Before Scott could open his mouth to ask for more specifics, they began to hear the clomping of footsteps getting closer, and doing it quickly. Even worse, it sounded like they were actually being covered at both ends of the hall, and Scott wasn't sure which way he should stay focused on. Kitty's eyes darted back and forth, and Logan could smell the anxiety coming off of her, but she stood her ground with them. Within seconds the first waves appeared, every soldier holding an automatic rifle, their uniformity of appearance and grim demeanor making the situation seem surreal. One of the soldiers before them held up his closed fist and the entire group stopped.
"Our orders are to capture Wolverine at all costs. The rest of you are expendable. Surrender or face extermination." Every rifle raised and Scott tensed, wondering how quickly he could trigger his visor. The team's leader couldn't see behind him, how Logan's eyes had widened at the declaration of intent. Hazel eyes locked on familiar faces in the crowd of armed men, bullies who had been to his cell and thought it was fun to torture the freak of nature. Go back to that hellhole? Let them try to hurt Kitty and Jeannie and the others? That would be a big fucking hell no! Before the thought had even fully formed in his mind, the claws were out and he roared, startling everyone in the hall as his leap took him right into the foremost line of soldiers straight in front of him. The stunned pause lasted a second before bullets started flying, although most of them were aimed at Wolverine as panic spread. He was already creating carnage, leaving a bloodied trail of dead or dying in the three seconds that had passed, and the X-men team were all flat out on the floor to avoid the gunfire.
"Logan! Shit!" Storm cursed, the unaccustomed word leaving her mouth without thought at the feral's unexpected and reckless action. Quickly she threw out a cold front behind them, frost thickening on the walls, while an arctic breeze knocked the soldiers to the ground. Scott picked off more of them with precise blasts and Jean flung others around enough to incapacitate. The three of them scrambled into standing positions, having secured their back trail, and took off after Logan with Kitty close behind. It wasn't hard to know where he'd been. All they had to do was follow the sickening sight of red spattered over the walls and the distant sound of rifle shots.
"Oh my God…" Jean looked vaguely sick as they rushed onward. Did Logan even know where he was going? A terrible thought occurred right after: would he be able to come back to them after this? The redhead could sense that he was close to some mental edge, almost emotionally broken from his captivity. First things first, though, find the man. It always amazed her how fast he could move for as heavy as he was. They'd covered what seemed like endless hallways and hadn't caught up to him. Kitty was feeling nauseous, trying not to look down at the bodies on the floor. She kept a picture in her mind, a vivid image of Logan's gaunt, bloodied face and haunted eyes right when Jean had pulled off the bag, and reminded herself that these assholes had done that. It helped. Not much, but some. She was breathing through her mouth, partially from exertion and partially to lessen the impact of the coppery scent infusing the air. Scott was feeling much the same way, although he was dealing with it. Hell, how far could Logan go before he ran out of steam? The feral had to be running on adrenaline fumes right about now, judging by the state they'd found him in. Hopefully this wasn't a base filled to capacity, so the enemies would run out sooner rather than later…
"Scott, look at that!" Storm's voice brought his attention back, and he looked down, as did everyone else, to where she pointed. A trail of bloody footprints had left the bodies behind, and was leading them down an empty corridor. Red-tinted vision caught sight of a figure ahead, slumped down on their knees, and Scott jogged forward suddenly. That muscled back and gravity-defying hair could only belong to one man.
"Logan! You shouldn't take off like that, we need to stay together!" He belatedly realized his words were more suited to scolding a child instead of the fully-grown man before him, but they'd all been worried for his safety. The little group he'd been leading came to a stop and waited for a response that didn't come. Wolverine knelt there, unmoving, his back dotted with numerous bullet holes that weren't bleeding, but weren't closing. Then again, could he even bleed at this point? Scott wasn't sure how the man was functioning, but his regeneration ability was probably doing its best at this point. Although how long that would last was anybody's guess. Kitty stepped forward.
"Logan?" Her soft voice was quiet in the empty hallway. They were about twelve yards away from the remnants of bloody destruction Wolverine had wreaked upon the base in his frenzy. It was a small shelter of peace and quiet, but one that could only be temporary. What if there were more soldiers, or backup had been called in? Scott crouched down next to Logan, but he turned his attention to the others.
