Author: TrilogyX

Rating: R for violence and bad language
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognizable characters in this
work of fanfiction. I just like the fine characters those boys
and girls at Marvel cooked up a whole lot, so please don't sue
me...it's called fanfiction for a reason.

Notes: This is movie verse and it kinda skips back and forth through
times but I try to keep it clear...but hey...I just started typing
and this is how the story decided to tell itself. Just to clarify,
Logan was gone for a year and he's been back nearly two.

Summary: A harmless date turns tragic as an old enemy resurfaces to
get revenge on Logan and something he's always wanted from Ororo.






Cries of the Wounded
by
Trilogy X

Part One

Over and over, the scene replayed itself in his head like a
needle stuck in a groove of a scratched record. With a shaking hand,
he gave a savage twist against the flat metal disk that separated the
cold wet Molsen from his parched throat. As the icy beer slid down
his throat, yet another image of her bloodied body dangling from a
tree branch like a discarded rag doll bombarded in his mind.
Now she was lying in a coma because he couldn't keep his fucking
hands to himself. Angrily, he slammed the bottle of beer on the edge
of the counter and rubbed at the annoying burn of his claws as they
screamed for release from their fleshy housing. He wanted to gut
someone. Anyone. Instead he settled for a less than fulfilling
swipe at the half empty bottle, knocking it and its contents onto the
cool tile floor with a loud crash. Seeing the bottle shatter and the
amber liquid puddle at his feet, did little to satisfy his thirst for
blood. The person he wanted to kill was already dead. The one
responsible for hurting Ororo. Creed.

He should have known the bastard didn't die three years ago. He
should have shredded that twisted little fuck back then. If he had finished the job at the Statue of Liberty, Ro wouldn't be fighting for her life down
there now. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him that if he'd
kept his sorry ass away and continued wandering around Canada, that
animal would have never touched her. He would have never tried to
use her to hurt him.
But, God help him...Victor Creed had succeeded. He'd hurt him. But
he'd hurt Ororo far worse.

He couldn't bear seeing her like this. He hadn't even seen the
full level of damage until he'd finally managed to get her
unconscious body back to the mansion. Her face...her beautiful sweet
face marred by vicious deep scratch marks. Creed literally tried to
scratch her face off. Underneath the scratches, her beautiful caramel
skin was bruised and purple from where Creed had angrily backhanded
her. Lips he'd kissed only 78 hours ago, split wide and swollen.
And her perfect, sweet breasts savagely marred by bite marks where
that heathen bastard had sunken his canines into her soft flesh.

He remembered the entire scene in vivid detail. He'd awakened from
out of the most peaceful sleep of his life to an empty bed. A sleep so deep he'd been momentarily disoriented until he remembered why he'd slept so good. He lifted the wild tangle of sheets to his nose and groaned, his nose confirming his thoughts. Despite the empty bed, it had not been a dream. He recalled sitting there for long moments, wondering how long she'd been gone.
He sighed into the darkness,realizing that she'd probaly taken a cab home. No doubt she was uncertain how to deal with the aftermath. Hell, he'd had more than his share of awkward morning after's, so he could relate.
Neither of them had expected it to happen. One minute they'd been
sharing a harmless dance after a few beers, the next he'd found
himself slamming his credit card on the counter of the Ramada Inn.
Somehow, they fumbled their way to the room with amazing skill,
considering they couldn't seem to stop touching each other. And moments
after he kicked the door shut behind them, he was staring up at her
through vision gone hazy with lust as she brazenly straddled him,
writhing like the mythical Goddess she should have been and hearing
his name like a mantra pouring from her lips as he pushed himself up
into her sweet, perfect body over and over again.
He couldn't recall ever loosing himself so completely with a
woman. It was like they were one being. Absolutely perfect. Wild
and reverent at the same time. Finally, he'd found a woman with a
passion that matched his. He was glad that he'd had the presence of
mind to rent a room, if they'd taken this back to the mansion they
may have managed to wake up the newlyweds. Ororo was a screamer.
Somehow he'd known she would be.
He reached over and caressed her isolated pillow, and noticed it
was no longer warm. She'd been gone a while.
At first, his heart pounded with fear. Not that something was
wrong. But that she'd left because she didn't want him. That
perhaps she was so frightened by the intensity of what they'd shared,
she couldn't take being with him. He knew it had scared the living
hell out of him because he knew that night, the moment their lips
collided that he'd found his soul mate. Making love to her had only
cemented it for him. And neither of them had been prepared. They
both were loners at heart. And they both were lonely.
Then his heart really began to pound as he got out of bed and
yanked on his discarded jeans and shoved his sockless feet into his
boots. If she was gone, he'd find her. He would not allow her to
run away from this. He couldn't.
His fingers closed around the door knob and that's when the hair on
the back of his neck stood up. He sniffed again just to make sure he
wasn't loosing his mind and then let loose a feral growl. He saw red.

