Stryker roared as he flung all of the sundry objects on his desk against the wall with a sweep of his hands, "What do you mean they escaped?!"
"Sir-sir, not completely escaped," one of his men stuttered, "the mutants are still in the building."
"Then why are they not captured yet?!" he shouted, breathing like a bull.
"Almost, sir, our delta team was on top of them-"
"But they outmatched you?" he said with malicious sarcasm, "Tell me how that could occur, with both of their powers subdued?"
"Not both, sir, the laser-eyed one is-is quite powerful."
Stryker growled and turned away, "That was a mistake on my part. I looked into that Mr. Summers' head. He was too afraid to test the extent of his capabilities, very tentative in realizing his true potential. It must be Logan's doing, he's coercing the other into collaboration."
Stryker's henchman stayed silent.
"The waterfall exit is blocked correct?"
"Yes, sir, that was the first area we secured."
"Piping routes are sealed?"
"Yes, our men are currently patrolling just in case."
"And ventilation systems?"
"Of course, sir."
"Where were they last spotted."
"They apparently were resting in the boiler room, until our delta team caught up with them."
"How did they get away?" his voice was deadpan.
"The Cyclops mutant, sir, it was a powerful beam that erupted from his eyes. Decimated everything in it's path."
"Another power surge?" Stryker now thought to himself, "Fascinating."
"Our recovery team reported that there were no survivors, sir, and the mutants are missing once more."
Stryker strolled to his desk, his footsteps reverberating off the walls.
"The next course of action is your desire, sir."
"Yes," Stryker opened his desk drawer, "what was your name again, boy?"
"Phillips, sir."
"Yes, well," there was a slight hesitation, before from his desk drawer Stryker revealed a gun and shot the man twice in the chest.
Phillips looked down at his blood-stained uniform in shock, then back at Stryker in fear. Before he had a chance to fall, Stryker had an arm at his shoulder keeping him in place.
"I told you," he whispered sinisterly in his ear, "the next time I saw you with no results, you were a dead man. Your lucky I'm being merciful and that you're not stuck in that experimentation room like those other mutants."
Phillips dropped to the floor. Dead.
"Logan?"
He heard a faint voice calling to him.
"Logan, hey, wake up!"
"Wha-? What the…?" Logan felt himself stir, his senses slowly returning to him.
""Wake up, man, come on," he heard a strained voice behind him.
"Scott?" when his eyes opened, a splitting headache racked his brain, and he groaned as his head rested against the cool floor again.
"Take it easy, Logan," he heard his friend's familiar voice.
"What the hell happened?" Logan, eyes scrunched, tried to make a reality out of his jumbled thoughts.
"Just…stay calm."
He didn't like the tone of his voice. It sounded worried.
"Scott?" he said slowly, "Wha-what's going on?"
"I-it's just a slight burn, nothing to be too alarmed over."
"Burn?" Logan felt his breathing hitch, "What do you mean?"
"Just relax-"
"Scott, what the hell is it?!"
He jumped upright and looked down at his leg. Logan almost passed out at the sight of it.
It was charred flesh from a heavy blast that was, undeniably, from the powerful blast of mutant capabilities.
"S-Scott?" his gasped, "W-wha-"
"Logan," Scott hung his dark, curly-brown head, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry."
"What. Happened." his sentence was choppy.
"My powers, I-I told you they were out of control," he looked at Wolverine earnestly, "I didn't mean any of it, Logan, all those people who died."
"Save it," he held up a hand, "my leg."
"When I pulled you out," he sighed, "it was…," he shook head, not wanting to think about it, "but I think you're mutation is kicking in. A little bit faster than before, but still suppressed. I've been trying to wrap it up, but we can't get out of here with you handicap."
"Don't worry about me," Logan winced, "I'll be fine."
"No, you're not, Logan!" Scott retorted, "For once, can you listen to me?! You cannot go on with your leg like this, then Stryker will catch us, then we're finished!"
"Then why wake me up? Logan scoffed, "To tell me the bad news in person?"
"No," Scott shook his head, his tone stinging, "your mutation has been in submission for too long. We need to accelerate the process. Truth is, Logan," Scott's shoulders sagged, "I've got nothing left in me. One more blast like that and I'm done for. Maybe if I rest a little, or regain some strength, I might be able to pull something off, but nothing of that caliber again."
Logan felt some guilt gnawing at his stomach for his actions earlier, for forcing Scott into using his unstable mutation against his will.
"How can we accelerate the process?" Wolverine wondered, "It's been like this for hours."
He tried to will his claws to emerge, but they were still stuck at the tips.
"Look, Stryker did something to enhance mine…if I can remember correctly, we can replicate the process with you."
"How? What did he do?"
"It's not here," Scott looked around at their dingy hiding spot, "but I pulled us as far as I could with the strength I have."
Scott did look beat. His skin was pale and sweaty, his hair was matted to his head, his arms were shaking, and his clothes were singed and torn.
"When Stryker took me away, I was sent to this place called the Memory Locker. I don't know what that is…but it did wonders, Logan."
"The Memory Locker?" Logan tried to rack his brain in identifying the location of this mysterious place. When he was trapped her, he had never been to the Memory Locker, and he didn't really want to see it. But, if he could get his powers back in order, then anything would do.
"Do you remember where it was?"
He nodded sullenly.
"All right, let's go."
With help from Scott, Logan hobbled to his feet, crying out when his boot scraped against the floor. Scott tried to shush him to stop any attention being attracted to them, but what else was Logan to do.
