niceandfluffy2 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
niceandfluffy2) wrote2009-06-19 09:21 pm
niceandfluffy2) wrote2009-06-19 09:21 pm
FIC: Promises: Pop Goes The Weasel (Wolverine slash, NC17)
Promises: Pop Goes The Weasel (11/?) - Part A
Author: Foofy
Rating: NC17
Warnings: AU, graphic sex, violence, medical jargon/operations
Pairings this chapter: Logan/Remy, Victor/Logan, Victor/Wade
Summary: Wade’s teleportation ability proves to be an issue as the team struggle to recover the old Wade from Stryker’s ‘Weapon XI’.
Previous Chapters can be found HERE
Author's Note: Again, the chapter proved too large for LJ to cope with. Not entirely sure how well this one has worked as Wade refused to cooperate with me, but hopefully it's not too out there..!
*
LeBeau liked sex in the morning. That was the only thing Logan could conclude when he was woken at five am with a little Cajun murmur in his ear and an insistent nudge at the meat of his ass with an erection that was so hard it could probably star in action films. He groaned softly, and cracked an eye open to give a suspicious look at the young man who was currently curled up with him. A bright smile aimed itself back at him.
“No,” he murmured in the lowest voice he possessed, not wanting to wake up Victor. They hadn’t managed to go anywhere else other than the hanger for the night, much to Remy’s disgust, but they had located a battered mattress and Victor seemed content with his pile of cardboard and therefore the matter was settled. Gambit moved closer to him with the dedication of one who wanted to squirm all the way into his innermost areas. Logan felt a little rub on his shoulder, and detected a soft purr from the younger man. When this failed to move him, a hand snuck around his hip and between his legs and began to squeeze his groin in a persistent manner. Logan swore softly, and caught the hand before it started another battle.
“I said no,” he hissed back. A little sulky noise greeted that sentence.
“I’ve agreed to a dangerous mission. Who knows when we’ll get the chance again, mon cher?” he whispered back.
“What happened to a good night’s sleep?” Logan argued softly, lifting his head to look across to where Victor was dozing on the other side of the hanger. His brother’s eyes were still closed, Victor curled up like a housecat with Mr Tiddles forming a fuzzy ball on top of his back. Logan sighed in relief before gently smacking the younger man on the thigh.
“Behave,” he warned. A tongue applied itself to his ear, Remy nibbling on the lobe and licking around the edge. Logan felt a pleasurable shiver work its way down his spine, and gritted his teeth. No way. Not in front of Victor. His brother could barely stand being in the same room as Remy as it was, let alone underlining what type of relationship Logan had with him.
“I’m warning you,” he growled softly. Remy chuckled softly.
“I know. And I’m ignoring you,” his tongue moved from ear to neck, nibbling and sucking as though Logan had been served up for a particularly erotic breakfast. Logan’s teeth gritted a little more; he rolled over with a boing-boing of springs and an unimpressed look. Gambit’s mouth moved from neck to mouth, stealing a kiss before Logan could get a word out. Growling softly, not least because he could feel his traitorous body responding, Logan gently pushed him back.
“I said no.” he said firmly, feeling as though he was trying to train a dog. LeBeau snorted softly.
“But you need the sex. You’re all grouchy,” he argued.
“I’m grouchy because you woke me up too early!” Logan cast another look at his brother, but Victor slumbered on. Mr Tiddles yawned and twitched his tail before settling down again. Logan sighed in relief before looking back at LeBeau who was watching him in clear amusement.
“You’re scared of your brother, aren’t you? You know you’re the boss now.”
“I ain’t scared of my brother. I’m conscious of his presence,” Logan hissed back. Remy rolled his eyes and gently pushed him back down onto the mattress.
“He’s a cat. Cats sleep through wars if you let them. He’s not going to notice,” he leaned across Logan’s chest and kissed his mouth again. Remy squirmed onto Logan’s body and triumphantly straddled Logan’s thighs, his eyes sparkling and a worryingly calm grin on his face. “C’mon, mon ami. I’ll even let you go on top if you want. I’ll take my turn when we’re in a place that doesn’t smell of decay,”
Logan glared at him, then looked back at Victor uncomfortably. It seemed downright rude and insensitive to emphasize his relationship, despite their previous arguments. Victor had always been willing to include Logan whenever he had entered into a sexual situation, giving Logan an open invitation to join in regardless of the initial answer, and they were just about to come up against Victor’s battered lover. Logan was also wary on why Remy had suddenly decided things needed to be heated up. For a man who had been unhappy about Victor’s very presence anywhere near him, stripping naked and putting on a show for him seemed a little suspicious. Nothing was ever innocent.
“If I find you’re using me, I’m going to be fucked off,” he looked back at LeBeau steadily. Remy frowned, then snorted in irritation.
“I take dis sort of thing very seriously,” he complained. “I am not using you,”
Logan studied him, then surrendered to the outrage. “Okay, okay, stop pouting,”
“And I don’t pout,” Remy shifted on Logan’s lap in a deliberate retaliation, his voice a low, seductive purr designed to hit the sensual mental spot. “From the first moment I saw you, I thought you were tense,”
“No, you thought I was trying to capture you,”
“Well, dat too. But mostly tense,” Remy traced a pattern on Logan’s chest, which caused another stab of discomfort to hit him. Victor used to draw pictures so damned often, in wood, metal or just a little gentle trace of an outline with his finger. When he did it to Wade, he normally used blood as his paint. Gambit watched him carefully, his finger stilling. “Almost as tense as you are now. What have I done to cause dat, mon ami?”
“Nothing,” Logan said hastily, covering LeBeau’s hand with his own and giving him a smile.
“You’re lying,”
“Consider it the best answer you’re likely to get at this time in the morning,” Logan yawned as carelessly as he could, and reached up to take hold of Remy’s shirt. He pulled him forward, claiming a kiss and praying that the movement would move the younger man’s mind away from awkward questions. The plan half worked, although Remy had moved on from awkward questions to awkward situations; Logan grunted as one of LeBeau’s hands slipped down and began to unfasten his trousers. On the other hand, this was an awkward situation he could probably get used to.
“Persistent bastard, aren’t you?” he closed his eyes and settled further into the mattress as slim fingers carefully released him from the confines of the trousers. Remy chuckled softly.
“The best things in life should be persisted at, mon ami. You-,” LeBeau was stopped by a hand over his mouth. Logan glared at him, and yawned again.
“Too early. Sex is one thing. Philosophy ain’t. Keep it to when I’ve been drinking, okay?” he removed the hand and stretched on the bed lazily. He put his hands behind his head, leaving Remy unrestricted access to his jeans. LeBeau shrugged, and turned his attention to the fastenings; within a few moments, he had released Logan’s length and was running a light finger along the rim in pleased fascination.
Remy leaned down to steal another gentle kiss, his tongue licking at Logan’s mouth before delving inside for a quick taste. His hand continued to stroke him with all the delicate care of a princess checking for dust, discovering the ticklish, sensitive regions and then claiming them for the good of Gambit-kind with a complete lack of mercy. Logan groaned softly and shifted against the mattress again.
“You planning to do a snack or a three course meal?” he asked grumpily. Remy chuckled softly.
“I don’t know, mon ami,” he kissed him again, then sat back up. Abandoning his gentle pleasures, Remy moved on to his own t-shirt and pulled it off. He tossed his hair out of his eyes like an impatient horse, and looked back down at Logan hungrily. Too hungrily. Logan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, then shot another glance at where his brother lay.
Or at least, had been lying. The space was now empty. Logan cursed himself for his lack of attention, and looked around; a pair of beady black eyes and a load of whiskers were immediately in his face.
“FUCK!!” Logan jerked automatically, Remy tightening his thighs to grip on as his lover bucked. He stared at him in bemusement, then looked at the rat that had attempted to stick its whiskered nose in Logan’s ear. LeBeau beamed.
“Awww, it’s that rat of Victor’s. Isn’t it cute?”
“No,” Logan growled, rubbing his ear. Mr Tiddles sniffed him again and then sneezed; the rat gave him a reproachful look for setting off its allergies before scuttling into a nook with a twitch of the tail.
“Do we have any food for him?”
“You start feeding that rat and you can consider this session over,” Logan warned him grumpily. Remy chuckled, then looked back thoughtfully at the empty spot where Victor had been. Logan watched him carefully; the movement had been so casual but there was something in it that suggested LeBeau had been perfectly aware of what Victor was doing at all times. Logan’s eyes narrowed, the faintest of growls sounding in his throat.
Remy looked back, startled. “Okay, okay, no rat feeding. I got it.” he said hastily. “Sorry, mon ami.”
Logan sighed softly. The kid had an innocent look that made him feel like the world’s largest ogre if it was used against him.
“Look, Tiddles ain’t the problem-,”
“Tiddles?!” Gambit’s look was pure delight. “His name is Tiddles?”
Logan frowned and muttered to himself about irritating brothers and their irritating choice of names.
“Mr Tiddles,” he said reluctantly. “Victor likes choosing names that I can’t stand. He called a wild bear ‘Sweetcheeks’ before now. Then there was a vicious raccoon called Lollipop. It doesn’t matter,”
Gambit chuckled, then remembered he was in the middle of being told off. The amusement gave way to an expression full of regret, despite the fact that LeBeau wasn’t quite sure what he was regretful for. Logan eyed him, then lazily raised his hand and squeezed one of his nipples. The carefully crafted look gave way to shock as Remy jumped.
“Hey!!”
Ah, now that was better. That was the real Gambit underneath the well behaved mask of normality. Logan shrugged slightly, and gave a silent thanks to Victor for his trademark ‘behave’ method. Apparently male nipples had a use after all.
“I don’t appreciate you pretending around me. You’re doing this to annoy Victor, aren’t you?”
“Well, of course not-OW!” LeBeau slapped away Logan’s hand again. “Would you stop doing that?! It’s not a control device!”
“It’s taken on a multi-tasking contract. Well?”
