Again, disclaimers. I own none of the X-men, yadda, yadda.
Chapter 20
Logan's tormented howl did little to express the true depth of pain that tore at his heart. Gone was any realization, however subconscious, that this was a Danger Room scenario. He was reliving his worst nightmare: the death of his soulmate and his humanity. Through a blur of hot tears and black rage he could make out Brianna's pale face, frozen in shock, not yet registering pain. She bent her head to look at Logan's claws embedded under her ribcage, and a drizzle of bloody saliva hit his hand, unpleasantly warm. Brianna's slightly glazed stare turned up to his anguished face. Amazingly, she smiled, the expression distorted by the crimson rivulet running from the corner of her mouth. "Thank you," she whispered, and the light went out in her beautiful hazel eyes.
Utter shock and disbelief kept Scott from reacting for a moment, so unthinkable was the scene playing out before him. Then reflexes took over and the lead X-man reached for the override button, at the same time calling to Nightcrawler over the comm link in his ear. "Kurt! We need extraction!"
"NO!" Jean's exclamation stopped Scott's finger in midair. "I need to do this." The voice that issued from between the doctor's lips was hers, but changed somehow, imperious and sure. For some reason that altered tone struck fear in Scott's heart.
Jean's gaze never wavered from the observation window, through which she could now see Logan retracting his claws. Vixen's blood dripped from his knuckles as he watched her body crumple to the floor. The doctor hardly recognized her friend, his face was contorted into such a mask of agony. Armed men, and a few in white lab coats, swarmed into the room below, taking advantage of Wolverine's grief stricken paralysis. They shackled him, injected him with potent sedatives and seemed to lead him away, while others placed his lover's prone, blood-streaked form on the cot, checking for vital signs.
Jean Grey reached out to the tormented mutant with her mind, buffering him, carefully bringing his fragmented psyche back to reality. Scott stared as if seeing his lover for the first time. He could almost sense a fiery halo around Jean's head, so strong were the psi waves she produced. And the awe he felt amplified his foreboding even more.
The soldiers half-dragged a dazed, growling Logan across the room, accompanied by a steely declaration through the intercom. "Good! The subject should be much more...cooperative now, gentlemen. Take him to the grafting chamber." The acrimonious drawl in that voice caused the hackles to rise on Wolverine's neck. Vixen, his mate, was dead and the animal in him screamed for revenge. Then why couldn't he function? The drugs they used...so strong...
Like the opening of an oven door, Jean Grey's presence suffused his consciousness in warmth and sudden clarity. Logan, I'm here. You can come home now, you've done what you need to do. The voice was clear and purposeful, brooking no opposition. A cocoon of psychic energy enveloped his mind, bringing him fully back to himself and present reality. But the gaping wound in his heart remained fresh. Brianna…
Brianna, she's...Jean, I can't leave! But Logan's protests went unheeded. He felt an unrelenting pull at his thoughts, the dank metal walls dissolved into nothingness, and the mental roller coaster lurched into reverse.
He found himself back in the Danger Room, dazed and feeling battered. But his thoughts were still back in that hell hole, the newly acquired knowledge of his past opening wounds long scabbed over. Logan knew that Brianna was alive in the med lab across the hall, but the sensation of her flesh tearing around his claws, the warm blood spilling across his knuckles, brought all his self-loathing into sharp clarity. I'm a monster... They took everything from me, my life, my sanity… He'd never felt this vile and alone.
Jean and Scott appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and Logan felt the current of love and respect from his friends fill the room. Dr. Grey wrapped her arms around him and for once Scott didn't bristle with territorial male possessiveness. Surprisingly, the younger man clasped Wolverine's shoulder in a show of support. Taking a deep breath, Logan squeezed Jean tightly, and let her go. "Thanks," he whispered hoarsely, unable to say more. He turned to the door, not wanting his teammates to see the tear that escaped down his cheek.
"She's not running anymore. We've set Brianna on the proper path back, but it's still up to her to follow it through." The Professor opened his eyes and looked up at the X-men, gathered back in the medical facility.
"Damnit, Xavier, you said my going in there would bring her out of it! Are you saying all that crap…I dredged all that up…it was for NOTHING?!?" Wolverine raged at the wheelchair-bound mutant. His fists flexed involuntarily with a barely controlled urge to unsheathe his blades and destroy something. He felt naked and betrayed.
Professor Xavier was calm in his reply. "No, Logan, on the contrary. We would have had no hope if you hadn't done what you did. I know it was terribly hard, but I trust it has helped both Brianna and you." She will come back to us, have faith, he silently assured his usually stoic associate.
Logan pulled a chair up to Vixen's bedside and sat down resolutely. "I'm not leavin' until she wakes up." He held her small, limp hand between his, pressing his lips against the slender fingers. "And if she doesn't, Charlie…I can't say what will happen." His voice was guttural with emotion. If this second chance with his soulmate was destroyed, Logan felt sure that the Wolverine might just take over for good.
