Logan's eyes opened slowly, a new sheen of focus and determination empowered him as he sat upright. There was chaos around him, in that red-lit Memory Locker. He felt strong…something he hadn't felt since he woke up trapped in this nightmare. Scott was throwing his shoulder against the metal door, his face screwed up in pain, sweat dripping down his pale face. Voices screamed outside, weapons banging against the walls. Someone put a bullet through the small, glass window, shards falling down on Scott. He yelled and stepped back as a shard sliced his forehead and blood poured down his eye.
He stumbled back, his hands trying to hold his shaking body against the wall. Logan could see Scott was afraid; the soldiers were coming in like a horde, and the only way to protect themselves was another blast of his laser vision. All of them, including the soldiers, knew that Scott didn't have that power left in him. One more blast and he'd die.
Scott put his hands on his face, one side coming away wet with blood, but his fingers were on his ruby quartz glasses.
"No, Scott!" Logan yelled from the bed.
"Logan?" he turned his head in his direction, hope and fear mingled in his eyes.
Wolverine growled low and deep, then slowly shifted his legs to the side of the bed. He stood up well over 6 feet, his form buff and powerful.
"Logan," Scott's voice was full of shock and confusion, "your leg. You can put weight on it."
He looked down. That's right, he didn't even remember it was injured. His pain was completely gone, even his exhaustion slowly dissipated. A dangerous smile tugged at his lips.
"Your healing factor is back, Logan," Cyclops said warily, "does that mean…"
"Let's find out," he answered his teammate and stood poised for attack by the cot. A battering ram had the door barely hanging on its hinges and one more charge made it go flying. Logan dodged the heavy metal door as it smashed into the far wall, with a squadron of soldiers plowing in behind it.
Three men seized Scott, jumping on him like football linebackers. He didn't even have time to raise his fists. Seven of them surrounded Logan, all of them weapons raised and screaming at the top of their lungs.
He looked back and forth from all of them, a newfound sense of confidence and power surging through him. Damn, they needed a Memory Locker back at the school. Who knew it felt so good.
"On your knees, I said! NOW!"
"Get down!"
"Hands up!
Logan slowly dipped to one knee, both hands behind his head, but something mischievous lingered in his eyes.
A soldier approached from behind to slap a pair of cuffs on his wrist, then he unleashed it.
Inches of pure adamantium metal emerged from his knuckles as his claws unsheathed to their full extent. A familiar sense of adrenaline rushed through him along with relief at regaining his abilities. He swung low and sliced through the leg of one, back up and scratched another's chest, to the side and shredded a forearm, back down and cut a thigh muscle. It was hacking and clawing left and right, like a butcher in a slaughterhouse.
"Yes!" he cried in his joyful rush.
He charged the three men tackling Scott and flung them back like rag dolls. Cyclops groaned a little on his stomach, cuffs placed on his wrist, but Logan easily sliced through the metal and lifted Scott up by the collar of his shirt.
"Come on, move it!"
Somehow, Scott found his footing and they were sprinting through a hallway, making turns right and left. He just kept his eyes on Logan and followed, the guy knew this place better than he did. A major part of him sighed a great breath of relief at Logan regaining his powers. The claws and the healing were the greatest assets in battle, and they had all of Stryker's troops looking for them.
"Scott, come on, over here!"
"I don't think," he panted heavily, hands resting on his knees, "I can make it any farther."
"We're almost outta here and now you quit!? Come on, man, shape up! Let's go!"
"Easy for you to say," he continued to pant like a dog, "you can heal."
"Look, Scott, I know you're spent, but this is home stretch. I need you to tough it out a little longer."
"Oh, all right," he lowered his head, "but I need a weapon, I'm not using my sight."
"You couldn't even if you wanted to. Here," Logan picked a gun off of an unconscious soldier resting against the wall, "he's not using it. Let's go."
Off they went, down another set of dizzying hallways, Cyclops leaning heavily on the healed Logan. He was looking for the exit, ready to claw through anyone dumb enough to stop him.
"Logan," Scott panted,"not the waterfall, remember? He'll be expecting that."
"I know," he agreed grimly, "the alternative isn't better."
"What?"
"The main exit."
"That's a great plan if you want to die."
"What? Stryker won't be expecting that."
"Because no one is stupid enough to try it."
"Guess what? We are. Stryker is probably camped out there anyway, kill two birds with one stone."
"You want to kill Stryker? Now?"
"I've been dreaming about it every day since I left this place, Scott, and I'm not coming back here voluntarily."
"Logan, I know revenge is a big thing to you, but to jump into a suicide plan for temporary satisfaction?"