Gambit rubbed his stinging nipple, scowling at him. “I didn’t know that Victor would see us,”
“But you really, really hoped, right?” Logan looked at him wearily, then sighed and flopped his head back on the mattress. “Don’t fuck around with Victor, Remy. He’ll break you. Just because he hasn’t done it yet doesn’t mean it’s not on his things to do, and there’s only so much I can do to protect you,”
Remy bristled. “I do not need protecting!”
“Yeah. Right.” Logan rolled his eyes. Gambit growled softly, and gracefully clambered off him with the air of someone planning to sulk for a significant period of time. Logan watched the way the moonlight caressed Gambit’s bare chest, and felt a stab of lust hit him right in the groin. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything until after the event.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve got ways of getting your ass out of trouble…ones which were better than the ones you tried on me.”
Gambit gave him a look that spoke of serious sex droughts in the near future. Logan sighed, and tried to rephrase.
“Fine. You know I respect your abilities-,”
“Oh, god, just stop now!” he shook his head and crawled on hands and knees to the top of the mattress, making a little clicking noise with his tongue as he outstretched his hand. Logan watched him in utter bemusement, until the little whiskered nose of the rat poked itself out of the hole in investigation. He closed his eyes with a groan. Rats. He was beginning to hate rats.
“You’re going to tease and run?” he said pointedly, watching as Mr Tiddles assessed Remy’s hand and found it to be good. The rat scuttled onto his hand and eyed him suspiciously. “And watch out for that rat.”
“The rat’s adorable.” Remy replied, in a manner to suggest that other things in the near vicinity weren’t. Mr Tiddles squeaked and scuttled up Gambit’s arm to sit on his shoulder in a no doubt adorable way. Logan gritted his teeth a little more, and ran his hand over his groin. LeBeau had managed to get him just past the comfortable level of aroused before he decided to abandon him, and now he was aching.
Pushing himself up and swearing inwardly, he managed to get himself back in his jeans and looked down at Remy.
“I’m going to find Victor.”
The look in the boy’s eyes told him this was a bad thing to say. A sullen expression flashed into the feline eyes before it was hidden by the neutral look once more. Logan growled softly and a little helplessly, feeling torn between them.
“Look, he’s my-,”
“Brother. Yes, I know. You’ve said. Endlessly, I might add,” Remy gently stroked Mr Tiddles with a fingertip, giving the rat his full attention. Logan growled again. Now that was a familiar situation.
“I’m just making sure he’s okay,” He had no idea why he was trying to justify this, but the feeling just nagged at him.
“He’s a psychopathic cat-monster with healing powers and razor sharp teeth. Please, exactly how much can he not be okay?” Gambit replied irritably, then sighed and waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Fine. Go after him. I can’t see him moping in a corner and writing bad poetry, but you can never tell. He does wear a lot of black and lurk in shadows.”
“So do you,”
“Yes, but when I do it I have a sense of style,” Remy smiled at him and flourished a bow. He straightened and eyed Logan carefully. “D’you want me to fix that before you go?”
“Fix what?”
Remy gestured to the jeans, which Logan had to admit were fitting badly. He swore softly, then rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. It was hard to deny something which had quite so much presence.
“Well..,”
Gambit chuckled softly and carefully put the rat down before prowling forward with a look in his eyes that could have been either mischief or calculation. He stopped a hair-width’s away from him, running his hand over his chest and looking at him with the confidence returned to the feline eyes.
“Let’s do a deal, eh?” LeBeau scanned the other man’s eyes. “I’ll take your orders this time, but I get to choose how and what we do for our next one. No arguments. Okay?”
His hand slid further down the tight muscles of Logan’s stomach, the fingers toying at the clasp for the trousers. Logan swallowed. It was hard to think when the whole of his blood supply had been redirected to his groin. Watchful eyes studied him carefully, waiting for a decision. Logan shook his head slowly.
“I want some clauses,”
“Clauses?” Remy looked amused. “Like what? No sex on an empty stomach?”
Logan glared at him, the impact of which was ruined by another squeeze of his balls.
“No public places. Audience doubtful, or at least decided at the time,” he growled. Remy tipped his head forward in agreement. Logan hesitated, and ran his mind through other situations. So many things probably wouldn’t feel ridiculous at the height of passion, and they probably wouldn’t be left with much if they did a list of everything he wasn’t too sure on.
“Reasonable games,” he added. Remy made a ‘phsh’ noise.
“Who decides what is reasonable or not, mon ami?” he cocked his head. “Do you wish for a public vote?”
“You can’t do anything you have a suspicion will result in me wanting to knock your block off,” Logan fixed him with a look. Gambit shrugged.
“Agreed.” His tongue ran along the bottom of his lip, Remy’s eyes twinkling. His hand continued to caress Logan’s groin, squeezing and rubbing through the fabric like a child trying to guess what a present was under the wrapping paper. Logan groaned softly, and ran his hands down the younger man’s back to rest on the rise of his rear. Victor would no doubt be okay, just sulking somewhere, he reasoned. He could take an extra five minutes before finding him.
Possibly ten.
“So are you getting undressed now, or am I going to have to rip it from your body?” Logan asked politely. The surprise in Remy’s eyes was noticeable.
“Those are your only clauses?”
“Stop looking so delighted.” Logan grumbled. Remy laughed.
“Of course, mon ami! Now I have to work out where to get pink panties which will fit you…,”
Logan’s hands tightened over Remy’s backside in a pointed way. There was a little chuckle, and the younger man slipped downwards to his knees; another careful handling and Logan was free of constraints, his length straining to the sky as Remy gently ran his hand over the tip.
“I should be doing this to you,” Logan groaned softly.
“Don’t worry, mon ami. You’ll make it up to me,” Remy’s eyes gleamed in the dark. “I guarantee it,”
And as Remy’s talented, wet mouth slid over his waiting erection, Logan had to conclude that the younger man’s plan might well be worthwhile.
*
Victor had retreated away from the main hanger as soon as LeBeau had started staking his territory. He growled softly at the very thought. The pup needed to be broken down, not start claiming Logan as his own personal playground. If this had been the old days, he would have just dragged the boy off to a darkened corner and taught him the error of his ways. Of course now things had changed, and mostly not in a good way.
He leaned against the building and glared out towards the lightening sky with an expression stony enough to be used for foundations. It was easy to tell what LeBeau was trying to do; the boy’s influence lay in his relationship with Logan, and he was intelligent enough to build up his power through any means possible whilst also sending a dig toward Victor. He could imagine LeBeau’s sly look only too well, the innocent face betrayed by eyes that spoke of streetwise cunning. Victor would ordinarily be amused by such amoral behaviour; now, it was simply annoying.
There was a little noise from the building, followed by a chuckle. Victor gritted his teeth harder. He could smell the lust, a powerful sweet-sour odour that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He could hear the noises, soft movements and the occasional burst of laughter, and his imagination could fill in the rest. Wade had been just as fond of a late night or early morning fumble, and it had often ended up a casual blow job depending on how apathetic Victor was feeling at the time.
His eyes grew distant as he looked out at the sky. So often he had felt the feather light touch of Wade’s fingers on his body early in the morning; so often had he felt the way the bed dipped to accommodate the extra weight of the visitor, and smelt the scent of Wade’s arousal strong in the air. Half the time he had pretended he was still asleep, a subtle way to allow Wade the freedom to do whatever he wanted without challenging Victor’s dominant position. As soon as Victor’s eyes were open, he was boss, they both knew that. However, when the lights were dimmed and his attention was elsewhere, Wade could seize the initiative and god, did he seize it.
Wade was a master of the tongue in many ways. It might flap uncontrollably when he was talking, ending him in all types of trouble, but it was just as eager to get involved when it came to caressing. Victor could well remember the way Wade’s tongue leisurely followed the lines of Victor’s cock, more often than not accompanied by Wade humming some theme tune as his own personal porn soundtrack. He was the master of the little flick of the tongue, the tiniest lick causing the most powerful reaction as it homed in on exactly the most sensitive spot on his whole dick. Wade enjoyed paying attention to every nook and cranny with his talented tongue, sliding the warm wetness with wild abandon and then adding more power as soon as Victor had twitched his approval. Nothing was too much for Wade when he put his mind to it. Nothing was too much hard work, or too unpalatable; Wade would suck off an orang-utan with dubious personal hygiene if he thought it would add to the sexual experience. Granted, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but at least Victor had the surprising relaxation of knowing whatever he suggested would get a good review.
And then, of course, once Wade had finished the preliminary licks, he would move onto the main course; Victor’s length would be suckled with strength, power and a steady speed that seemed to time itself perfectly with his building lust. He never had to tell him to get on with it, either. Wade could read him like a book, albeit a particularly erotic one with dubious diagrams and a money off voucher for the local hooker. A lone hand would stray between Victor’s legs more often than not, squeezing his balls as Wade continued to work and occasionally daring to venture a brave finger towards Victor’s back passage. The finger, of course, never got to its destination; Wade still required it for his swords and posing ability to risk getting it ripped off. However, it still gave a strangely welcome tickle of uncharted grounds, of hidden treasures that could never be plundered. That feeling of shameful anticipation merely heightened the sensations that Wade had been so skilfully crafting, although that was something that Victor had never planned to share.
Victor’s lip curled slightly. Treasures that could never be plundered. Well, that was completely out the window now, thanks to Stryker and his metal and the military’s burning urge to act out a physical Pick N Mix to any mutant who crossed their path. Wade hadn’t even been technically a mutant, dancing on the tightrope between normal and freak as he had with so many other things, but that hadn’t saved him. Now Victor had been thrust into a whole new ball game for dominance, and he was still struggling to make headway in a situation that had been perfectly fine for over a hundred years. He had no doubt his submission had added to LeBeau’s challenge, although the kid was going to have a nasty shock if he continued to push him. Perhaps he could do as he always planned; Wade liked gifts, and a gift wrapped Cajun ready for bondage sessions would probably go down well.
He thought about that. A gift wrapped, chocolate covered Cajun. Wade had a bit of a sweet tooth that wasn’t going away. And then, Victor thought in a burst of rare pleasure, he could simply lounge against the wall and watch the kid get the shit beaten out of him without even getting any of the blame. Life would be good.
