Thank you for reading my story, but I would like to take this opportunity to warn readers that there will be mention of sexual abuse and rape in the next few chapters. I'm seriously considering moving this up to a 'M' rating...
A very special thanks to my reviewers Acedia RG, Hellfirefanatic, Ondjage, demonlrd66, TazzybizzyNya, and me (haha, no I don't mean myself)
Jubilee woke up to the sound of dripping. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times until she realized that the reason why she wasn't seeing anything, wasn't because of her eyes, but because it was simply dark. Dark and cold. Wherever she was stunk like mildew and the space she was in felt small and compact. A faint glow was coming from a small window, succeeding in only making the room feel more threatening.
'How...' Jubilee thought franticly, sitting up too quickly for her foggy head to handle. 'If this is one of Bobby's jokes then I'm going to kill him.'
Jubilee felt odd, heavy and drowsy, as though she had just gotten off a 12 hour plane ride after taking five Dramamine. Her mouth tasted coppery and she was wearing only her pajamas.
Panic set in when she tried to use her fireworks to light the room, but found she couldn't, like something had put a lid on her powers and the pressure built in Jubilee's chest, making it very difficult to breath. Remembrance and realization struck her, and Jubilee knew that this wasn't one of Bobby's tricks. This was a nightmare and it was very real.
Jubilee tried to remain calm, tried to remember Logan's training and advice about what to do in a kidnapping situation, but all Jubilee could think about was the man that had her and her friends, and what he was going to do to them.
Jubilee thought back to her last coherent memory and shuddered. After taking the keys from Logan, Animusereptur had led them to the hangar of the Blackbird and forced them aboard. Once on the plane, all hell broke loss. The girls rushed Wanda and him in a last ditch desperate attempt to save themselves from a horrible fate.
Rouge had been incredible, she had fought against him to the best of her abilities, trying to touch him so she could absorb him. Her power, unlike all the other girls, was uncontrollable and even Wanda can't bind her powers. But apparently Animusereptur had come prepared, and stuck Rouge in the chest with a syringe filled with sedative. She fell to unconsciousness quickly and Animusereptur gave all the girls the same treatment, telling them that if they weren't going to cooperate, then this all would be much more painful for them.
Jubilee choked back a cry. Had he killed any of her friends yet? Would she ever see Bobby again? Had Animusereptur already raped her?
Jubilee couldn't hold back the panicked yelp as the last thought ran through her mind. She forced herself to stop shaking, trying to make her body aware through her hazy state. Other then feeling a bit jelly like, she felt fine. Not sore, not abused, not violated. Relief seeped through her before another sick feeling replaced it. Just because it had happened yet, didn't mean it wasn't going to. Animusereptur probably would want them awake for when he had his way with them.
Jubilee heard crying and her hands immediately reached for her face, searching for the tears she was shedding. When she found none, Jubilee smiled. If she wasn't crying, that meant that one of her friends was, which meant that they were still alive and felt a small comfort as she stood on shaky legs and walked to the small window on the far wall. Very little light seeped through and it was caged with metal, trapping Jubilee. She peered through the window as best as she could and saw that she was a few stories up.
From the other side of the door, she heard the jingling of keys and then the sound of a heavy lock turning. Jubilee turned and fell into a weak defensive position. The door swung open and fluorescent light poured in he room and Jubilee quickly took in the details of her room. The floor was thinly carpeted and the walls tiled. A small toilet and sink were tucked in a corner and a small metal framed bed was up against a wall. Jubilee's brow furrowed when she saw that the bed was also equipped with leather chest, wrist and ankle bindings. A roll of nausea tumbled through her as she realized just where Animusereptur had taken her and her friends. They were in an abandoned insane asylum.
Animusereptur stood in the door frame, a pale and ghostly looking Wanda behind him, apparently still under his possession.