"You are the leader, Scott, I respect you, and I expect you to do the same with me. You don't know my past, you don't know how much I want this."
"No one can go through what you did without coming off with a few cracks in the armor, Logan, but you're healing ability not only fixed your body, but gave you a sound mind. I can't convince you to stay, I can't fight you in my condition, but god dammit, Logan, I'm asking you."
Logan paused for a moment, thinking over Scott's words. He opened his mouth to speak when the sound of a gun went off and Scott fell to the floor. Logan reacted almost immediately, lurching down to pick up the bleeding Scott and shielded him with his indestructible body.
"Scott!"
"Ah-! I'm fine! Bullet in the shoulder!" he said through gritted teeth, his face twisted into one of excruciating pain, "Get us out of here!"
Scott stumbled in front of Logan, a hand wrapped around his shoulder, blood dripping from his elbow. Logan felt bullets pierce his back and he grunted with each one. They slowly slid out of his skin, dropping to the floor like metal flies.
"Follow me!" Wolverine jumped in front of the tumbling Scott and led the way, "I know this place!"
Soon, they emerged into a large hangar. This was Stryker's arsenal for jets, tanks, army vehicles-any shape, size, or form of transportation was in this enormous chamber.
"Jesus," Scott panted, "think…he's got…enough?"
"Take it easy, bud," Logan grabbed him by the uninjured shoulder and steered him to the side. They ducked behind the wing of a fighter jet, observing as three convoys of soldiers sprinted into the building, full strength.
"I know the way out," Logan looked to Scott, "We've just got to get the gate open before they lock it down."
"I-I know how to fly, do it with the X-Jet all the time," Scott teetered to the side, but caught himself and straightened up.
"Can you fly?"
"I'll do anything to get us out of here. Besides, if I tried to fight those soldiers, I'd just be dead weight. Don't worry about me, Logan, keep them off and I'll open the gate."
"The control panel is near the door," he whispered as the troops began to split up. Wouldn't be long before they found the hiding place, "can you make it."
"Yeah, I think so."
"Good," he looked ahead, "because we die if you don't."
"No pressure."
"See you on the other side?"
"Sure, Logan, but be careful."
Wolverine unsheathed his claws, the comforting sound of the metal emerging and the glint of light against them gave him a rush of ferocity. Time to take these guys down.
He roared like a beast and jumped from behind the wing, charging the troops with full might and claws out.
Scott admired Logan's fighting skills, his form nearly perfect and technique amazing. Those training sessions were something he never took seriously, but now in the heat of battle against his most hated enemy, Logan was unstoppable.
Come on, Scott, the control panel.
All three troops were focused on taking Logan down, bullets pelting him like rain. He took on five men at a time, always taking them down with one stroke. That meant he had a clear route to the control panel. He said a silent prayer, tightened a cloth around his shoulder, and gently crawled behind the jet, hiding behind the tire. Good, still clear. The hangar was huge, the panel way on the other side. A bullet would easily bite him before he made it there, but luckily Colonel Stryker was kind enough to leave them with an abundance of army jeeps just waiting to drive.
Scott spotted the keys in one of them, and he scrambled into the driver's seat, doing his best to stay silent. Logan kept battling as ferociously as ever, and Scott was relieved that he was stuck here at least with Logan. Sure, they had differences, but Wolverine was resourceful, strong, committed, and knew what he was doing. He fit the key into the ignition and turned, the engine roaring to life underneath him like a caged tiger.
"Hey! In the truck! It's the other mutant!"
Six men charged his way, guns aimed and ready to fire until Logan sprinted after them like a cheetah and jumped, taking three down at once, slicing one, cutting another, and finally tearing down the final assailant.
"Go, go, go!" Logan yelled, motioning for Scott to push it.
His foot slammed on the gas and the jeep went flying like a rocket. Gunshots blasted at his vehicle and he ducked his head, eyes barely able to see over the wheel as glass shattered around him. Almost there, almost there!
He hopped out of the driver's seat, falling to the floor as the world spun around him. His sweaty hand propped him up, the other wrapped in a makeshift sling to protect his shoulder, when heavy boots started to approach. They were still out of range of a bullet, but in a few seconds they'd take aim. He slid under the panel and jumped up to a set of buttons and screens with all types of commands. He scanned the aisles of buttons quickly, trying to place the correct one when it practically jumped out at him. It was a large, red button with the word "HANGAR DOOR" on it in bold letters.