"Jean, you and Kitty locate the exit again. Go through walls if you have to. Storm, you and I will stay here and guard Logan. Jean, give me a mental call when you've found it. You can lead us toward you." They split up, and Scott was aware of Ororo standing several feet behind him and keeping a watchful eye out, but his current focus was on the feral. Logan looked a bit like a horror film extra, hunched in on himself and dripping with blood that wasn't his own. The other man's gaze was turned down, no matter how Scott stared at him. Damn it, he always knew when he was being watched. Why wouldn't he just look up, already? Logan just ignored his presence, surrounded by other sensations that were overwhelming all else: blood drying on his skin, the faded ache between his knuckles after hiding his claws away, and his pulse pounding in his ears even though he should have been relaxed in his current slumped position. If his healing finally gave up, would his pain finally have an end? The numerous wounds he still carried burned but weren't fixing themselves. A nice dark, quiet afterlife… that sounded pretty good. Anything was better than always running, always hiding, always being hunted for what you were. To his horror, a sound broke from his throat, a sort of sob that he managed to stifle just afterward, but the boy scout heard it. Scott's visored gaze jerked in his direction but Logan turned his head away, ashamed at having revealed any of the turmoil he was losing the battle against. There was the sympathetic brush of a hand at the back of his neck, and then Scott stood up and walked five feet away, closer to Storm. Damn it, he did not want to be pitied! Logan's fingers spasmed slightly, wanting to clench into fists, but unable to pull up the necessary energy. Fuck it, he really wanted to sleep. Or die. Kind of the same thing at this point. The morbid thought made him bristle slightly, age-old survival instinct threatening to kick his ass if he even thought about giving in.
"Finally ready to listen to reason, Wolverine?" Logan felt his entire being just freeze, like ice cold rain had poured down over him in a sudden flood. The voice was pitched low, his sensitive hearing picking up what Storm and Cyclops probably couldn't, that Stryker was standing in a hallway in front of him about a foot away. Judging by the scent, he also had a gun, although Logan dismissed that as inconsequential. Just the man's presence, though, was enough to raise his discomfort to almost anxiety level. When would the asshole leave him alone?! He still refused to raise his head, even as he heard the unmistakable sound of a revolver's cylinder being opened for loading purposes. "You can start all over again, you know. I can take away all of this suffering, all the painful memories. See, these aren't just any old bullets. They're made of adamantium." Wolverine jerked slightly at that revelation without meaning to, eyes wide, and he heard Stryker's chuckle. "Yes, that does mean something, doesn't it. I'll wager that a close proximity shot to the head would just about wipe you clean." Soft sounds, each round being slowly and deliberately inserted into the cylinder as if the military man were relishing the ritual. "You really did leave quite a mess here for me to clean up. Like seeing the scene afterward of a bear attack." There was a tutting sound. "You're just an animal, Wolverine. You always have been. You know it. I know it. And now… they know it." He couldn't see it, but he could hear a wide grin in that smug voice, the pleasure being taken from those words. "You think Xavier will want anything to do with you after this? I'm doing you a favor, you know." The chambers were apparently filled as he heard the metallic click of the cylinder being flung back into position. "Scrambling your brains will be like putting down a rabid dog. You'll start with a clean slate. Or maybe if you're lucky, it'll actually kill you. You've wanted to die for a while now, haven't you?" Hazel eyes closed tightly. Did he still? Yeah, he kinda did, God help him. A soft squeak of rubber sole on concrete, and he knew Stryker had stepped out from hiding. Logan felt his insides go cold as his body shuddered, but he didn't move, didn't protest. Just… get it over with, damn you.
Scott conversed softly with Ororo for a few minutes, hoping to give Logan some time to compose himself. Hell, if the other man was able to show any emotion at all, the X-men's leader considered that better than the complete apathy he'd exhibited until then. What prompted him to look back, he didn't know. Scott just casually glanced over in mid-sentence and froze. Not much had changed. Wolverine remained huddled in on himself, still covered with slowly darkening blood, but standing right beside Logan was William Stryker, with a gun held mere inches away from the side of the feral's skull. Holy fuck…!