"Ah, Miss Lee," he said amiably, as though greeting her for a business meeting, He stepped into the room slowly as his grey eyes flickered from her to the bed, his friendly demeanor changing to one of a hunter circling it's prey. He sat on the cot and fiddled with the leather restraints with a sick, twisted smile. He cocked his head and looked up at her slowly.
"It's your turn now."
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Remy had never felt so empty in his life. Not after he had been exiled from New Orleans, not after Jean Luc and the rest of the Thieves Guild had put a hit out on him, not even after he had murdered Julien. Never in his life.
He knew that they had tried their best, fought their hardest, but it hadn't been enough to save the girls, to save Rouge. His mind clouded with horrible images of what the girls were facing, what was happening to them. They could be dead already, mutilated bodies with their souls trapped.
He stood at the doorway of Rouge and Kitty's room, taking a peak into Rouge's life. Both the girls were neat and clean, but it was rather funny to see the contrast in the sides of their rooms, one side seemed like the beginning of the day, all light and cheerful, while the other appeared as the dead of night, dark and almost wistful. Somehow, the contradiction in the room seemed right, natural almost. There was a comfort in the space, an unspoken presence that haunted Remy.
Their beds were unmade still from when Kurt and Remy had quickly taken them to the danger room, though it had been for nothing. On Kitty's bed was a tangle of soft pastel colored sheets and blankets and frilly throw pillows. Her nightstand had a small lamp and the book Lord of the Flies on it. Her armoire was still open and Remy saw bunches of clothes neatly piled in there, all competing for the same space. On her dresser was a collection of small porcelain ballerinas, tokens of her dancing. She had a small cherry wood jewelry box and a silver Star of David necklace was laid on top of it. The usual girl things were there also, a brush, a straightener, her cherry blossoms perfume. Remy looked at the pictures she had tucked into the corners of her mirror. A picture of Storm with a straw gardening hat on, bent over her flowers, one of Logan rolling his eyes as the girls crowded around him for the picture.
Remy chuckled bittersweetly before turning to Rouge's side of the room. There were no pictures of friends or family, no porcelain figurines, hardly anything that could be deemed personal, except her acoustic guitar and the tall bookcase. The books seemed to be a collaboration of her and Kitty's tastes, the classics were there, like Austen, Dickens, the Bronte's, as well as books such as Brave New World, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, The Brother's Karamazov and such others that Remy was sure Rouge enjoyed. On her dresser was her elaborate collection of gloves, some leather, some silk, some cotton, and all black. Her sheets and blankets were a dark purple and one of her pillows was slightly askew, the corner of her queen of hearts card peeking out.
Remy felt his chest tighten as he picked up the card. He recalled everything about their trip to New Orleans. He had known Rouge before he 'kidnapped' (Remy hated using that word, first of all Rouge was no kid and secondly, he gave her back, kinda). Before their little trip, he had felt an attraction for the untouchable girl. Remy had assumed that he wanted Rouge because he could never have her, that lusting after her was a torturous teasing that left him completely unsatisfied, but constantly fueled his fantasies. Remy was used to getting any girl he wanted, he was all charm and seduction. And knowing he could never have Rouge drove him into near obsession for her.
But then after taking her to New Orleans, learning about her, worrying about her, and caring about her, Remy realized it wasn't his sinful nature or his desire to attain the unattainable that pulled him towards Rouge.
It was love that made him dream of her every night, made him yearn for her so much so that she drove him to near desperation. It was love that drove him to the steps of Xavier's Institute. It was love that was making his tears fall now, dripping onto the Queen of Heart's card in his hand.
Remy didn't feel foolish for crying as he normally would have. These tears were justified, filled with desperation and pain. No one knew where Rouge was, where any of the girls were, or if they were even alive.
"Remy," Jamie's small voice brought Remy back to reality. He turned, not caring to wipe his tears. He had no need to hide how he felt. He knew all the guys felt the same way. Jamie stood in the doorway, his black eye and torn lip reminders of his fight against his own clone.
