Memories

Lone Wolf

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If you want to use Tora, or any of my other characters, PM me.

She was standing slightly away from the others, a smile playing over her features. Logan gave her a smile and watched as she walked away. With things…while, not exactly back to normal, were okay, he had only just realised he'd been away for nearly two months. He made an excuse to Hank and walked out of the room, down to the library. Tora was standing by the window, her hand pressed to the glass.

"Hey."

He wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry. Kurt told me about what happened."

"It…it was like you were dead to them. I heard them talking about whether to bring Polaris in to remove the adamantium."

He pulled her closer.

"It's okay. Everything's okay."

"It's not… It's not… You didn't see it… You weren't there… They didn't care Logan, they didn't care. You were a threat, not a friend. Wolverine, Enemy of the State, ex-X-Man, not Logan, not my husband, not a father."

He tightened his grip on her even more and blessed the adamantium skeleton. That amount of pressure on a normal person would at least crack a rib. She buried her nose into his chest and inhaled.

"I'd almost forgotten what you smelled like."

"I dreamt about you. Every single time I had a moment of realisation of who I really was, I smelt you."

She gave an odd smile.

"Good to know I have that much of an affect on you."

She pulled herself away and turned round so she faced him.

"I missed you."

"I know."

When Kurt opened the door to the library ten minutes later to see where they'd gone, they were kissing and showing no signs of stopping. Quietly, he closed the door then walked away, smiling softly.

A finger brushed the surface of the water, skimming over it like glass. Ice hung in the air and energy crackled. Half-formed thoughts swirled around the room, power driving into the minds of the beings there. The black haired woman flickered and a gleaming skull appeared before she returned to the face she found most useful. Phoenix glowed as fire flickered around her, a flamebird lighting her features up. Only the host remained unaffected, absorbing the energy into her and becoming even darker, so the clothes she wore, previously jet black, deepened until the silver workings on her became so bright in comparison, it was impossible to look at her. No words were spoken. None were needed. When you were thought incarnate, Phoenix thought wryly, pain from friends tended to reach you faster than any other emotion from another person. And maybe that was for the best.

The man smiled indulgently at the teenage boy in front of him. He took in the red-flecks of hair in midnight black, the dark eyes, the way the jaw was set in a determined manner.

"Are you sure you're ready for this Wolf?"

"I am Sir. You've been training me for fifteen years Sir. I'm ready."

"Ready what?"

"I'm ready Sir."

"Good. Now, your targets are exceptionally dangerous and will kill you without a second thought. This envelope contains photos and scents. Memorise them."

The boy slit open the envelope and glanced at the photos.

"Weapons X and X-ii? I thought you said I was never to approach them."

"We think you're ready. X-ii had minor…blemishes that resulted in the termination of her program. X has never been as focused as you are. Your dedication to the program is exemplary."

The boy's manic grin reminded the man that Wolf suffered from insanity. Maybe they shouldn't have messed around so much with his memories, but how else were you supposed to give someone fifteen years of intensive training in three months? Or it could have been the physical boosters. In fact, it could have been any of the many things they had done to him. Hell, it could even be that alien tech they used to get him to the point where he was of use. The boy gave a big grin.

"You really think I'm ready? Sir."

"Of course." Not. He was too weak, too inefficient. Too mad. But there was the slightest chance he would kill one of the Weapons and that would be a bonus. Of course, the other would automatically kill him and then find out to their horror exactly who they had killed. In psychological weaponry, it was the ultimate.

"Sir, thank you for allowing me the chance to do this. And my parents… have you found them yet… Sir?"

"Not yet. When we do, rest assured that they will be punished for abandoning you."

"Thank you Sir."

The boy leapt out of his seat and walked out of the door. On the screens hidden behind his desk, the man watched as the teen jumped in the air, unaware of the cameras.

"YES! YES! YES! AT LAST!"

The man let a cruel smile twist his lips. The boy was a tool, a way of getting to his purpose, that was all. Of course he pretended to care, acted like an indulgent father, let his minor mistakes pass, showered him with praise. And the boy who believed his parents had abandoned him, the boy who rightly believed he had spent almost his whole life here, but gave himself the wrong age, had lapped up the affection, soaked it in, thrived on it. And soon he would be dead, a casualty in the fight against the escaped weapons. The man swivelled in his chair and pressed the button.

"WHAT?"

"Sir, Wolf has taken the mission."

Laughter echoed around the room.

"Good. Send me the photos of the fight. I need something to laugh over."

"Of course Mr Sublime sir."

Death allowed the slightest of smiles to twist around her lips. Phoenix looked as if she wanted to punch someone. And their companion had tight lips, a look of anger and outrage on her face.