There was a movement by the door which informed him that life was preparing to be a bastard again. Jimmy. Victor scowled and continued to study the sky with growing intensity, although he knew his brother wouldn’t take the hint. He never did.
“Victor,” the gruff voice was unusually soft. Another hint of how the kid had ruined him. Victor scowled even harder. Wade’s circumstances had taken up much of his attention, which was just as well. Losing his brother again, this time to some pup of a street rat, wasn’t going to happen. However, there was no point in rushing things. If Logan didn’t grow bored of him, then a fool and his pup were soon parted, and Victor was more than happy to do that for him. He just had to bide his time and do it in such a manner that LeBeau took the full blame for what happened.
In the meantime, he had to avoid the ‘heart to heart’ that Logan seemed determined to inflict on them. This had to be Silverfox’s influence. Women had a lot to answer for.
“Won’t you be missed?” Victor asked in reply, not bothering to look back at him. “And have you seen my rat?”
“The rat’s in the hanger. It’s eating a stale chip.”
“Good. Go away,”
Jimmy remained stubbornly behind him. Victor growled softly to himself, then turned to face him. The smell of recent sex was far too powerful, although he was pleased to note that it seemed uncontaminated by LeBeau. Even so, Logan was still there and still being ‘concerned’. Perhaps weakness was a contagious disease, eating through someone until they ended up talking in a soft voice and donating all their time to charity.
“You okay?” Logan said gruffly when neither man did anything more than glare at each other. Victor snorted softly.
“Please. Since when did we check we were okay? Would you like to swap cake recipes as well?” he pushed past him toward the hanger, but Logan’s hand on his shoulder stopped him, pulling him to a halt. His brother still had a distinct lack of patience, which at least was something.
“I know you don’t like Remy-,”
“Hoorah for you.”
“-and I’m sorry-,”
“Sorry? Sorry?” Victor repeated incredulously, then turned on him. “Listen, little brother, if you take the dominant position then you’ll need to start taking responsibility for it. And one of the first rules is that you don’t apologise, and never explain,”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Victor smiled at him. “Oh, you’ll find out. Trust me on that,”
He could feel his brother’s eyes on his back as he walked back into the hanger to get ready to leave. He’d protected his brother for long enough. It was time for Jimmy to earn what Stryker had inadvertently given him, and in the process Victor might then discover exactly what position had been left for him.
God, he hated change.
*
There was a scientist in the corridor screaming at them when they finally returned to the island. That was almost certainly a bad sign. Logan picked up the pace, and began to run as he detected the scent of blood on the air. Blood. Screaming. Chaos. It sounded like Victor’s usual calling card, but Victor was right beside him looking as confused as he did, and, to be fair, not everything bad in the world resulted from his brother.
“Guess we should have been earlier,” Victor muttered into Logan’s ear as they cleared the distance between them and the scientist. The truth was that they were bang on time, even five minutes early if they were being generous. Victor hadn’t said any more about what was bothering him since their little chat, but Logan was used to that; his brother had a more practical air to problems rather than talking about them, although that normally resulted in mess.
Logan glanced to his other side where Remy was trotting, a look of concentration fixed on the youngster’s face as he moved. He’d seen the kid fight, but they were coming up against someone who wasn’t going to be impressed by sticks or exploding items. At best, it would be merely distracting before the blades sank into flesh which couldn’t regenerate.
“Remy, you stay outside,” Logan instructed. “You’re too vulnerable,”
He could feel Gambit’s displeasure, but he didn’t really care. Victor had been right, in a way. If he was planning to take a dominant role then he took responsibility for the men under his command, and part of that was making sure they stayed upright and unbloodied. LeBeau’s mortality was a clear easy target; thankfully, this apparently had also occurred to Remy, who tilted his head forward in grudging agreement.
This proved to be just as well. The words began as soon as they got within earshot of the distressed scientist, so many damned words, mostly said in near hysterical tones which made most of them unintelligible. Unsurprisingly, Victor had a solution; stepping closer, he grabbed the man by the throat and thrust him against the wall, where he proceeded to throttle him until the scientist realised the best thing was to save his breath.
“Okay,” Victor said politely, dropping the man back onto the ground. “Start again.”
The man stared upwards, panting softly and rubbing his throat as he did so.
“Deadpool,” he croaked. “Gone,”
Logan frowned and stepped forward, holding out his hand to stop Victor from immediately moving back to strangle the rest of the information out of him.
“What d’you mean, he’s gone? Someone’s taken him?” he asked carefully, speaking slowly to allow the near panic stricken man the ability to understand him. The scientist shook his head and looked beseechingly at him as though Logan might be psychic. Logan scowled internally. He had struggled to understand what the hell was going on when the ‘experts’ answered his questions, let alone having to guess.
Victor growled in frustration, clearly thinking the same thing.
“That’s it. I’m going in,” he snapped. Gambit sighed pointedly before crouching down by the scientist, who was watching him with big, wide eyes. Logan could see LeBeau’s appeal; the kid looked like a normal, jeans and t-shirt and a friendly smile which suggested the only thing he was about to do was deliver the newspaper and wish someone a good morning.
“It’s okay,” Remy soothed softly with a voice that was made to discuss cupcakes. “Just focus on getting your breath back. You’ll be fine. Breathe in…breathe out.. that’s it, you’re doing great,”
Logan frowned and shifted positions, watching the exchange carefully. The white coat had almost completely forgotten about the two ferals as he stared at Gambit as though he was his last possible lifeline. Gradually the intense scent of fear began to lessen as Remy smiled at him with a sweet, warm-hearted smile that spoke of summer days and cool lemonade. Logan smiled ruefully, and glanced at Victor, who had rolled his eyes in irritation.
“So… can you tell me what’s happened?” Remy asked softly. “Don’t worry about Victor. He’s just grumpy in the mornings,”
Victor growled softly, clearly wanting to kick any part of Remy’s body he could reach but forcing himself to resist the temptation. The elder feral folded his arms across his chest and glared at the scientist in the same way a dog would to a cat who had just dared to stroll across its back yard and piss in its water bowl. The scientist glanced fearfully from Victor back to the comforting warmth of Remy, and licked his lips.
“Wilson. He’s gone crazy,”
“Gone crazy?” Logan replied in disbelief.
The scientist slowly nodded, his gaze darting around him as though expecting Wade to turn up any minute. Logan sighed. So much for a simple operation.
“So what happened?” he asked tiredly. Wade relatively sane was normally a headache. Wade insane only promised to be trouble. The man looked around him again cautiously, then leaned forward.
“They did both his mouth and the removal of the control tab yesterday, and all indicators suggest that it was a success,” the scientist whispered. “We were waiting for his mind to adapt to its loss before trying to remove any other talent. But when he finally gained control, he just…,”
The scientist trailed into a series of little hiccupping mumbles, his eyes wide and one hand waving around in what Logan assumed was a descriptive manner. He sighed softly, suspecting that Wade had tried something else other than a cup of tea and a biscuit. The man wasn’t a mercenary because he looked good in the outfit, after all, and the scent of blood was so strong that someone was leaking.
“Where is he now?” Victor asked impatiently. “I’ll get him,”
Remy snorted softly, looking back at Victor in disgust. “No, you won’t. You’ll just make things worse.”
Victor aimed an evil look at Gambit that suggested he was simply deciding where to insert the claws.
“He’ll listen to me,” he growled.
“Can’t you see what’s happened?” Gambit replied in frustration, ignoring Logan’s glare to shut him up. “They did that damned healing factor right at the start so he could survive the injuries that you inflicted. That ruins the anaesthetic, doesn’t it? So he’s been awake for every single thing they’ve done to him, unable to fight back. Wouldn’t you go nuts with the same thing?”
“Oh, great. Your boy toy’s gone all therapist on us,” Victor muttered at Logan. “If he starts talking about leather couches, I reserve the right to hit him,”
LeBeau ignored him and turned back to the scientist, making another soothing noise and patting him on the arm. Logan eyed him curiously; he hadn’t given too much thought over which files Remy had been reading last night, but the lack of surprise over the situation suggested that Wade’s file had been given more than a cursory glance.
Either way, it didn’t matter. Their main priority was recapturing the elusive Wade, although he had no idea what they were going to do with him once they’d done that. He had been hard enough to keep to one room during Team X, and Logan had a suspicion a big pile of pornography magazines weren’t going to be successful this time.
“Is that true about the operations?” he asked the scientist gruffly. A little too gruffly. The white coat looked at him with eyes that would make Bambi jealous, and pressed a little further against the wall.
“I … well… ,” he stammered, the world’s first talking wallpaper.
“Great,” Logan sighed softly, and looked back at the door. He could appreciate Wade’s need to kill off the scientists who had experimented on him, but there was no guarantee on how Wade would carry out his personal revenge. Knowing Wade, it could be anything from personal sword attack to amazing exploding sex toys. All in all, they were going to have to get involved, and he had no idea what affect that was going to have on Victor. If they did this wrong, they could end up with two violently dangerous men instead of one.
“C’mon.” he growled finally. “Let’s get in that room,”
“About time,” Victor grinned and immediately turned to the doorway, his teeth bared and his claws lengthening.
“He’s not in there.” the scientist managed to stammer out before they had even managed to take a step away. Logan closed his eyes and groaned to himself. Of course not. That would be too easy. He stopped and tried to calm himself down, but the frustration was already building. Too much talking, not enough doing things.
“Then where is he?” he snarled over his shoulder.
“I… I…,” The stuck record was back, and it wasn’t playing a tune that Logan liked.
“Whoa, it’s okay, mon ami,” Remy soothed again, and shot Logan a look that stated his irritation. “If you two could go stand over there then I’ll find out what you need to know. You’re just scaring him now,”
“Tragic,” Victor murmured, who had been studying the door for the best route to destroy it. Logan growled, but accepted the point; he grabbed hold of Victor’s arm and irritably tugged him further along the corridor. Victor looked at him in utter bemusement, then laughed at the implication.
“You’re worried about scaring him? God, you are getting soft!” he snorted.