He slammed it down with his fist and a great rumble made the ground shake. The enormous doors opened a crack, sweet, beautiful light filtering in. It was the first time they'd seen daylight in days and Scott actually felt himself tear up. This was it, they'd get out of here-
"DUCK!" were the only words he heard from Logan who fought on. He looked ahead just in time to see a soldier aiming, his finger about to press the trigger. Cyclops dropped to the floor as the bullet ricocheted off the metal pipe behind him.
"Scott!" Wolverine started to sprint in his direction, "PLANE!"
He whipped his head around and saw Logan was pointing at a large fighter jet near him. He was sprinting in his direction, that meant it was go-time. He lugged himself over, hanging onto a steel rail to support him from all that running, jumping, and ducking. Blood soaked the makeshift sling on his shoulder, the liquid uncomfortably seeping against his arm and into his worn shirt.
Logan had caught up to him, another fifteen soldiers at his tail. Wolverine leaped in front of Scott, protecting him as he hoisted him up to the pilot's chair.
"Logan, I'm gonna bring down the platform so you can hop on! You have to be quick!"
He thought he saw him nod, and Scott turned back to the display of controls for the jet. He switched on a few lights, clicked a few keys, typed in a few commands, and the engines started to roar. He pressed the platform button and it started to descend. Logan was slowly making his way towards it, slicing at soldiers who tried to approach. They knew guns no longer worked on him, but some lingered behind, pulling something over with a tarp covering it. That didn't look good.
Soldiers started to climb the side of the plane in an attempt to get to him in the cockpit. Scott, panicking, began to slowly roll the plane forward, inching it closer to the wide open doors to freedom. From the corner of his eye he spotted the men throwing off the tarp, revealing a huge rocket launcher.
"Logan, get on the plane!"
Scott pulled the throttle up, the plane starting to travel a little faster. It managed to tumble some of the soldiers off, but a few resilient ones clung on. Wolverine saw Scott's predicament, the soldier already reaching the glass. He sprinted as the plane started to make its way towards the doors, eager to fly into the daylight.
"Hang on! I'm coming!"
Logan took a risky leap, his strength built up in his legs and he propelled through the air, aiming for the platform. He just made it, his claws digging into the aluminum for dear life as he pulled his whole weight up, and he lay on his back, panting.
"Logan!"
The soldier climbing on top of the glass was slowly pulling a gun from his belt, ready to aim at Scott. Cyclops was pitching the plane from side to side, trying to throw him off, but the guy was like a spider monkey.
"I've got him!" Logan yelled, running to the cockpit as Cyclops closed the platform door.
"Scott, I've got to break the glass!" he yelled above the roar of the engines.
"What?! When we reach high altitude, we won't be able to breath!"
"Fly low!"
"Are you crazy!? They'll kill us!"
"We'll figure it out!"
Logan stood right below the soldier, who was fighting the wind and slowly aiming the barrel of the gun at the glass. Logan unsheathed his claws once more, happy to do so, and thrust upwards. His claws left three neat holes in the glass, but cracks sprouted from them like roots. The soldier was impaled by the three sharp, metal claws and he slunk over, his body sliding off the glass and his blood leaving a thick smear.
"We're in the clear!"
"Not yet," Scott said grimly, "behind us."
Logan tried to peer out and see what Scott meant when a female voice echoed through the cockpit.
"Missile Locked on."
"Wait, they're targeting us?" Logan turned to Scott, "their bullets will never reach us!"
"It's not a bullet, Logan, it's a missile!"
"God damn it! Fly, Scott, get this thing in the air!"
Scott could see the edge of the runway, the plane speeding towards it excitedly. He yelled as the plane shook against the turbulent wind, his hands pulling the throttle upwards. Logan was hanging onto the seat for dear life, his nails digging into the leather like it was the last thing on Earth. It very well could be.
"Hold on!" Scott felt the ground give way as the runway track came to a stop. The plane went soaring from the edge, the sun stinging Scott's sensitive eyes. The plane veered from right to left as the missile went flying under them, making contact with the ground nearby and unleashing a huge explosion. They erupted from the smoke and soared higher as the plane slowly gained control.
Cyclops was slouching over in this seat, barely able to keep his eyes open as that last adventure and blood loss left him breathless and exhausted. The world was a blur to him now, the land and clouds blurry in his swimming vision.
"Logan…" he said shakily, "take the wheel."
"Scott, we did it!" he was still celebrating, unaware of his condition yet.
"Logan-"
Scott felt his eyes close unwillingly, his fingers slipping off the wheel and his face go crashing against it. His whole body shifted to the right as the plane went swerving towards the ground.
"Scott!"
That was the last thing he heard as his eyes barely blinking eyes slid closed for a long time.