"Yes Jamie?" Remy found that his voice was soft and gentle, almost paternal. The thought sparked ideas of a life he could never have. Images of Rouge with a child in her arms and Remy by her side made him swallow roughly.
Jamie took a small step into the room. He looked as though he were searching for something, trying to grasp at the comfort of the room, but found only painful reminders of the girls who were suppose to be in there, laughing and yelling at the guys to get out. He looked pained as he tried to come further in.
"They'll be okay, right? I mean they have to be," Jamie said in a choked tone.
Remy wanted to lie to the youngest member of the team. Jamie was 12, still innocent. The ugliness of the girls predicament shook him bad and the truth would only hurt him more.
However, Jamie didn't give Remy the chance to answer with a lie and an empty promise that everything would be fine. He gathered everything he needed to know from the look in Remy's red and black demon eyes.
Jamie nodded slowly and took a shaky breath.
"Let's make their beds," Remy suggested as he began pulling at Rouge's sheets. It was a stupid request, pointless really, but somehow it made Remy feel better. At least he was doing something.
If Jamie had agreed with him about how stupid making the girls beds seemed, then he had kept to himself. He wordlessly set about the task of meticulously making Kitty's bed, fluffing the pillows and straightening the dust ruffler.
Remy smoothed Rouge's comforter, the card still clutched in his hand. He kissed it before placing it back under her pillow.
Jamie and he left the room, closing the door softly.
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Logan left the Danger Room, throwing his sneakers down. The night was getting darker, signaling the end of the day. And they had made no success in finding the girls. He hadn't been able to stand not doing anything anymore, so he had spent the last four hours ripping up the danger room.
As he stalked down the halls, it became evident that nothing had changed. He could hear Scott and Sam in the living room, pouring over maps and calculating how far the Blackbird could go with how much fuel it had had. It was a waste of time, Logan knew, and so did Scott and Sam. But they had to do this mundane task to keep from losing their minds. Ray and Forge were in the lab, attempting to come up with a tracking device that could locate the Blackbird. But of course, the Blackbird itself was untraceable and no tracking system would ever be able to find it. The Professor was in Cerebro, which was the best shot of finding out where the girls were but so far had come up empty handed.
Logan turned a corner and saw Bobby laying on his bed in his room, his breath shallow. Logan knocked once on the open door before entering.
"Hey Ice cube," He said gruffly by way of greeting. Bobby opened one eye and nodded to Logan.
"Anything new?" he wheezed out, his chest protesting in pain. He and Kurt had been hurt the worst in the fight. Animusereptur had attacked them using the Jackal's powers and the cuts he had left them with debilitating and incredibly painful. Bobby and Kurt barely kept themselves from howling in pain as Hank examined them in the med lab. Hank had told them that the Jackal's powers were still effecting them and that during the day the cuts would go away slowly.
"How ya feeling kid?" Logan asked as he took in Bobby's appearance. The cuts were healing, something that reminded Logan of his own healing process in slow motion. A cut on Bobby's neck was closing as they spoke, Bobby's skin coming back together as though nothing had ever happened. Bobby repressed a grunt and clutched his blanket.
"I didn't count on the healing process being almost as painful as actually getting the cuts. Is it painful for you to heal?" He mumbled.
"Yea, it is," Logan answered honestly.
"God damn it Logan, I feel so useless!" Bobby suddenly shouted, his fist coming down on his mattress.
Logan nodded. They all felt that way, unable to control anything, to do anything.
"Bobby, there's nothing you can do. Heal right now," He said. Bobby closed his eyes and nodded, his small outburst seemed to have spent all his energy.
"Don't try and talk to Kurt," he said in a new tone, this one sad and quiet.
Logan's brow furrowed. He had been planning on checking in on the elf after he left Bobby. "Why's that?"
"He's praying in his room. He ported from the lab and Mr. McCoy asked me to check on him to see if he made it to his room okay. All I heard was a bunch of Latin, German and crying," Bobby sighed and raised an arm slowly to itch his newly healed forehead. "Do you think it helps to pray?"