“Is that what you thought last night?” Logan growled back. Now was not the time to start pissing him off - there were far too many people who wanted to do that for him as it was. Victor’s grin abruptly vanished, a harder look entering his eyes and a stubborn sulky line to his mouth. He growled under his breath, and raked his claws down the nearest wall impatiently. LeBeau eyed them suspiciously from down the corridor, just in case they were planning something unsuitable, then turned back to the scientist. Victor’s expression turned even stonier as time crept by, the feral clearly desperate to get going.
“This is a waste of time,” he growled softly into Logan’s ear. “And since when did card boy start making the orders, anyway? Don’t let him forget his position in this.”
“He’s good with people,” Logan scanned the corridor behind them and ignoring the last sentence. Victor snorted.
“Yeah. Conning them. That kid-,”
“-that kid can hear you.” Remy replied calmly as he walked back to them. “So I’d appreciate you bitching about me when I’ve gone for a piss, okay?” Feline eyes slid to Logan, completely dismissing Victor once again. “He doesn’t know where Wade’s gone. He’s still got the teleport, so he could be anywhere. Trouble is… okay, the additional trouble… is that he doesn’t appear to have full control over it anyway. Teleport was something that was connected to the control chip rather than any intention of Wade himself looking after it. He’s had no practise and he’s scared.”
“Wade doesn’t do scared. He does loud.” Logan replied automatically, although his heart had already plummeted solidly to his boots again. Teleport and no doubt lasers and swords as well, all rolled up in a crazy package. If they managed to get Wade pinned down without the whole of the island exploding then they were doing well. LeBeau gave a snort.
“Of course he gets scared, he just has a defensive mechanism in place. He’s not a machine. C’mon, think about it.” Remy looked between them. “You two have had this healing ability for all of your life. You’ve had injuries, you’ve accepted the pain and worked through it. Wade’s a guy who spent all of his life training and perfecting his abilities so he didn’t get shot, and he didn’t get stabbed, and suddenly he’s getting operations performed on him without painkillers?” Gambit shrugged. “I’d be scared, mon ami. Especially when they added the gag to stop him screaming. Apparently the needle through the eyeball was particularly distressing,”
Victor started to study the corridor in unnatural silence. Gambit watched him, then shrugged and studied Logan.
“He’s going to strike out at anything that looks faintly official.” he said softly. “Let me go after him. I’ve never been part of this place. I won’t be a threat to him. I don’t look like a scientist, or even someone they’d trust to make the coffee.”
“That’s true,” Victor growled softly. Remy ignored him, his attention fixed on Logan.
“C’mon. You two go talk to whoever the surgery guy was yesterday, and I’ll go find Wade. Okay?” Gambit looked at him, his voice soft and appealing. Logan shook his head stubbornly.
“Wade’s too strong for you. You’ll go down within seconds.”
“I’m flattered,” Remy said dryly.
“You’ll be flattened.” Victor remarked, then paused and grinned. “Actually, that sounds like a plan with no drawbacks. Go for it.”
Logan glared at his unrepentant brother before looking back at Remy who had a particularly stubborn look of his own. Gambit sighed and folded his arms, tapping a foot.
“Look, I’m not some innocent, weak kid. I can get myself out of trouble,” LeBeau replied pointedly. Victor snorted.
“Yeah. Like you managed to get away when I came to drag you, kicking and screaming, off to the cell,” he raised an eyebrow. Remy rolled his eyes and folded his arms tighter.
“I thought you were keen for me to do dis,” he hissed sideways. Victor paused.
“Good point. I retract my statement.” he stretched, and sniffed the air. He nodded and grabbed hold of Logan’s arm, tugging him to the right. “The doc’s over here. There’s a lot of blood though, so let’s go before we find out he’s bled to death without leaving us a memo. Some people are bastard inconsiderate,”
Logan couldn’t glare at both of them at the same time, so simply looked from one to the other with an expression that spoke of very rude words. He growled in frustration, only too aware that LeBeau would end up doing what he wanted anyway. Remy might have innocent, beseeching eyes, but his obedient servant routine was a pure act. Victor grinned and gave a gentle kick to Remy’s shin.
“He’s swaying. Beat it, puppy. Go find Wade, and be nice.”
“You’re telling me to be nice?!” Gambit snorted, although he began to head off. “No wonder the only way you get laid is when your partner’s unconscious.”
Victor’s smile slightly widened, and he slapped his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Nice kid you have there. You just want to tie him up, slap him around and then slit his throat. Romantically, of course.” he began to head toward the door he had already indicated. “Right. Let’s go find us a clipboard wielder.”
Logan shook his head slowly, and grudgingly began to follow. It was like trying to herd a group of suicidal ferrets who had been overloaded on sugar. He knew that fighting against it would simply lead to his own loss of mind, but that didn’t make it easier.
Victor stopped at the door and sniffed; he glanced back at Logan and winked, before calmly booting the door down.
“Ding dong, Avon calling-,” Victor stopped dead, which was never a good sign. Logan stepped into the room and stared at the three men who were in various states of slouched, bloodstained and clearly on edge.
“Fuck,” he muttered, and crossed the floor to crouch in front of Dr Jones, who at least was still breathing. One arm was almost padded by the amount of bandages wrapped around it, bloodstains and a ripped coat clearly showing that Wade’s blade had made its own personal introduction. Logan looked around the other men, then back at the doctor who was watching him carefully.
“Well,” Dr Jones said after a pause. “You took your sodding time to turn up, didn’t you?”
“What happened?” Logan was a little relieved that the man could still talk, although he didn’t like the whiteness to the doctor’s skin. The man snorted.
“The pizza boy took a bigger tip than we’d planned,” he said dryly, then winced as he moved his arm. “Wilson recovered well from the surgery to remove the control tip, and his mouth was also a success apart from a few scars that don’t appear to be healing as I’d expect. As soon as he was able to make his own decisions, however, he apparently chose the pointer route. We caught him with a sedative which seems to slow him down a little, but he teleported before we could stop him.”
“Sedatives won’t last for long,” Victor growled. “His system’ll flush that pretty soon. Better hope that LeBeau finds him before he gets fully energised.”
Dr Jones raised his head at that, focusing on Victor then looking at Logan in a manner that Logan recognised as the classic ‘did he just say..’ movement. Logan narrowed his eyes.
“What?” he asked slowly. The doctor coughed, then shook his head.
“If you mean you’ve sent Remy LeBeau after him, then I sincerely hope they don’t meet.” Tired eyes raised themselves to Logan’s. “The control chip removal was a success, but he’ll have some remnants of it for a few days. His mind has to readjust.”
Logan studied him, not quite understanding. “So you’re saying…?”
Jones rolled his eyes, which appeared to be one of the few things that would work without issue.
“I’m saying,” he said, as patiently as he could. “that there’s going to be a few ‘official’ orders that he’ll do automatically if faced with the situation. And if I remember correctly, the last official note I read concerning Mr LeBeau was not one that concerned a sweet pat on the head. He’s an escaped prisoner, and therefore-,”
“-ah, shit,” Logan stood up again quickly, and looked at Victor who was still lounging unconcerned against a table. Victor raised an eyebrow.
“Can I assume that Plan A has moved on to Plan B?” he asked with a smile. “And don’t worry yourself. You can tell they haven’t come into contact with each other yet, the floor hasn’t vibrated.”
“You’re not helping, Victor,” Logan growled, then looked back at the doctor. “We’ll go find them. You stay here so we know where you are. What else needs to be done?”
“Lasers. Swords. Teleportation still needs to be done but we can only hamper it, we can’t completely remove it,” Jones replied bluntly. “Get us Wilson and we’ll be able to do the lasers and remove the swords from his arms, but the pair of you will need to keep him subdued. We just can’t keep him on the bed anymore, and the surgery will require both arms to be sliced open near the elbow. He is also squeamish about things going into his eyes.”
“Funny, that,” Victor muttered, pushing himself from the table and stalking to the door. “C’mon, Jimmy. We’ve got a Wade to catch.”
“Wait,” Jones eased himself up with a little groan, and walked across to one of the tables. There was the sound of rummaging that always seemed to appear with scientists at some point or other, then a little noise of satisfaction. Logan eyed the needle in the other man’s hand dubiously, watching as the doctor took hold of a small bottle of liquid and began to fill it up.
“What’s that supposed to do?” he asked suspiciously.
“Stop him.” Jones said bluntly, tapping the syringe with his finger to release any air bubbles. Victor snorted.
“That’s not gonna do anything,”
“Much as I love listening to the ramblings of someone who probably can’t even spell his own name, I’ll go with my research.” Jones eyed him, then handed the syringe to Logan who took it gingerly. He looked at the lime-green liquid, then back up at the doctor.
“I’m injecting him with swamp water?”
“Hilarious. No. And no, it’s not a sedative. Your main problem will be his ability to teleport, even if you defeat him in battle.” Jones gave a nod to the syringe. “That is designed to disrupt the brain’s ability to control the teleportation device. Both his mind and the talent will remain undamaged, therefore the healing ability will not come into play whilst the formula is still in effect, but the commands will simply not get through to the talent. It has a very short lifespan so you will need to take him down soon after injecting it. I would recommend thigh or buttock if you get a choice.”
“We’re capturing him, not serving him as Sunday lunch,” Victor grumbled.
“That’s a shame, I had a wonderful suggestion on where to put the stuffing.” The doctor eyed him steadily, then turned back to Logan. “Get him back here. We’ll do a more permanent disruption, and remove the lasers. I have a suitable cage where you can leave him for tonight until we can remove his swords.”
Victor’s head snapped up. “Cage?”
“He’s too dangerous to be released at this time. And no, I’m not in the mood to be politically correct.” Jones studied him carefully. “I’ll get the table set up for the operation. Just get him back here before he does any more damage,”
Logan nodded in agreement, walking to the door and taking hold of Victor’s arm before the feral decided to rip the doctor a new asshole. He could feel his brother vibrate with anger but Victor was using a bit of rarely used self restraint. They could decide on the cage when they actually caught up with the man in question; the chance to put him in there would be a fine thing.
He sniffed as they stalked into the corridor and let the door close behind them. He could faintly smell Wade’s scent, but the blood was masking out much of it and the teleportation would cause trails to simply pop out of existence. However, he had no doubt they would find him in the end. What state they’d find Remy, on the other hand, was another matter.