The door nearly flew off its hinges as he jerked it open
,his claws jarring from between his knuckles as he followed the
sickening scent that set his blood to boiling. There was the lingering traces of Ororo's sweetness mixed with his own scent which he recognized, but it was overpowering stench of Victor Creed mingled with the sharp odor of absolute terror that made him run.
The scent was fresh and he knew it would not take him long to find them. He tore down that hall,the two flights of stairs,and out of the building in record time. But it was not fast enough. Pushing through the doublepaned glass doors, he felt his heart stopped as he saw the dark crimson and picked up the strong coppery fragrance permeating the air.
In his path, a trail of blood glistened like a flag, highlighted by the glare of the streetlights in the half empty parking lot. Visions of finding her lying in a pool of blood made him momentarily unsteady on his feet. Waiting out the wave of nausea that struck, he refocused on Creed's scent. This was no time to panic. She was alive. She had to be.
It was then, that his ears picked up on the sound of a disgustingly familiar
voice just across the road where there was a dense thicket of trees
along the edge of the highway. Muffled curses, followed by vicious growling...he didn't know if it was his own or Creed's at that moment, but he blindly stalked across the road, canines bared and claws glowing in the streetlights.

A few steps later, the voice became clear.

"You will scream for me, you little whore...just like you
screamed for that fucking runt. Scream, bitch."
Logan ran then, hearing a soft keening moan following by a
sickeningly loud slap.
Then, he heard Creed again...closer than before. "C'mon,
Logan...I hear you, boy. C'mon so you watch me do your sweet little
bitch."
He knew then that they were moving farther away. The bastard
was toying with him.
"She's like a bitch in heat, Logan. I smelled her a mile away."
Creed taunted from somewhere to his left.
Logan squinted in the darkness, nodding his head. 'Keep right
on talking, you big dumb piece of shit' he thought, as he moved
closer to the sound and smells. He tried not to concentrate on the
strong fear assaulting his senses, it only made him more raged. He
needed to stay clear and focused.
"To bad she reeks of you, runt. I thought she had better taste
than that." Sabertooth taunted.
There was a sudden boon of thunder. At least she was still
alive, he thought. It started raining.
"I can smell your stink, Logan. You better keep away if you
know what's good for you."
Then he heard a howl of pain...from Sabertooth followed by a
tirade of curses. Good. She was fighting back.
The breeze picked up, carrying their scents more strongly toward
him and his away from Creed. The direction change was unnatural but just subtle enough to cause a grim smile to play upon his lips. His Ro was a smart one even when she was scared to death.

The loud timbre of another outraged howl followed by yet another vicious
sounding slap, had him speeding up his pursuit. She couldn't fight
him too long. Victor Creed was a rabid dog.

Whatever she did to him, slowed down their pace, because he
found them moments later.
And when he saw them, something snapped in his head.
Creed had her pinned against a tree, her wrist bound by rope
struggling to hang them on a broken branch inches above her head.
Her blouse had been ripped nearly to her waist.
"Kick me again, bitch and I'll rip your fucking face off."
Before Logan could move he saw Creed yank off the remains of her
shirt and bend his head to her breast, grunting and salivating like
the mad animal he was as he sank his sharp teeth into her flesh.
His rage echoed like thunder as he raced towards the pair, and a
blinding flash of lightening lit the sky allowing him to see her kick
him again with so much force Creed fell over backwards howling in
pain and clutching his balls as he fell.
Logan was absolutely amazed when the monster scrambled back up to
his feet and out of the way, just as he was about tackle him. He
thought surely a kick like that would have had him down for a little
longer, but Creed surprised him and spun around and grabbed Ororo,
holding her head in his clawed hand with a hideous grin on his face
as Logan advanced towards him.
"Stop, Logan or I'll rip her pretty head off her shoulders."
Creed warned, presssing his other claws into the exposed column of her neck
just enough to draw blood.
Logan froze, getting a good look at her. Her face was rapidly
swelling, one eye already swollen shut. The trail of blood, he'd
followed obviously from the deep gashes in her left arm, where the
monster had shredded through her shirt. Logan growled in pain and
outrage, as his eyes fell to where her chest heaved, a sick river of
blood running down the front of her shirt, where Sabertooth had
sunken his teeth into her. So much blood. Pooling in a red and pink
swirl as it mixed with the rain, running down the front of remained
of her white blouse.
"Creed."Logan snarled, as he stalked towards the larger man. "Let
her go, now...or I swear, they'll still be finding pieces of you for
the next seven years."
He caught Ororo's eyes as she struggled to remain focused on
him. Saw the fear, saw the panic...and he saw the determination
behind her gritted teeth. She'd been fighting not to cry. Not to
scream. He knew that she was refusing to give Creed the satisfaction
of breaking her.
His heart cheered for her, silently applauding the unbelievable
strength that he'd admired in this beautiful woman for so long. It
was in that moment that he knew that he loved her.
" Go away, little man...I'm not finished playing with my pretty
little toy. She still has to pay for kicking me." Creed announced,
as he looked away from Logan and ran the back of his hand across
Ororo's face in an almost loving caress.