"Helps him. Always did. He needs that right now, if he wasn't praying then he'd do something really stupid," Logan sighed as he sunk into Bobby's desk chair.
"Do you think the girls are praying?" Bobby asked in a rush.
Logan looked up in surprise. Bobby didn't think that the girls were dead, not yet at least. He had been sure that all the younger guys would go about mourning as though it was over, that the girls were gone. Bobby returned Logan's look grimly and answered Logan's unspoken question.
"I refuse to think the girls are so weak that they would be dead already. I want proof before I start planning their funeral," Bobby said firmly, though pain was evident in his voice as he spoke of them being dead.
Logan smiled slightly. Bobby was going to be a good leader before it was all over.
"I don't know if they pray," Logan answered, almost laughing as he thought of Rouge on her knees with her hands clasped and her eyes turned heavenward.
Bobby nodded. "They haven't lost hope yet," he whispered, thinking of Jubilee and her optimistic attitude. It wasn't possible for her to die, in Bobby's mind, that was the most unbelievable thing there was in the world. He would accept George Washington and Abraham Lincoln coming to life and becoming a Broadway star duo faster then he would accept the girls death.
"And neither have we," Logan said as he got off the chair. "I'll keep you updated."
Bobby nodded and shut his eyes as Logan left the room.
Scott and Sam were still huddled over maps when Logan came into the living room.
"Get to bed," Logan commanded as they turned towards him.
Scott sighed, trying to fold a map but kept turning it the wrong way. "I'm not a child Logan." Scott tried once more to tuck the map into a small rectangle but failed. He cursed and balled the map up.
"Shades, don't be difficult, you're tired, now go," Logan said once more, his patience wearing thin.
Scott looked as though he were about to protest once more but Sam cut him off.
"Come on man, he's right. We've done all we can," he said as he stood on his feet, rubbing his shoulder. He and Ray had quite a fight at the Brotherhood house and Hank said that Sam was sporting a bruised scapula and concussion as a result.
Scott grumbled as he rose. "Sorry, I'm just not used to feeling so useless."
"None of us are, but we need sleep," Sam sighed as Logan nodded.
The two left and Logan sank down on to a couch, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. He refused to let his mind think the worst, he refused to think about the torment and abuse the girls were facing.
Instead, he thought about what he was going to do to Animusereptur when they found him, and they were going to find him. Logan would hunt him down to the corners of the universe so he could gut Animusereptur. And if the worst had happened and the girls were dead, then Logan would tear him apart slowly. The sick part was that Logan would enjoy every moment of it, he'd laugh as Animusereptur screamed. Logan wondered briefly if this was his breaking point, if finally the animal had killed the man inside and was taking over. Maybe Logan had finally turned into the monster that he was always suppose to be, that he was created to be.
Ororo came in the room a moment later, a blue bathrobe on and white slippers. She sipped at the cup of tea in her hands as she sunk down on the couch next to Logan.
Logan felt a stirring in his heart when Ororo entered the room, and was comforted to know that the man in him wasn't gone. Not yet at least, but if he found the girls dead, then he wasn't sure what he would turn into.
He lifted his head and looked over at Ororo. She looked exhausted, guilt and worry ridden. He knew that she blamed herself for being possessed by Animusereptur and had expected herself to be stronger then that. Her pretty brown skin looked pinched and her hands were shaking visibly. When she opened her blue eyes, Logan had to look away from her, back down to his own calloused hands.
He heard her snort lightly, very unlike her usual elegant and classy demeanor. "Can't look at my eyes either can you? I was having the same problem earlier, every time I'd look in a mirror, I'd see Kitty's eyes. I never noticed how her blue was so similar to mine."
Logan nodded, glancing at her sideways. "Don't take it personally, I almost poked out Roberto's eyes earlier. Looked too much like Amara's."
She smiled slightly. "And about three people yelled at Ray to not look at them. Too many of the girls have green eyes."