Logan cursed to himself as he started to move. He knew he shouldn’t have let the kid go.
*
ONWARDS TO PART B
.
Author: Foofy
Rating: NC17
Warnings: AU, graphic sex, violence, medical jargon/operations
Pairings this chapter: Logan/Remy, Victor/Logan, Victor/Wade
Summary: Wade’s teleportation ability proves to be an issue as the team struggle to recover the old Wade from Stryker’s ‘Weapon XI’.
Previous Chapters can be found HERE
Author's Note: Again, the chapter proved too large for LJ to cope with. Not entirely sure how well this one has worked as Wade refused to cooperate with me, but hopefully it's not too out there..!
LeBeau liked sex in the morning. That was the only thing Logan could conclude when he was woken at five am with a little Cajun murmur in his ear and an insistent nudge at the meat of his ass with an erection that was so hard it could probably star in action films. He groaned softly, and cracked an eye open to give a suspicious look at the young man who was currently curled up with him. A bright smile aimed itself back at him.
“No,” he murmured in the lowest voice he possessed, not wanting to wake up Victor. They hadn’t managed to go anywhere else other than the hanger for the night, much to Remy’s disgust, but they had located a battered mattress and Victor seemed content with his pile of cardboard and therefore the matter was settled. Gambit moved closer to him with the dedication of one who wanted to squirm all the way into his innermost areas. Logan felt a little rub on his shoulder, and detected a soft purr from the younger man. When this failed to move him, a hand snuck around his hip and between his legs and began to squeeze his groin in a persistent manner. Logan swore softly, and caught the hand before it started another battle.
“I said no,” he hissed back. A little sulky noise greeted that sentence.
“I’ve agreed to a dangerous mission. Who knows when we’ll get the chance again, mon cher?” he whispered back.
“What happened to a good night’s sleep?” Logan argued softly, lifting his head to look across to where Victor was dozing on the other side of the hanger. His brother’s eyes were still closed, Victor curled up like a housecat with Mr Tiddles forming a fuzzy ball on top of his back. Logan sighed in relief before gently smacking the younger man on the thigh.
“Behave,” he warned. A tongue applied itself to his ear, Remy nibbling on the lobe and licking around the edge. Logan felt a pleasurable shiver work its way down his spine, and gritted his teeth. No way. Not in front of Victor. His brother could barely stand being in the same room as Remy as it was, let alone underlining what type of relationship Logan had with him.
“I’m warning you,” he growled softly. Remy chuckled softly.
“I know. And I’m ignoring you,” his tongue moved from ear to neck, nibbling and sucking as though Logan had been served up for a particularly erotic breakfast. Logan’s teeth gritted a little more; he rolled over with a boing-boing of springs and an unimpressed look. Gambit’s mouth moved from neck to mouth, stealing a kiss before Logan could get a word out. Growling softly, not least because he could feel his traitorous body responding, Logan gently pushed him back.
“I said no.” he said firmly, feeling as though he was trying to train a dog. LeBeau snorted softly.
“But you need the sex. You’re all grouchy,” he argued.
“I’m grouchy because you woke me up too early!” Logan cast another look at his brother, but Victor slumbered on. Mr Tiddles yawned and twitched his tail before settling down again. Logan sighed in relief before looking back at LeBeau who was watching him in clear amusement.
“You’re scared of your brother, aren’t you? You know you’re the boss now.”
“I ain’t scared of my brother. I’m conscious of his presence,” Logan hissed back. Remy rolled his eyes and gently pushed him back down onto the mattress.
“He’s a cat. Cats sleep through wars if you let them. He’s not going to notice,” he leaned across Logan’s chest and kissed his mouth again. Remy squirmed onto Logan’s body and triumphantly straddled Logan’s thighs, his eyes sparkling and a worryingly calm grin on his face. “C’mon, mon ami. I’ll even let you go on top if you want. I’ll take my turn when we’re in a place that doesn’t smell of decay,”
Logan glared at him, then looked back at Victor uncomfortably. It seemed downright rude and insensitive to emphasize his relationship, despite their previous arguments. Victor had always been willing to include Logan whenever he had entered into a sexual situation, giving Logan an open invitation to join in regardless of the initial answer, and they were just about to come up against Victor’s battered lover. Logan was also wary on why Remy had suddenly decided things needed to be heated up. For a man who had been unhappy about Victor’s very presence anywhere near him, stripping naked and putting on a show for him seemed a little suspicious. Nothing was ever innocent.
“If I find you’re using me, I’m going to be fucked off,” he looked back at LeBeau steadily. Remy frowned, then snorted in irritation.
“I take dis sort of thing very seriously,” he complained. “I am not using you,”
Logan studied him, then surrendered to the outrage. “Okay, okay, stop pouting,”
“And I don’t pout,” Remy shifted on Logan’s lap in a deliberate retaliation, his voice a low, seductive purr designed to hit the sensual mental spot. “From the first moment I saw you, I thought you were tense,”
“No, you thought I was trying to capture you,”
“Well, dat too. But mostly tense,” Remy traced a pattern on Logan’s chest, which caused another stab of discomfort to hit him. Victor used to draw pictures so damned often, in wood, metal or just a little gentle trace of an outline with his finger. When he did it to Wade, he normally used blood as his paint. Gambit watched him carefully, his finger stilling. “Almost as tense as you are now. What have I done to cause dat, mon ami?”
“Nothing,” Logan said hastily, covering LeBeau’s hand with his own and giving him a smile.
“You’re lying,”
“Consider it the best answer you’re likely to get at this time in the morning,” Logan yawned as carelessly as he could, and reached up to take hold of Remy’s shirt. He pulled him forward, claiming a kiss and praying that the movement would move the younger man’s mind away from awkward questions. The plan half worked, although Remy had moved on from awkward questions to awkward situations; Logan grunted as one of LeBeau’s hands slipped down and began to unfasten his trousers. On the other hand, this was an awkward situation he could probably get used to.
“Persistent bastard, aren’t you?” he closed his eyes and settled further into the mattress as slim fingers carefully released him from the confines of the trousers. Remy chuckled softly.
“The best things in life should be persisted at, mon ami. You-,” LeBeau was stopped by a hand over his mouth. Logan glared at him, and yawned again.
“Too early. Sex is one thing. Philosophy ain’t. Keep it to when I’ve been drinking, okay?” he removed the hand and stretched on the bed lazily. He put his hands behind his head, leaving Remy unrestricted access to his jeans. LeBeau shrugged, and turned his attention to the fastenings; within a few moments, he had released Logan’s length and was running a light finger along the rim in pleased fascination.
Remy leaned down to steal another gentle kiss, his tongue licking at Logan’s mouth before delving inside for a quick taste. His hand continued to stroke him with all the delicate care of a princess checking for dust, discovering the ticklish, sensitive regions and then claiming them for the good of Gambit-kind with a complete lack of mercy. Logan groaned softly and shifted against the mattress again.
“You planning to do a snack or a three course meal?” he asked grumpily. Remy chuckled softly.
“I don’t know, mon ami,” he kissed him again, then sat back up. Abandoning his gentle pleasures, Remy moved on to his own t-shirt and pulled it off. He tossed his hair out of his eyes like an impatient horse, and looked back down at Logan hungrily. Too hungrily. Logan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, then shot another glance at where his brother lay.
Or at least, had been lying. The space was now empty. Logan cursed himself for his lack of attention, and looked around; a pair of beady black eyes and a load of whiskers were immediately in his face.
“FUCK!!” Logan jerked automatically, Remy tightening his thighs to grip on as his lover bucked. He stared at him in bemusement, then looked at the rat that had attempted to stick its whiskered nose in Logan’s ear. LeBeau beamed.
“Awww, it’s that rat of Victor’s. Isn’t it cute?”
“No,” Logan growled, rubbing his ear. Mr Tiddles sniffed him again and then sneezed; the rat gave him a reproachful look for setting off its allergies before scuttling into a nook with a twitch of the tail.
“Do we have any food for him?”
“You start feeding that rat and you can consider this session over,” Logan warned him grumpily. Remy chuckled, then looked back thoughtfully at the empty spot where Victor had been. Logan watched him carefully; the movement had been so casual but there was something in it that suggested LeBeau had been perfectly aware of what Victor was doing at all times. Logan’s eyes narrowed, the faintest of growls sounding in his throat.
Remy looked back, startled. “Okay, okay, no rat feeding. I got it.” he said hastily. “Sorry, mon ami.”
Logan sighed softly. The kid had an innocent look that made him feel like the world’s largest ogre if it was used against him.
“Look, Tiddles ain’t the problem-,”
“Tiddles?!” Gambit’s look was pure delight. “His name is Tiddles?”
Logan frowned and muttered to himself about irritating brothers and their irritating choice of names.
“Mr Tiddles,” he said reluctantly. “Victor likes choosing names that I can’t stand. He called a wild bear ‘Sweetcheeks’ before now. Then there was a vicious raccoon called Lollipop. It doesn’t matter,”
Gambit chuckled, then remembered he was in the middle of being told off. The amusement gave way to an expression full of regret, despite the fact that LeBeau wasn’t quite sure what he was regretful for. Logan eyed him, then lazily raised his hand and squeezed one of his nipples. The carefully crafted look gave way to shock as Remy jumped.
“Hey!!”
Ah, now that was better. That was the real Gambit underneath the well behaved mask of normality. Logan shrugged slightly, and gave a silent thanks to Victor for his trademark ‘behave’ method. Apparently male nipples had a use after all.
“I don’t appreciate you pretending around me. You’re doing this to annoy Victor, aren’t you?”
“Well, of course not-OW!” LeBeau slapped away Logan’s hand again. “Would you stop doing that?! It’s not a control device!”
“It’s taken on a multi-tasking contract. Well?”
Gambit rubbed his stinging nipple, scowling at him. “I didn’t know that Victor would see us,”
“But you really, really hoped, right?” Logan looked at him wearily, then sighed and flopped his head back on the mattress. “Don’t fuck around with Victor, Remy. He’ll break you. Just because he hasn’t done it yet doesn’t mean it’s not on his things to do, and there’s only so much I can do to protect you,”
Remy bristled. “I do not need protecting!”
