. "He's beautiful." She whispers. "He's so beautiful."

Wolverine walks over; he looks down at the woman. Her eyes don't focus on him. "What'd you say?"

"I wonder... would he recognize me?" Barely any sound leaves Sarah's lips at all.

"What are you saying?" Wolverine kneels next to her.

"Do... you think I'm pretty?" Her voice wavers, threatens to give out.

Wolverine looks at her boney brow; the sharp spines protruding from her collarbone and shoulders. He runs a gloved hand through her short red hair, thinning in places where the bone plates protrude through the hairline. "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever fought."

"Thank you."