Logan yelled out in horror then, as Creed suddenly jerked her
head back and slowly dragged his right hand down the side of her
face.
He was momentarily blinded by the sheer energy force that shot
out of her body, and he literally saw Creed being flung nearly 12
feet away by the power surge she shot through him.
The smell of burning flesh, ozone and blood assaulted his senses
as he ran to her, where she'd slumped into unconsiousness from the
intense pain and exertion dangling by her bound wrists.
He nearly forgot Creed, as he angrily cut the ropes from the
tree and caught her limp form, retracting his claws as he struggled
to catch hold of her. There was blood everywhere. More blood than
there should have been he thought in panic. He had to get her out
now...he'd come back for Creed later.
He didn't even know how he managed to get her out of the woods
and to the car, his inner animal warring with the man as he fought
the urge to go back and rip out Victor Creed's little black heart.
He drove back to the mansion at breakneck speed, glad that
Ororo had been to afraid to ride on the back of bike. There was no
way he would have made it to West Chester with her like this if
they'd been on his Harley. He'd reached out to Jean hoping he was
strong enough to wake her.
He'd never appreciated knowing a telepath so much in his life,
as he had the moment Jean responded. Telling him that she'd be ready and Xavier was on the way home as well.
Logan had never prayed before in his life, but that night he
prayed to every possible deity he could think of that she wouldn't
die on the white leather seats of Marie's vintage Mustang. He made
the 30 minute trip back to Xavier's in half time begging her not to
die along the way and wondering how long it would take him to find
Victor Creed and make him pay. Permanently.

Now, he was still here waiting for her to wake up. It had taken
him hours to get the stench of Creed's guts cleaned off his claws,
but there was no doubt now. Victor Creed was dead. No healing
factor was going to help him now. He'd made absolutely certain.
Unfortunately, killing Creed hadn't helped Ororo. Nor had it
eased the ache in his heart.
If she died...he would never forgive himself. If she died,
so would he. He'd find away to kill himself.
He'd lost too many. Loosing her would be too much. She had
to come back to him.
Blindly, he stumbled to the door as tears filled his eyes.
Wrenching it open, he stumbled out into the still night as hot tears
fell from his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever
cried, but tonight he was helpless to do anything else.
In the dim light of the kitchen, Jean Grey-Summers cleaned up
the mess he left on the floor and cried tears of her own. Just
because she was married to Scott now didn't mean she didn't still
care for Logan, she cared for anyone who was in as much pain as him.
She hoped beyond hope that Ororo would wake up soon and show him that
she didn't blame him, as Jean knew she wouldn't. Both Ororo and
Logan deserved to find true love, and Jean knew that Logan loved her
best friend deeply.
Jean only hoped Logan realized he deserved love in return.