"Ro, you know it wasn't your fault," Logan began as he took her cup of tea from her hands. She was shaking so badly that tiny droplets had begun to spill onto her hands.
"Logan, you don't understand. I was so aware of what was going on around me, I could see myself, all that I was doing. And I couldn't stop. I came so close to killing you all, and if it hadn't been for Charles, then my hands would be soaked in your blood and there would be no hope for finding the girls," Ororo began shaking her head. "After Apocalypse possessed me, I swore to myself that I would never be used as a weapon against my friends."
Logan met her eyes then. "I do understand that feeling of no control, being a puppet to someone."
Ororo visibly flinched when she heard that. She had forgotten about Logan's struggle against outside forces for control of himself. She didn't know much about it, just that Logan had taken the Blackbird to Canada, fought against some mad scientist who had worked with Hydra at the time when they had given him his adamantium anatomy, deeming him Weapon X. Apparently Logan had freed himself from the man by blowing up his lab, which Ororo thought was very Logan like. Logan's past was his own past, and she had never pressed for details, much like he himself never pressed for knowledge of her former life.
It was nice really, they both could maintain the illusion that here in Xavier's institute, there was only the future, and the sins of their past didn't matter. Their unwillingness to speak of what had already come and gone wasn't out of some facade of privacy, but rather a desperate attempt to appear to the younger generation as a beacon of hope and what the children should strive to be as.
"I'm sorry Logan, I forgot," she mumbled as he passed her the cup of tea.
"Don't worry about it, I don't talk about it much," He replied.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost to their own concerns. Ororo broke the ice of silence abruptly.
"Have you ever killed someone Logan?"
Her question caught Logan off guard and he started slightly. "Yea 'Ro, I've killed people."
She nodded and placed her empty cup on the table in front of her, deciding that she couldn't keep the illusion that her past was forgiven while she was in the walls of the mansion anymore. It was time to glance over her shoulder and look the beasts of her past decisions in the eye, she had to do that before she could step forward again.
"As have I," she said softly, leaning back into the couch and closing her eyes. She remembered the fight, the struggle from when she was just a 13 year old, unusually beautiful and captivating, so much so, that a man had tried to have his way with her.
She looked over at Logan and was slightly startled to see he was neither surprised nor confused, but was rather nodding as he said, "I thought you may have."
"How did you know?" she wondered aloud.
Logan shrugged. "I've seen enough death and killings to know how it changes a person. I watch you as you fight, you're reserved and hold yourself back."
Ororo sighed, shuddering at the memory. "I killed a man, to keep him from raping me. The girls, they must be so terrified, I know I was."
"They're strong, like you. They'll find a way to keep themselves safe," Logan reassured.
"By the goddesses, I pray for their safety. I pray that they will make it through this, and have faith that it will be alright," Ororo mumbled.
"Remember that time when I went off the Canada?" Logan asked suddenly.
"Apparently tonight is a time for story telling and divulging deep dark secrets to one another," she laughed gently, pleased to see Logan opening himself up to her as she had for him.
He smiled grimly. "Kitty and Kurt were on board the Blackbird, I have no idea why, those two just seem to have a natural knack for getting into trouble. I had been planning to go up to the lab and figure out some things, but as you know, I ended up losing control over myself."
Ororo shuddered as she thought of the feeling of being possessed. Her movements had been so exact and decisive and she had seen the lightening bolts she had called down strike at her friends and children.
"The bastard had me go after Kitty, and the monster in me wanted to kill her." Ororo raised her eyebrow when she heard that. She couldn't imagine Logan hurting one hair on any of the girls, especially Rouge or Kitty.
"She ran of course, terrified. If I had run faster I could have killed her in an instant, but I fought against it, giving her time to get away. The twisted part is that she lost me for awhile, she could have escaped. Instead she tried talking me out of it and refused to let Kurt port her away, all he could think about was keeping Kitty safe. She quieted the animal inside and I got control again," Logan said quietly, talking about the events of that day for the first time. No one had known about exactly what had happened, why the Blackbird was gone or why Kitty and Kurt hadn't been in school. Charles had never asked and the two teens had told their friends that they needed a little 'vacation'.