“Yeah. Right.” Logan rolled his eyes. Gambit growled softly, and gracefully clambered off him with the air of someone planning to sulk for a significant period of time. Logan watched the way the moonlight caressed Gambit’s bare chest, and felt a stab of lust hit him right in the groin. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything until after the event.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve got ways of getting your ass out of trouble…ones which were better than the ones you tried on me.”
Gambit gave him a look that spoke of serious sex droughts in the near future. Logan sighed, and tried to rephrase.
“Fine. You know I respect your abilities-,”
“Oh, god, just stop now!” he shook his head and crawled on hands and knees to the top of the mattress, making a little clicking noise with his tongue as he outstretched his hand. Logan watched him in utter bemusement, until the little whiskered nose of the rat poked itself out of the hole in investigation. He closed his eyes with a groan. Rats. He was beginning to hate rats.
“You’re going to tease and run?” he said pointedly, watching as Mr Tiddles assessed Remy’s hand and found it to be good. The rat scuttled onto his hand and eyed him suspiciously. “And watch out for that rat.”
“The rat’s adorable.” Remy replied, in a manner to suggest that other things in the near vicinity weren’t. Mr Tiddles squeaked and scuttled up Gambit’s arm to sit on his shoulder in a no doubt adorable way. Logan gritted his teeth a little more, and ran his hand over his groin. LeBeau had managed to get him just past the comfortable level of aroused before he decided to abandon him, and now he was aching.
Pushing himself up and swearing inwardly, he managed to get himself back in his jeans and looked down at Remy.
“I’m going to find Victor.”
The look in the boy’s eyes told him this was a bad thing to say. A sullen expression flashed into the feline eyes before it was hidden by the neutral look once more. Logan growled softly and a little helplessly, feeling torn between them.
“Look, he’s my-,”
“Brother. Yes, I know. You’ve said. Endlessly, I might add,” Remy gently stroked Mr Tiddles with a fingertip, giving the rat his full attention. Logan growled again. Now that was a familiar situation.
“I’m just making sure he’s okay,” He had no idea why he was trying to justify this, but the feeling just nagged at him.
“He’s a psychopathic cat-monster with healing powers and razor sharp teeth. Please, exactly how much can he not be okay?” Gambit replied irritably, then sighed and waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Fine. Go after him. I can’t see him moping in a corner and writing bad poetry, but you can never tell. He does wear a lot of black and lurk in shadows.”
“So do you,”
“Yes, but when I do it I have a sense of style,” Remy smiled at him and flourished a bow. He straightened and eyed Logan carefully. “D’you want me to fix that before you go?”
“Fix what?”
Remy gestured to the jeans, which Logan had to admit were fitting badly. He swore softly, then rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. It was hard to deny something which had quite so much presence.
“Well..,”
Gambit chuckled softly and carefully put the rat down before prowling forward with a look in his eyes that could have been either mischief or calculation. He stopped a hair-width’s away from him, running his hand over his chest and looking at him with the confidence returned to the feline eyes.
“Let’s do a deal, eh?” LeBeau scanned the other man’s eyes. “I’ll take your orders this time, but I get to choose how and what we do for our next one. No arguments. Okay?”
His hand slid further down the tight muscles of Logan’s stomach, the fingers toying at the clasp for the trousers. Logan swallowed. It was hard to think when the whole of his blood supply had been redirected to his groin. Watchful eyes studied him carefully, waiting for a decision. Logan shook his head slowly.
“I want some clauses,”
“Clauses?” Remy looked amused. “Like what? No sex on an empty stomach?”
Logan glared at him, the impact of which was ruined by another squeeze of his balls.
“No public places. Audience doubtful, or at least decided at the time,” he growled. Remy tipped his head forward in agreement. Logan hesitated, and ran his mind through other situations. So many things probably wouldn’t feel ridiculous at the height of passion, and they probably wouldn’t be left with much if they did a list of everything he wasn’t too sure on.
“Reasonable games,” he added. Remy made a ‘phsh’ noise.
“Who decides what is reasonable or not, mon ami?” he cocked his head. “Do you wish for a public vote?”
“You can’t do anything you have a suspicion will result in me wanting to knock your block off,” Logan fixed him with a look. Gambit shrugged.
“Agreed.” His tongue ran along the bottom of his lip, Remy’s eyes twinkling. His hand continued to caress Logan’s groin, squeezing and rubbing through the fabric like a child trying to guess what a present was under the wrapping paper. Logan groaned softly, and ran his hands down the younger man’s back to rest on the rise of his rear. Victor would no doubt be okay, just sulking somewhere, he reasoned. He could take an extra five minutes before finding him.
Possibly ten.
“So are you getting undressed now, or am I going to have to rip it from your body?” Logan asked politely. The surprise in Remy’s eyes was noticeable.
“Those are your only clauses?”
“Stop looking so delighted.” Logan grumbled. Remy laughed.
“Of course, mon ami! Now I have to work out where to get pink panties which will fit you…,”
Logan’s hands tightened over Remy’s backside in a pointed way. There was a little chuckle, and the younger man slipped downwards to his knees; another careful handling and Logan was free of constraints, his length straining to the sky as Remy gently ran his hand over the tip.
“I should be doing this to you,” Logan groaned softly.
“Don’t worry, mon ami. You’ll make it up to me,” Remy’s eyes gleamed in the dark. “I guarantee it,”
And as Remy’s talented, wet mouth slid over his waiting erection, Logan had to conclude that the younger man’s plan might well be worthwhile.
Victor had retreated away from the main hanger as soon as LeBeau had started staking his territory. He growled softly at the very thought. The pup needed to be broken down, not start claiming Logan as his own personal playground. If this had been the old days, he would have just dragged the boy off to a darkened corner and taught him the error of his ways. Of course now things had changed, and mostly not in a good way.
He leaned against the building and glared out towards the lightening sky with an expression stony enough to be used for foundations. It was easy to tell what LeBeau was trying to do; the boy’s influence lay in his relationship with Logan, and he was intelligent enough to build up his power through any means possible whilst also sending a dig toward Victor. He could imagine LeBeau’s sly look only too well, the innocent face betrayed by eyes that spoke of streetwise cunning. Victor would ordinarily be amused by such amoral behaviour; now, it was simply annoying.
There was a little noise from the building, followed by a chuckle. Victor gritted his teeth harder. He could smell the lust, a powerful sweet-sour odour that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He could hear the noises, soft movements and the occasional burst of laughter, and his imagination could fill in the rest. Wade had been just as fond of a late night or early morning fumble, and it had often ended up a casual blow job depending on how apathetic Victor was feeling at the time.
His eyes grew distant as he looked out at the sky. So often he had felt the feather light touch of Wade’s fingers on his body early in the morning; so often had he felt the way the bed dipped to accommodate the extra weight of the visitor, and smelt the scent of Wade’s arousal strong in the air. Half the time he had pretended he was still asleep, a subtle way to allow Wade the freedom to do whatever he wanted without challenging Victor’s dominant position. As soon as Victor’s eyes were open, he was boss, they both knew that. However, when the lights were dimmed and his attention was elsewhere, Wade could seize the initiative and god, did he seize it.
Wade was a master of the tongue in many ways. It might flap uncontrollably when he was talking, ending him in all types of trouble, but it was just as eager to get involved when it came to caressing. Victor could well remember the way Wade’s tongue leisurely followed the lines of Victor’s cock, more often than not accompanied by Wade humming some theme tune as his own personal porn soundtrack. He was the master of the little flick of the tongue, the tiniest lick causing the most powerful reaction as it homed in on exactly the most sensitive spot on his whole dick. Wade enjoyed paying attention to every nook and cranny with his talented tongue, sliding the warm wetness with wild abandon and then adding more power as soon as Victor had twitched his approval. Nothing was too much for Wade when he put his mind to it. Nothing was too much hard work, or too unpalatable; Wade would suck off an orang-utan with dubious personal hygiene if he thought it would add to the sexual experience. Granted, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but at least Victor had the surprising relaxation of knowing whatever he suggested would get a good review.
And then, of course, once Wade had finished the preliminary licks, he would move onto the main course; Victor’s length would be suckled with strength, power and a steady speed that seemed to time itself perfectly with his building lust. He never had to tell him to get on with it, either. Wade could read him like a book, albeit a particularly erotic one with dubious diagrams and a money off voucher for the local hooker. A lone hand would stray between Victor’s legs more often than not, squeezing his balls as Wade continued to work and occasionally daring to venture a brave finger towards Victor’s back passage. The finger, of course, never got to its destination; Wade still required it for his swords and posing ability to risk getting it ripped off. However, it still gave a strangely welcome tickle of uncharted grounds, of hidden treasures that could never be plundered. That feeling of shameful anticipation merely heightened the sensations that Wade had been so skilfully crafting, although that was something that Victor had never planned to share.
Victor’s lip curled slightly. Treasures that could never be plundered. Well, that was completely out the window now, thanks to Stryker and his metal and the military’s burning urge to act out a physical Pick N Mix to any mutant who crossed their path. Wade hadn’t even been technically a mutant, dancing on the tightrope between normal and freak as he had with so many other things, but that hadn’t saved him. Now Victor had been thrust into a whole new ball game for dominance, and he was still struggling to make headway in a situation that had been perfectly fine for over a hundred years. He had no doubt his submission had added to LeBeau’s challenge, although the kid was going to have a nasty shock if he continued to push him. Perhaps he could do as he always planned; Wade liked gifts, and a gift wrapped Cajun ready for bondage sessions would probably go down well.
He thought about that. A gift wrapped, chocolate covered Cajun. Wade had a bit of a sweet tooth that wasn’t going away. And then, Victor thought in a burst of rare pleasure, he could simply lounge against the wall and watch the kid get the shit beaten out of him without even getting any of the blame. Life would be good.
There was a movement by the door which informed him that life was preparing to be a bastard again. Jimmy. Victor scowled and continued to study the sky with growing intensity, although he knew his brother wouldn’t take the hint. He never did.
