Chapter 16
Logan was, for one of the rare times in his life, completely at a loss for what to do. The Danger Room had gone completely off program and placed him in a scenario that he would never have envisioned. Well…he looked down at Vixen's dirt streaked face and bruised, naked body, not quite this way, anyhow. What had happened to her? Dried blood mottled her forearms all the way to the elbow, and streaked the rest of her skin like a gruesome tribal tattoo. What was she doing here in the first place? Why did he have the oddest, de javu-like feeling that he should KNOW?
Where the hell was Scott? He was supposed to be in the control room, ready to shut down if things got out of hand with any of the training programs. Logan glanced up to where the large Plexiglas window usually overlooked the Danger Room floor. There was nothing but bare, dingy metal plate around the entire perimeter of the ceiling. Of course, the high security cell didn't have any windows…Logan scowled. Where had that thought come from?
A soft moan brought his thoughts back to the young woman in his arms. With a light touch, he smoothed Brianna's hair back off her face, tucking the wayward auburn curls behind her ears. Already the bruises had disappeared, but her beautiful face was still a mask of misery. "God, Logan…" Vixen shifted her weight and tucked herself up more securely against him. "I feel like I've been run over." The movement brought her bare breasts into direct contact with his equally exposed chest. Her dog tags, gleaming with newness, were cold against his skin. Logan bit his lip, hard, and tried desperately to squelch the sudden rush of desire that coursed through his body.
Focus, dammit! He growled to himself. You need to work this problem, focus! Was this a physical manifestation of his frustration at not being able to help Brianna? Had the Danger Room pulled this scene out of his subconscious, offering him an opportunity to physically protect her when she was mentally out of reach? That peculiar sense of familiarity struck him again and Logan found himself asking, without thinking, "What did the bastards do this time?" An image of bubbling fluid and surgical instruments flashed in his mind, things known all to well to him from his nightmares. Logan grasped Brianna's forearm and could feel the dull edges of the adamantium blades housed just beneath her skin. She winced and tried to pull away, but Logan's grip was iron.
"Oh, my God," he breathed, the anger he felt smoldering in him erupted into flames of rage. This was it. This was the place it had all happened. They had been here, together, being cut open and sewn back together like second-hand stuffed animals, some sick twisted asshole's lab rats. Visions came to him faster now, scenes of torture and forced violence, all designed to strip away any semblance of humanity, to turn Logan into a mindless, nameless killing machine. He crushed Vixen to himself, trying to lend her strength while at the same time fighting to keep the Wolverine at bay. The weight of the memories that threatened to engulf him was tremendous and his feral nature was urging him to run, kill, take as many of them out with him as he could.
"Logan." Brianna breathed his name, and began to rain hungry, desperate kisses on his collarbone, trailing her teeth up the side of his neck. The heat of her lips drove away any veneer of reason he might have had left, and he frantically claimed her mouth with his own, wanting to taste her, mark her as his. They had injured his mate. Logan plunged his tongue into Vixen's mouth, felt the scrape of her teeth as she returned his assault, wild with need and urgency. She was his, HIS! Those scumbags had no right…
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I looked on in horror as my doppelganger clutched at Logan desperately, pressing herself against him, feeling her arousal as my own. It WAS my own, I realized, for this was the slice of memory I had seen the first night Logan and I met. Sweaty bodies, unbridled passion… I shook my head as the scene played out in front of me, a mounting sense of dread taking over. Something was going to go terribly wrong. The irrational fear I had experienced when Logan and I were in the hay barn threatened to overwhelm me again. Oh, God, no! I screamed, trying to warn the man in front of me, but no one could hear me inside my own head. I watched in utter horror as the Brianna of my memory placed her fist against Logan's washboard abdomen and, with a wicked, unblinking grin, unsheathed her claws.
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Jean had been monitoring Brianna through the evening, insisting to the Professor that he take a break. She could tell the toll this situation was taking on Xavier, who had become attached to his newest protégé very quickly. He cares about us all too much, she mused, and a smile rose to her lips. The Professor's love and concern was the driving force behind the X-men's cohesiveness as a team. And as a family.
The doctor looked down at the woman on the exam table, and smoothed a bit of hair off Brianna's forehead. Logan loved her. Jean could sense it continuously, like a stream of silent music connecting Wolverine and Vixen, wherever they were. She prayed it would be this connection that brought her friend back from the void. Jean had also gotten very close to Brianna in the short time she had been at the mansion, their similar mental abilities giving them a camaraderie even the doctor and Storm, teammates for years, did not share. Well, that AND Logan, Jean thought with a small grin.
Brianna was stirring a bit, lips moving silently. Placing tentative fingers on the other woman's temples, Jean probed delicately with her mind, hoping to see something that would help her bring Vixen out of her nightmare.
-FLASH-
Brianna and Logan were huddled together in a dark, musty cell. He was holding her close, murmuring softly in her ear. Brianna was exhausted and, even with her healing abilities, in pain. Logan was fighting to keep his anger in check, furious at what had been done to his woman.
A worried look crossed Jean's face. She shouldn't be sensing Logan's presence in Brianna's psyche, not like this. It was as if…as if she were tapped into his feelings at the same time. Curious, Jean probed further.
Logan crushed Brianna into a passionate embrace, all semblance of control gone. They kissed violently, nails drawing blood, marking each other as theirs. Then, suddenly, a sense of foreboding in the air. Brianna shifted slightly and with a quiet snikt, ran her lover through with deadly adamantium claws.
Jean let out a strangled cry that brought Storm running from the other side of the med lab. "What is it? What did you see?" the dark skinned beauty asked, concern furrowing her brow. She grasped her friend by the upper arms, directing the doctor's terrified gaze to her own. "Jean!"
Jean's mouth worked silently, the words to describe what she had seen just out of her reach. Was this an actual memory of Brianna's, of what had happened to her? And why had she, Jean, felt Logan's pain physically, as if the vision she has witnessed were actually real?
At that moment, Scott burst into the lab, cursing under his breath, looking decidedly worried despite his ruby red sunglasses. "Jean, the Danger Room, now. It's Logan."