Ororo sighed. "So that's what happened. I swear that child is going to get herself killed one of these days. She had faith in you Logan."
Logan nodded. "And I have faith in her, faith in all the girls. Ro, their lives won't end here, they won't let them."
"Is the mighty Wolverine showing that he indeed has a heart?" Ororo smiled slightly.
"Did you ever doubt it?" Logan asked, looking her in the eyes unabashedly.
Ororo blushed under the rawness of his gaze, wishing that she had enough emotional strength to act like the reserved Goddess and not like a woman in need of reassurance. Reassurance that everything would be alright, that the girls would return to them as if this had never happened and also reassurance that even though she had nearly killed all the men, that they still wanted her to stand by them. She acted on impulse then, felt her body move towards Logan, her arms slipping around his neck as her lips found his.
Logan tensed when he felt Ororo's lips move against his, her fingers tangling in his hair. He moved his hands to her waist, preparing to push her away gently, tell her that she was emotionally distraught and frustrated about not being able to do anything about what was going on and that she didn't really want this, didn't really want him and that this wasn't right.
Instead, Logan's hands tightened on her waist as her tongue brushed against his lips and he opened his mouth to grant her entry. He had always found Ororo attractive, hell a man would have to be dead not to. He deepened the kiss as Ororo's hand clutched more firmly in his hair. They were both worried, desperate and frustrated. Was taking comfort wherever you could find it in a time of need wrong?
Logan wasn't given the time to ponder whether or not their kiss was right or wrong. A heavy knock on the front door forced them apart and Ororo jumped to her feet, blushing mildly as she straightened her robes. She turned on her heel and Logan followed after her, sensing that she wasn't about to talk about what had just happened. The woman in need for reassurance was gone, replaced for the time being with the stony Goddess. She reached the door in several long strides and opened it swiftly as Logan came to stand beside her.
What greeted them was mildly unexpected.
"Mags, what in the hell are you doing here?" Logan snarled as Eric and Mystique stepped into the mansion uninvited. Ororo closed the door with a strong gust of wind, the slam translating how unpleasant their presence was.
"Our daughters are missing," Mystique snapped, glaring at Ororo. "You couldn't keep them safe!"
"The last time I checked, Wanda was under the household of the Brotherhood of Magneto. We care about her, but she is not our responsibility!" Ororo corrected, folding her arms across her chest.
"But Rouge is!" Mystique snapped inching closer to Ororo.
Ororo's hand came down on her cheek hard, leaving the blue skin faintly purple as the sound of the smack sounded off the walls. She snatched Mystique's wrist as her hand came up to return the strike.
"Don't you dare come into our home, her home, acting as though you care about her! We care about her, we love her! I assure you that we feel the pain of her kidnapping much more strongly then you do!" She shook Mystique's arm slightly with every word she spoke before she let go off her wrist with a disgusted grimace.
"Bitch, you have no idea how I feel about my children," Mystique hissed.
"Will the two of you stop it?" Eric sighed. "Neither the time nor the place to discuss Mystique parenting, or rather lack there of."
"I couldn't agree more," Charles said from the doorway, Hank at his side. "We are all, in a way, concerned parents here. Let us set aside our differences for the sake of our children." Charles turned his chair and set off down the hallway, a sign that they would be taking their conversation to the privacy of his study.
Logan followed the small crowd of frustrated adults, his mind suddenly a flurry of a million thoughts, though he would never show it. Could Eric and Mystique help? Would the girls remember his training on hand to hand combat? Did Ororo always taste like berry tea? Logan started slightly at the last thought, before pushing it away. Eric and Charles had been right, this was neither the time nor the place to be thinking about anything other then how to get the girls back.
Thank you for reading!