Previously, on X-men: A Past and a Future…
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…!
Storm jerked next to him with an extremely confused expression, and Stryker jumped, distracted momentarily from what he'd been about to do. Scott had been so shocked that he'd actually shouted the words out loud, but had no time to feel embarrassed. The spectacled old soldier was already bringing the gun up again, looking determined to do whatever the hell his crazy plan was. There was a mere instant of decision, during which Scott realized he couldn't care less what happened to Stryker, but the bastard could never be allowed to fuck Logan over again. His hand rose and triggered the visor covering his eyes, allowing energy to burst forth and catch the military man full on, blasting him away from Logan and into a wall. He ended in a heap on the floor, but Scott didn't even glance over as he rushed toward Wolverine, ending on one knee beside the still unmoving mutant. He could feel Storm standing right behind him, a supportive presence that he really needed at the moment. Scott was fairly certain he'd just taken someone's life deliberately. "Logan, are you okay?" he asked, although realized right after he said it that it was a pretty stupid question. The other man didn't seem okay at all, appearing completely apathetic to what was going on around him. Didn't he care at all that someone had just tried to execute him? One muscled shoulder shrugged half-heartedly.
"'M okay," Wolverine muttered, still making no effort to get up, or to move at all. What was wrong with him? This wasn't at all like the caustic feral, and Scott wondered if maybe it really was too late, and Stryker had managed to break Logan for good this time. He shook his head, placing a hand on the other's back and feeling the muscles tense at the unexpected contact.
"No, you're not," he responded, almost gently. Logan's lips twisted in a ghost of a smirk, as if he couldn't even muster the energy for anything but the smallest fragment of emotion.
"I'm always okay," he finally said, looking down at his hands where they lay loosely curled on his thighs, focusing on the skin between his knuckles. "Doesn't matter." A shake of the head then, the first deliberate attempt at movement since he'd fallen to his knees after slaughtering all those soldiers. Scott desperately wished Xavier were here, as he'd know what to do or say. Or even Jean, who Logan probably felt closest to after Rogue. But he'd started this, so it was up to him in this moment; he had to do the best he could.
"It does matter, because you're hurting, and you've been hurt, and it should never have happened. But it also matters because you're one of us," Scott replied, and hazel eyes finally looked at him, just a bit out of the corners.
"What, a mutant?" There was some self-loathing in Logan's tone, and Cyclops knew then he'd never really understood how much the feral might blame himself for what had happened in his past.
"No. An X-man." Logan jerked a little, fully looking at him then, but dropped his gaze too fast, as if he was ashamed of something. Scott's lips pressed together in exasperation, but he did understand, a bit. Their teammate had been through hell the past two weeks. It was going to take some time to bring him back from the edge. Time they hopefully had, before he spooked and disappeared to try and recover all alone. Cyclops opened his mouth to say more when he felt a familiar tug at his mind. He sat back a little and 'listened', giving Logan's forearm a reassuring squeeze before standing up. "Storm, Kitty and Jean made it back to the jet. She says the route is a little winding from where we are now, especially without Kitty's help, but she'll be giving me directions as we go." The white-haired woman nodded her understanding and helped him get Logan back on his feet. She wasn't sure how quickly the feral would be able to move, but was completely certain they all wanted to be gone from that place as soon as possible. The three of them moved off without a backward glance, having to retrace their route at first through the hallways littered with bodies. Once they'd left the area, Stryker's still form finally moved weakly, something wrong with his back as he struggled to do more than twitch, gasping. One hand reached into his coat pocket, teeth gritted against the pain, and pulled out a small mechanism, pushing a button at one end. Then he looked at the revolver laying a foot away where it had landed once he'd hit the wall. The black opening of the barrel beckoned to him. A minute later, a single gunshot echoed through the empty hallway before all was silent again.
x_X_x
Jean smiled with relief as she made contact with Scott, her look mirrored on the younger mutant's face next to her. She and Kitty were within sight of the Blackbird, and before too long this ordeal would be just a bad memory. It was a shame that Logan had far too much experience with such things… The redhead stifled her unexpected bout of pity, knowing the feral mutant wouldn't stand for it, even from her, and it wouldn't do to distract Scott when he was currently occupied with helping lead the rest of their team back out of the now truly abandoned base. They'd encountered no one else on their way out, so the escape should be no trouble, even with Logan's injuries. At least on the jet she would have some field supplies, could hopefully make him a little more comfortable and clean his wounds. As they approached the jet, Jean triggered the ramp.
"We'll get the Blackbird ready so we can take off as soon as they get out of there," she told the other girl, whose face mirrored her own buoyant thoughts. "With the route they have to take and the pace they'll set, I'm thinking no more than fifteen minutes, and then we'll be heading back home." Their footsteps echoed slightly on the metal as they came aboard and Jean began prepping their high-tech transport. At her instruction, Kitty began pulling a few supplies out from the small medical bay in the back, laying out gauze, antiseptic and wound cleanser.
"I hope Logan feels better when we get back to the mansion," Kitty murmured. She couldn't forget how distant the feral had been, all life and passion drained away as if Stryker had been some kind of vampire. The thought made her shudder, so she pushed it aside as Jean considered her words.
"I hope so too, Kitty. Being back in familiar, loved surroundings will hopefully help him ease back from whatever happened to him in there. We'll have to be patient, I'm sure. Very patient. There's no telling how…" Jean's sentence was left unfinished as she cocked her head to the side, hearing a faint rumble, her senses caught up in something intangible that had registered to her psychic 'feelers'. Something was wrong… something very bad had happened. But what? She closed her eyes and concentrated, brow furrowing with the effort, unaware of the concerned look Kitty was giving her. Without warning her eyes snapped open, expression brimming with fear. "Oh God!"
"What's wrong?" Kitty wondered, anxiety rising once more just from seeing Jean's reaction. The redhead responded with urgent, clipped tones that allowed no questioning or argument.
"Kitty, get to the others as fast as you can, right now! I don't know what happened, but that dam is starting to break and we're going to be right in the path of all that water! When you reach them, you all have to move, and I mean move. Use your powers and just come straight through, there's no time! I'll have the Blackbird waiting." Kitty gasped, though to her credit she didn't hesitate, didn't balk, but took off like a shot down the open ramp. Jean's stomach felt like ice, knowing people she cared about were in harm's way, and that if this went badly they could all very well die in this place that had been the source of Logan's haunted nights. She relayed the current situation to Scott's mind, sending him all the love and reassurance at her disposal.