“Victor,” the gruff voice was unusually soft. Another hint of how the kid had ruined him. Victor scowled even harder. Wade’s circumstances had taken up much of his attention, which was just as well. Losing his brother again, this time to some pup of a street rat, wasn’t going to happen. However, there was no point in rushing things. If Logan didn’t grow bored of him, then a fool and his pup were soon parted, and Victor was more than happy to do that for him. He just had to bide his time and do it in such a manner that LeBeau took the full blame for what happened.
In the meantime, he had to avoid the ‘heart to heart’ that Logan seemed determined to inflict on them. This had to be Silverfox’s influence. Women had a lot to answer for.
“Won’t you be missed?” Victor asked in reply, not bothering to look back at him. “And have you seen my rat?”
“The rat’s in the hanger. It’s eating a stale chip.”
“Good. Go away,”
Jimmy remained stubbornly behind him. Victor growled softly to himself, then turned to face him. The smell of recent sex was far too powerful, although he was pleased to note that it seemed uncontaminated by LeBeau. Even so, Logan was still there and still being ‘concerned’. Perhaps weakness was a contagious disease, eating through someone until they ended up talking in a soft voice and donating all their time to charity.
“You okay?” Logan said gruffly when neither man did anything more than glare at each other. Victor snorted softly.
“Please. Since when did we check we were okay? Would you like to swap cake recipes as well?” he pushed past him toward the hanger, but Logan’s hand on his shoulder stopped him, pulling him to a halt. His brother still had a distinct lack of patience, which at least was something.
“I know you don’t like Remy-,”
“Hoorah for you.”
“-and I’m sorry-,”
“Sorry? Sorry?” Victor repeated incredulously, then turned on him. “Listen, little brother, if you take the dominant position then you’ll need to start taking responsibility for it. And one of the first rules is that you don’t apologise, and never explain,”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Victor smiled at him. “Oh, you’ll find out. Trust me on that,”
He could feel his brother’s eyes on his back as he walked back into the hanger to get ready to leave. He’d protected his brother for long enough. It was time for Jimmy to earn what Stryker had inadvertently given him, and in the process Victor might then discover exactly what position had been left for him.
God, he hated change.
There was a scientist in the corridor screaming at them when they finally returned to the island. That was almost certainly a bad sign. Logan picked up the pace, and began to run as he detected the scent of blood on the air. Blood. Screaming. Chaos. It sounded like Victor’s usual calling card, but Victor was right beside him looking as confused as he did, and, to be fair, not everything bad in the world resulted from his brother.
“Guess we should have been earlier,” Victor muttered into Logan’s ear as they cleared the distance between them and the scientist. The truth was that they were bang on time, even five minutes early if they were being generous. Victor hadn’t said any more about what was bothering him since their little chat, but Logan was used to that; his brother had a more practical air to problems rather than talking about them, although that normally resulted in mess.
Logan glanced to his other side where Remy was trotting, a look of concentration fixed on the youngster’s face as he moved. He’d seen the kid fight, but they were coming up against someone who wasn’t going to be impressed by sticks or exploding items. At best, it would be merely distracting before the blades sank into flesh which couldn’t regenerate.
“Remy, you stay outside,” Logan instructed. “You’re too vulnerable,”
He could feel Gambit’s displeasure, but he didn’t really care. Victor had been right, in a way. If he was planning to take a dominant role then he took responsibility for the men under his command, and part of that was making sure they stayed upright and unbloodied. LeBeau’s mortality was a clear easy target; thankfully, this apparently had also occurred to Remy, who tilted his head forward in grudging agreement.
This proved to be just as well. The words began as soon as they got within earshot of the distressed scientist, so many damned words, mostly said in near hysterical tones which made most of them unintelligible. Unsurprisingly, Victor had a solution; stepping closer, he grabbed the man by the throat and thrust him against the wall, where he proceeded to throttle him until the scientist realised the best thing was to save his breath.
“Okay,” Victor said politely, dropping the man back onto the ground. “Start again.”
The man stared upwards, panting softly and rubbing his throat as he did so.
“Deadpool,” he croaked. “Gone,”
Logan frowned and stepped forward, holding out his hand to stop Victor from immediately moving back to strangle the rest of the information out of him.
“What d’you mean, he’s gone? Someone’s taken him?” he asked carefully, speaking slowly to allow the near panic stricken man the ability to understand him. The scientist shook his head and looked beseechingly at him as though Logan might be psychic. Logan scowled internally. He had struggled to understand what the hell was going on when the ‘experts’ answered his questions, let alone having to guess.
Victor growled in frustration, clearly thinking the same thing.
“That’s it. I’m going in,” he snapped. Gambit sighed pointedly before crouching down by the scientist, who was watching him with big, wide eyes. Logan could see LeBeau’s appeal; the kid looked like a normal, jeans and t-shirt and a friendly smile which suggested the only thing he was about to do was deliver the newspaper and wish someone a good morning.
“It’s okay,” Remy soothed softly with a voice that was made to discuss cupcakes. “Just focus on getting your breath back. You’ll be fine. Breathe in…breathe out.. that’s it, you’re doing great,”
Logan frowned and shifted positions, watching the exchange carefully. The white coat had almost completely forgotten about the two ferals as he stared at Gambit as though he was his last possible lifeline. Gradually the intense scent of fear began to lessen as Remy smiled at him with a sweet, warm-hearted smile that spoke of summer days and cool lemonade. Logan smiled ruefully, and glanced at Victor, who had rolled his eyes in irritation.
“So… can you tell me what’s happened?” Remy asked softly. “Don’t worry about Victor. He’s just grumpy in the mornings,”
Victor growled softly, clearly wanting to kick any part of Remy’s body he could reach but forcing himself to resist the temptation. The elder feral folded his arms across his chest and glared at the scientist in the same way a dog would to a cat who had just dared to stroll across its back yard and piss in its water bowl. The scientist glanced fearfully from Victor back to the comforting warmth of Remy, and licked his lips.
“Wilson. He’s gone crazy,”
“Gone crazy?” Logan replied in disbelief.
The scientist slowly nodded, his gaze darting around him as though expecting Wade to turn up any minute. Logan sighed. So much for a simple operation.
“So what happened?” he asked tiredly. Wade relatively sane was normally a headache. Wade insane only promised to be trouble. The man looked around him again cautiously, then leaned forward.
“They did both his mouth and the removal of the control tab yesterday, and all indicators suggest that it was a success,” the scientist whispered. “We were waiting for his mind to adapt to its loss before trying to remove any other talent. But when he finally gained control, he just…,”
The scientist trailed into a series of little hiccupping mumbles, his eyes wide and one hand waving around in what Logan assumed was a descriptive manner. He sighed softly, suspecting that Wade had tried something else other than a cup of tea and a biscuit. The man wasn’t a mercenary because he looked good in the outfit, after all, and the scent of blood was so strong that someone was leaking.
“Where is he now?” Victor asked impatiently. “I’ll get him,”
Remy snorted softly, looking back at Victor in disgust. “No, you won’t. You’ll just make things worse.”
Victor aimed an evil look at Gambit that suggested he was simply deciding where to insert the claws.
“He’ll listen to me,” he growled.
“Can’t you see what’s happened?” Gambit replied in frustration, ignoring Logan’s glare to shut him up. “They did that damned healing factor right at the start so he could survive the injuries that you inflicted. That ruins the anaesthetic, doesn’t it? So he’s been awake for every single thing they’ve done to him, unable to fight back. Wouldn’t you go nuts with the same thing?”
“Oh, great. Your boy toy’s gone all therapist on us,” Victor muttered at Logan. “If he starts talking about leather couches, I reserve the right to hit him,”
LeBeau ignored him and turned back to the scientist, making another soothing noise and patting him on the arm. Logan eyed him curiously; he hadn’t given too much thought over which files Remy had been reading last night, but the lack of surprise over the situation suggested that Wade’s file had been given more than a cursory glance.
Either way, it didn’t matter. Their main priority was recapturing the elusive Wade, although he had no idea what they were going to do with him once they’d done that. He had been hard enough to keep to one room during Team X, and Logan had a suspicion a big pile of pornography magazines weren’t going to be successful this time.
“Is that true about the operations?” he asked the scientist gruffly. A little too gruffly. The white coat looked at him with eyes that would make Bambi jealous, and pressed a little further against the wall.
“I … well… ,” he stammered, the world’s first talking wallpaper.
“Great,” Logan sighed softly, and looked back at the door. He could appreciate Wade’s need to kill off the scientists who had experimented on him, but there was no guarantee on how Wade would carry out his personal revenge. Knowing Wade, it could be anything from personal sword attack to amazing exploding sex toys. All in all, they were going to have to get involved, and he had no idea what affect that was going to have on Victor. If they did this wrong, they could end up with two violently dangerous men instead of one.
“C’mon.” he growled finally. “Let’s get in that room,”
“About time,” Victor grinned and immediately turned to the doorway, his teeth bared and his claws lengthening.
“He’s not in there.” the scientist managed to stammer out before they had even managed to take a step away. Logan closed his eyes and groaned to himself. Of course not. That would be too easy. He stopped and tried to calm himself down, but the frustration was already building. Too much talking, not enough doing things.
“Then where is he?” he snarled over his shoulder.
“I… I…,” The stuck record was back, and it wasn’t playing a tune that Logan liked.
“Whoa, it’s okay, mon ami,” Remy soothed again, and shot Logan a look that stated his irritation. “If you two could go stand over there then I’ll find out what you need to know. You’re just scaring him now,”
“Tragic,” Victor murmured, who had been studying the door for the best route to destroy it. Logan growled, but accepted the point; he grabbed hold of Victor’s arm and irritably tugged him further along the corridor. Victor looked at him in utter bemusement, then laughed at the implication.
“You’re worried about scaring him? God, you are getting soft!” he snorted.
“Is that what you thought last night?” Logan growled back. Now was not the time to start pissing him off - there were far too many people who wanted to do that for him as it was. Victor’s grin abruptly vanished, a harder look entering his eyes and a stubborn sulky line to his mouth. He growled under his breath, and raked his claws down the nearest wall impatiently. LeBeau eyed them suspiciously from down the corridor, just in case they were planning something unsuitable, then turned back to the scientist. Victor’s expression turned even stonier as time crept by, the feral clearly desperate to get going.