"Welcome back, Ms. Munroe." A warm familiar voice greeted as
Ororo's eyes fluttered open for the first time in three days.
Ororo blinked as her blurred vision focused in on the
bespectacled and handsome blue furred face smiling down at her.
Dr. Hank Mc Coy was ready to jump for joy. For a while
there, it looked like his dear friend wouldn't be waking up. "It's
most thrilling to have you back with us, my dear."
"Where's Logan." she forced from her parched, aching throat,
the effort producing little more than a shaky whisper. She frowned,
feeling a tight dull ache at the side of her face. A heaviness.
She'd worry about that later. "Is he...a...alright?"
"Hush...save your strength." Hank advised. "How are you
feeling, Ororo?"
"Wh...where is he?" she asked again refusing to be brushed
off as panic flooded her heart.
"He's fine. He went for a walk." Jean's voice said from the
door as she walked into the room. "Oh, Ororo." Jean whispered, as
she hurried to Ororo's bedside, catching her hand in her own. Afraid
to hug her, for fear she'd open up Hank's careful stitch work. "It is
so good to see those pretty eyes of yours again." she told her, her
own filling with tears.
Hank cleared his throat. " I will go and alert Logan and the
others that she has awakened."
"I've already taken care of it Hank, you go get some rest.
I'll check everything out with her. You look exhausted."
Hank shifted his huge bulk in obvious indecision, not wanting
to leave until he was sure all was well for his patient. However,
Jean was a more than competent physician he knew, Xavier had only
contacted him because of the unbearable strain seeing her best friend
in such a state had on the telepath. He nodded his acquiesce to Jean
and leaned over Ororo to brush a gentle kiss on her forehead before
leaving the room, past Logan who stood motionless in the doorway
watching as Jean took Ororo's pulse.
"Logan's here." Jean whispered to her friend. "I can only
give you two a few moments and then I must finish my examination."
"Logan," Jean acknowledged, despite knowing Logan heard her
with his hyperactive hearing. "I will be back in five minutes. Until then you
will not be disturbed." she assured them.
"Thanks." Logan mumbled, his gaze still frozen on Ororo's
small form.

"Logan." Ororo whispered as he approached, struggling to sit
up so she could see him.
"Shhh...don't try to get up. I'm right here, Darlin'" he
told her, moving within her line of vision.
Ororo realized she couldn't get up even if she tried as sharp
pain shot through her arm at the movement. She caught sight of his flinch at
her involuntary grimace and stilled her efforts..
He looked tired, far more haggard than normal even for him.
She wondered when he last slept, as her eyes searched his face. And
his eyes. Guilt. Sadness and ... resignation rested in their haunted hazel depths.
" I'm sorry..."he began, flinching as he took a mental
inventory of damages as he did every time he saw her. Her eye was no
longer swollen, just a deep purple bruise surrounded it. Her lips
still cracked and dry. It was the scars he couldn't see now that
bothered him. The ones hidden beneath the neat bandages over her
throat, covering the deep scratches from his sight. And the one
enormous white square of cottony material so carefully taped to the
side of her face, from her ear to jaw line. It was these, that made
him wish he could have one more shot at killing Sabretooth. The deep
wound that he knew would leave a huge puckered scar over her heart
that lay hidden under the thin white gown she wore, it was that one in particular that made him long to peice Victor Creed back together just so he could torture him a little more than he had.
"Was..wasn't your fault...Lo...Logan."she rasped, through her
sore throat. She remembered the way that vile monster had crushed her
throat, nearly choking her to death when she'd first tried to cry out
for Logan. Then when he held her that last time, his claws digging
into her tender flesh. Fortunately not deep enough to kill, but he'd
caused damage nonetheless.
"Shhh...baby...don't talk. I know it hurts." he told her
leaning closer to her. She did not miss the slight tremor in his
hand as he reached out to stroke back a strand of her hair.
Closing her eyes, momentarily she savored the contact. He'd
been with her in that dark place the whole time. Holding her. His
voice all around her. Telling her how much he loved her. How
beautiful she was. How he needed her. When she'd awakened she was
scared to death when he wasn't there as she had expected him
to be. Disappointed because her first thought was that his words had all been part of beautiful dream.
But now here he was, leaning over her holding her as best he
could given their awkward positions. She could smell the scent of
his skin, feel the thrum of his pulse as he pressed unexpectedly
delicate kisses to her forehead. This was the Logan she had only
become aware of the other night. The Logan who had kissed her with a
shyness that had stunned her into absolute speechlessness. The
gentle side of the man who wore his piss and vinegar attitude like a
second skin to the outside world.
"Thank you for not letting him win." he whispered against her
skin, so softly she barely understood his words.
She wanted to ask him if he was all right. If they had found
the animal responsible for putting her here. She didn't get the
chance. Jean decided to return as promised, immediately shooing Logan
out.
She barely heard Jean's words, as she watched him leave.
Watching his eyes as he turned back to look at her again, just before
he walked out the door. And she knew. He was leaving.


Continue.....

Sending feedback doesn't cost a thing.
Receiving good feedback is priceless.