It was like a give-and-take between their arrangement; Scott would lean heavily on Logan's shoulders and vice versa. They staggered along down the paths, clumsily avoiding squadrons of Stryker's soldiers. Logan was coughing blood periodically, his breaths ragged, and his head spinning. His entire body was heating up with exhaustion and strain, but he needed to continue. Scott led the way, his head turning from side to side in search of enemies, but they continued their trek through the vast complex. It was like a never ending labyrinth of painful memories. He could practically hear his screams of pain and fury when Stryker kept him here as an experiment. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the sickly sweet smile of the Colonel out of his mind.
"In here," Scott warned him in a strained whisper, "finally."
"You don't have to go in there, Scott," Logan looked at him, "you are beat, and I know what it must've been like to be in there. I don't wanna chance anything."
There was a moment's hesitation.
"No," Scott shook his head, "there is absolutely no way I'm going to let you go in there alone. Logan, we've had our differences, but we are still part of a team, and I'm not going to let you down. This place did something to you, and what type of leader would I be if I didn't support an X-Man."
Logan was taken aback. This new side to Scott was one he was strangely unfamiliar with.
"Okay," he nodded slowly, "let's go."
Up ahead was a metal doorway, a small, barred, square glass window at the top the only source of light. Scott shivered next to him as they duo made their way over carefully, aware of any passing squadrons with weapons ready. The heavy latch on the doorway looked daunting, like it was locking a beast inside.
"The Memory Locker," Scott looked the door up and down, "It should be able to help your mutation like mine."
The pair entered the room, the heavy creak of the door opening sending warning flags through Wolverine to be aware of any guards who heard it. Scott quickly pushed it shut when Logan hobbled inside, crying out as he staggered to the floor.
"Logan!" Scott ran forward and kneeled at his side.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Logan put a hand up, "l-let's just get this thing working."
"O-okay…are you sure?"
"Quickly, Scott, let's go," he growled harshly.
"Well," Cyclops stood back up, standing in front of the door as he peered out the small window, "I was wheeled in here, strapped down on a gurney. I couldn't see too well, but I was placed in that corner on the cot," he pointed to the far wall where a cot covered in white sheets was cleanly waiting.
"There?" Logan looked at it warily. The dim red lights in the Memory Locker gave it a scary glow.
"Yes," Scott nodded shakily, his head spinning, "then, Stryker injected me with a sedative or something, but I remember him standing behind this control panel, operating it."
Both of their heads turned when the deep voices of armed guards started to sound nearer.
"Scott," Logan looked to him, his entire body screaming with urgency, "get me in that bed."
Scott sprinted forward and threw Logan's arm over his shoulder, heaving him off the floor. The weight of his adamantium was incredible, and he gritted his teeth and groaned with exertion as he helped lift Logan from his crouched position.
Logan's bad leg dragged against the floor roughly and he yelled despite his efforts to keep quiet. That definitely attracted the guards' attention.
"Hey!" there was a heavy banging at the door, "Who's in there!?"
"Now or never, Scott!" he grunted as his back hit the stiff mattress and he extended his body on the bed. Scott, with shaky, cold fingers, placed little sticky, circular nodes on his temples. Next, he reached for a syringe lying on a metal tray ready for its next use. It had a vibrant green liquid inside, almost glowing in the dim red lights.
"Open up!"
"Hurry up, Scott, hurry up," Logan rushed his friend.
"Well," Scott looked back and forth between Logan and the pounding door, "I-I don't know your measurements, so I don't know the dosage…"
"Okay?" Wolverine asked, frustrated.
"So…I'm just guessing with the sedative quantity. But, if the mutation treatment works, then you'll heal fast enough before the overdose kills you."
"Overdose kills me?!" Logan repeated outrageously.
"This door is coming down if you don't open this door!" the guards persisted once more.
"Oh, to hell with it!" he looked at a nervous, ill Scott, "just do it!"
Scott bit his lip but plunged the needle into Logan's neck. He gripped the sheets with his fists, the long, sharp needle in his neck releasing the vibrant green contents into his bloodstream. Already, he could feel the drowsiness seeping over him, the relaxation spreading through his limbs, and his eyelids drooping closed.
"Scott?" his voice sounded deep and drawn out, the objects in his vision swimming unclearly.
He felt his eyes close all the way, the distant pounding at the door drowning out with everything else.
"Wha-?" Logan felt his eyes burst open, his pupils adjusting to the harsh light blaring down upon him, "W-where am I?"
"Logan."
"P-Professor?"
Logan, strapped down to the table with thick leather straps, lifted his head and saw the shadow of a figure sitting in a mechanical wheelchair.
"Professor, what are you doing here? Why am I tied down?"
He saw the wheelchair start to move forward, Xavier navigating it so he stopped just short of his face.
"Logan," he repeated, "he's counting on you."
"Who? Professor, I don't understand-"
"You're letting him down, Logan."
"Professor! Just explain to me what the hell is going on-"
"The claws, Logan. Let loose your claws."
"I-I can't…my mutation's shot, I can't get them out."
"Try."
Logan took a deep breath and with all his might willed his claws to unsheathe, to appease the Professor, but to no avail.
"You see?" he growled, thrashing against the straps in frustration, "It's not working! Untie me!"
"You are the Wolverine, Logan! Become your mutation, only you can control it. No medicine can hold you down, no one can stop you! You heal for a reason, because your body matches your resolve.
"Professor, why can't you help me? Please, I'm sure there's some equipment that Jean can use or Storm-"
"No, Logan! This is your mission to solve, your obstacle to overcome! Think, Logan, think. Scott needs you, he'll die without the proper medical attention, his mutation is too powerful, he's burning up."
"No!"
"Yes," the Professor said cooly, still in the shadows, "think about Strkyer, think about your time in the facility. They tortured you, they ripped away your identity. Are you going to allow that to happen again? Is Stryker going to rob you of your greatest asset? Logan, you're claws are who you are, and even with the Colonel's medicines and devices, you ultimately control your destiny. Now, unsheathe your claws!"