“This is a waste of time,” he growled softly into Logan’s ear. “And since when did card boy start making the orders, anyway? Don’t let him forget his position in this.”
“He’s good with people,” Logan scanned the corridor behind them and ignoring the last sentence. Victor snorted.
“Yeah. Conning them. That kid-,”
“-that kid can hear you.” Remy replied calmly as he walked back to them. “So I’d appreciate you bitching about me when I’ve gone for a piss, okay?” Feline eyes slid to Logan, completely dismissing Victor once again. “He doesn’t know where Wade’s gone. He’s still got the teleport, so he could be anywhere. Trouble is… okay, the additional trouble… is that he doesn’t appear to have full control over it anyway. Teleport was something that was connected to the control chip rather than any intention of Wade himself looking after it. He’s had no practise and he’s scared.”
“Wade doesn’t do scared. He does loud.” Logan replied automatically, although his heart had already plummeted solidly to his boots again. Teleport and no doubt lasers and swords as well, all rolled up in a crazy package. If they managed to get Wade pinned down without the whole of the island exploding then they were doing well. LeBeau gave a snort.
“Of course he gets scared, he just has a defensive mechanism in place. He’s not a machine. C’mon, think about it.” Remy looked between them. “You two have had this healing ability for all of your life. You’ve had injuries, you’ve accepted the pain and worked through it. Wade’s a guy who spent all of his life training and perfecting his abilities so he didn’t get shot, and he didn’t get stabbed, and suddenly he’s getting operations performed on him without painkillers?” Gambit shrugged. “I’d be scared, mon ami. Especially when they added the gag to stop him screaming. Apparently the needle through the eyeball was particularly distressing,”
Victor started to study the corridor in unnatural silence. Gambit watched him, then shrugged and studied Logan.
“He’s going to strike out at anything that looks faintly official.” he said softly. “Let me go after him. I’ve never been part of this place. I won’t be a threat to him. I don’t look like a scientist, or even someone they’d trust to make the coffee.”
“That’s true,” Victor growled softly. Remy ignored him, his attention fixed on Logan.
“C’mon. You two go talk to whoever the surgery guy was yesterday, and I’ll go find Wade. Okay?” Gambit looked at him, his voice soft and appealing. Logan shook his head stubbornly.
“Wade’s too strong for you. You’ll go down within seconds.”
“I’m flattered,” Remy said dryly.
“You’ll be flattened.” Victor remarked, then paused and grinned. “Actually, that sounds like a plan with no drawbacks. Go for it.”
Logan glared at his unrepentant brother before looking back at Remy who had a particularly stubborn look of his own. Gambit sighed and folded his arms, tapping a foot.
“Look, I’m not some innocent, weak kid. I can get myself out of trouble,” LeBeau replied pointedly. Victor snorted.
“Yeah. Like you managed to get away when I came to drag you, kicking and screaming, off to the cell,” he raised an eyebrow. Remy rolled his eyes and folded his arms tighter.
“I thought you were keen for me to do dis,” he hissed sideways. Victor paused.
“Good point. I retract my statement.” he stretched, and sniffed the air. He nodded and grabbed hold of Logan’s arm, tugging him to the right. “The doc’s over here. There’s a lot of blood though, so let’s go before we find out he’s bled to death without leaving us a memo. Some people are bastard inconsiderate,”
Logan couldn’t glare at both of them at the same time, so simply looked from one to the other with an expression that spoke of very rude words. He growled in frustration, only too aware that LeBeau would end up doing what he wanted anyway. Remy might have innocent, beseeching eyes, but his obedient servant routine was a pure act. Victor grinned and gave a gentle kick to Remy’s shin.
“He’s swaying. Beat it, puppy. Go find Wade, and be nice.”
“You’re telling me to be nice?!” Gambit snorted, although he began to head off. “No wonder the only way you get laid is when your partner’s unconscious.”
Victor’s smile slightly widened, and he slapped his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Nice kid you have there. You just want to tie him up, slap him around and then slit his throat. Romantically, of course.” he began to head toward the door he had already indicated. “Right. Let’s go find us a clipboard wielder.”
Logan shook his head slowly, and grudgingly began to follow. It was like trying to herd a group of suicidal ferrets who had been overloaded on sugar. He knew that fighting against it would simply lead to his own loss of mind, but that didn’t make it easier.
Victor stopped at the door and sniffed; he glanced back at Logan and winked, before calmly booting the door down.
“Ding dong, Avon calling-,” Victor stopped dead, which was never a good sign. Logan stepped into the room and stared at the three men who were in various states of slouched, bloodstained and clearly on edge.
“Fuck,” he muttered, and crossed the floor to crouch in front of Dr Jones, who at least was still breathing. One arm was almost padded by the amount of bandages wrapped around it, bloodstains and a ripped coat clearly showing that Wade’s blade had made its own personal introduction. Logan looked around the other men, then back at the doctor who was watching him carefully.
“Well,” Dr Jones said after a pause. “You took your sodding time to turn up, didn’t you?”
“What happened?” Logan was a little relieved that the man could still talk, although he didn’t like the whiteness to the doctor’s skin. The man snorted.
“The pizza boy took a bigger tip than we’d planned,” he said dryly, then winced as he moved his arm. “Wilson recovered well from the surgery to remove the control tip, and his mouth was also a success apart from a few scars that don’t appear to be healing as I’d expect. As soon as he was able to make his own decisions, however, he apparently chose the pointer route. We caught him with a sedative which seems to slow him down a little, but he teleported before we could stop him.”
“Sedatives won’t last for long,” Victor growled. “His system’ll flush that pretty soon. Better hope that LeBeau finds him before he gets fully energised.”
Dr Jones raised his head at that, focusing on Victor then looking at Logan in a manner that Logan recognised as the classic ‘did he just say..’ movement. Logan narrowed his eyes.
“What?” he asked slowly. The doctor coughed, then shook his head.
“If you mean you’ve sent Remy LeBeau after him, then I sincerely hope they don’t meet.” Tired eyes raised themselves to Logan’s. “The control chip removal was a success, but he’ll have some remnants of it for a few days. His mind has to readjust.”
Logan studied him, not quite understanding. “So you’re saying…?”
Jones rolled his eyes, which appeared to be one of the few things that would work without issue.
“I’m saying,” he said, as patiently as he could. “that there’s going to be a few ‘official’ orders that he’ll do automatically if faced with the situation. And if I remember correctly, the last official note I read concerning Mr LeBeau was not one that concerned a sweet pat on the head. He’s an escaped prisoner, and therefore-,”
“-ah, shit,” Logan stood up again quickly, and looked at Victor who was still lounging unconcerned against a table. Victor raised an eyebrow.
“Can I assume that Plan A has moved on to Plan B?” he asked with a smile. “And don’t worry yourself. You can tell they haven’t come into contact with each other yet, the floor hasn’t vibrated.”
“You’re not helping, Victor,” Logan growled, then looked back at the doctor. “We’ll go find them. You stay here so we know where you are. What else needs to be done?”
“Lasers. Swords. Teleportation still needs to be done but we can only hamper it, we can’t completely remove it,” Jones replied bluntly. “Get us Wilson and we’ll be able to do the lasers and remove the swords from his arms, but the pair of you will need to keep him subdued. We just can’t keep him on the bed anymore, and the surgery will require both arms to be sliced open near the elbow. He is also squeamish about things going into his eyes.”
“Funny, that,” Victor muttered, pushing himself from the table and stalking to the door. “C’mon, Jimmy. We’ve got a Wade to catch.”
“Wait,” Jones eased himself up with a little groan, and walked across to one of the tables. There was the sound of rummaging that always seemed to appear with scientists at some point or other, then a little noise of satisfaction. Logan eyed the needle in the other man’s hand dubiously, watching as the doctor took hold of a small bottle of liquid and began to fill it up.
“What’s that supposed to do?” he asked suspiciously.
“Stop him.” Jones said bluntly, tapping the syringe with his finger to release any air bubbles. Victor snorted.
“That’s not gonna do anything,”
“Much as I love listening to the ramblings of someone who probably can’t even spell his own name, I’ll go with my research.” Jones eyed him, then handed the syringe to Logan who took it gingerly. He looked at the lime-green liquid, then back up at the doctor.
“I’m injecting him with swamp water?”
“Hilarious. No. And no, it’s not a sedative. Your main problem will be his ability to teleport, even if you defeat him in battle.” Jones gave a nod to the syringe. “That is designed to disrupt the brain’s ability to control the teleportation device. Both his mind and the talent will remain undamaged, therefore the healing ability will not come into play whilst the formula is still in effect, but the commands will simply not get through to the talent. It has a very short lifespan so you will need to take him down soon after injecting it. I would recommend thigh or buttock if you get a choice.”
“We’re capturing him, not serving him as Sunday lunch,” Victor grumbled.
“That’s a shame, I had a wonderful suggestion on where to put the stuffing.” The doctor eyed him steadily, then turned back to Logan. “Get him back here. We’ll do a more permanent disruption, and remove the lasers. I have a suitable cage where you can leave him for tonight until we can remove his swords.”
Victor’s head snapped up. “Cage?”
“He’s too dangerous to be released at this time. And no, I’m not in the mood to be politically correct.” Jones studied him carefully. “I’ll get the table set up for the operation. Just get him back here before he does any more damage,”
Logan nodded in agreement, walking to the door and taking hold of Victor’s arm before the feral decided to rip the doctor a new asshole. He could feel his brother vibrate with anger but Victor was using a bit of rarely used self restraint. They could decide on the cage when they actually caught up with the man in question; the chance to put him in there would be a fine thing.
He sniffed as they stalked into the corridor and let the door close behind them. He could faintly smell Wade’s scent, but the blood was masking out much of it and the teleportation would cause trails to simply pop out of existence. However, he had no doubt they would find him in the end. What state they’d find Remy, on the other hand, was another matter.
Logan cursed to himself as he started to move. He knew he shouldn’t have let the kid go.
ONWARDS TO PART B
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