The Shattering of My Soul
 
 
 

Remy opened the door to the bedroom slowly. His thoughts were racing, and yet, his mind felt numb.

As the light from the corridor entered the dimly lit room, Ororo looked up from where she sat beside the bed. She offered him a sympathetic smile as she closed the book on her lap and set it on the nightstand.

Remy acknowledged her somberly with a single nod, his anguish and fear etched deeply on his handsome features.

He seemed to be frozen in place, as he stood in the doorway, supporting himself with one hand on the doorknob and the other clutching the edge of the door.

Staring at the still form on the bed, Remy’s heart pounded and, although his breathing had quickened in response to having raced up the stairs and down the corridor, he felt as though he was suffocating.

The very thought of losing the one person in his entire life who had never judged him for his past, or for his mistakes - and loved him above all other things even in spite of it – was almost too much for him to comprehend.

The one person who cared for him like no other ever had, who protected him like no other ever would, and who held him more gently and touched him more tenderly than any other he had ever known.

The very thought of such a loss sucked the air from his lungs even as he tried to breathe, and made his head swim.

Ororo stood up and, glancing over her shoulder at the man asleep on the bed, she walked to the door where Remy stood.

She knew the others would’ve made sure to debrief him, on his return from New Orleans, before allowing him to come upstairs.

Hank would be sure that Remy understood the situation clearly before letting him come face to face with it.

As Ororo walked toward him she could see the worry set into his features, the fear in his eyes, and the guilt that bound it all together.

She wanted to scold him for his feelings of guilt.

Remy had a habit of blaming himself for everything bad that ever happened…not only with the X-Men but with the world in general.

And, right now, she knew that he was feeling guilty for not being home when the others were sent on this mission. He blamed himself for not being here when the team needed him.

He felt guilty that the mission had gone bad and he wasn’t there to help.

And, she knew for certain, that he was blaming himself for not being there for the man he loved - when the Friends of Humanity nearly succeeded in taking his life.

Remy finally pulled his gaze away from the still form on the bed and looked at Ororo, who stood beside him patiently, waiting for him to take it all in.

He looked drained, frightened… numb.

She wrapped her arms lightly about his shoulders, giving him a supportive hug.

“How are you, little brother?” she whispered in his ear.

Remy didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. So instead, he leaned his head against hers, accepting her support.

Ororo tightened her embrace, assuring him that she would be here for him if he needed her.

“How…” He tried, his raspy voice hitching with the grief he was trying to hold back. He cleared his throat and tried again. “How is he?”

Ororo relaxed her embrace and looked back at Logan lying peacefully on the bed.

“Well, he appears to be asleep.” She said quietly.

“Asleep?” Remy asked.

Logan normally roused from slumber whenever anyone even came close to his bedroom door. The fact that Gambit was able to enter the room, and have a conversation with Ororo, without him even stirring told Remy that it was more likely that his lover was unconscious.

In response to his question Ororo shrugged sadly.

“It’s hard to say.” She told him. “He may be awake, just unwilling to respond…or unable to. Henry says he’s in shock,” she explained, “that his mind is having difficulty making any sense of… what has happened.”

“Because dere is no sense to it.” Remy whispered.

He thought about what Dr. McCoy had told him about the mission. About the family they had gone to rescue from the clutches of the FoH…a family of five. The mother and two of their youngest children were mutants, and were scheduled for ‘extermination’.
 
 
 
 

<><><><><><><><><><><><>  Earlier that evening  <><><><><><><><><><><><>
 

Scott and Jean found both parents and the eldest son, and got them safely aboard the Blackbird, which was waiting on the roof of FoH Headquarters.

They returned to the building to give Bobby and Warren cover support, as they raced to the rooftop with the second eldest son. The boy was barely clinging to life and Warren had been shot through his left wing, leaving a gaping hole in the pristine feathers.

Bobby carried the boy nearly dragging Warren along with him. They could hear shouting and gunfire coming from the stairwell they had just exited. Then they ran into Scott and Jean in the corridor of the top floor.

Scott grabbed his teammates and, along with Jean, ushered them quickly toward the exit leading to the roof.

That’s when Scott realized one of the team was missing.

Looking back toward the stairwell all he could see was thick black smoke billowing through the doorway as the door shut slowly behind them.

“Where’s Wolverine?” he shouted over the noise.

“He’s somewhere below us.” Bobby yelled back. “He got a scent of the girl. He’s gone after her.”

Scott moved to go after his missing team member, but Bobby grabbed his arm.

“You can’t get down there. The floors below us are on fire. We barely made it back up.” He told his leader.
 
 
 

****     *****     *****     *****     *****        *****     *****     *****     *****     ****
 
 

Downstairs in the Professor’s den, Scott explained to Remy how the only course of action they could take, at that point, was to get everyone aboard the jet, take off and circle the building and hope that Wolverine would find a way out through the ground floor.

Hank continued, telling Remy about the four-year-old girl that Logan had gone to save.

How the team watched, from the cockpit, the heavy smoke billowing from every floor and the flames shooting from the windows, jumping to the floors above.

And, how an explosion inside FoH headquarters had sent Wolverine out the third floor window, clutching the child in his arms.
 

<><><><><><><><><><>       5 hours, 23 minutes ago       <><><><><><><><><><>
 

They splashed down in the large in-ground pool in the former hotel’s courtyard, saving them both from serious injury from impact with solid ground.

But the blast from the explosion, which catapulted him out the window, left Wolverine disoriented, and before he was able to get his wits about him, or his feet under him,  he was set upon by  FoH troops that fled the building when the fires began raging out of control.

Dozens of troops quickly stormed into the pool.

Half a dozen hands were trying to pull the child from Wolverine’s grasp, but he refused to let them have her.

Then Logan realized that he’d hit the water only seconds after the blast had already hit him too hard, forcing the air from his lungs.

He’d barely been able to gulp half a breath before he was submerged.

Landing hard in the shallow end, his back slammed into the bottom of the pool causing him to lose the little air his lungs had recovered during his fall.

And now he wasn’t being allowed to surface as dozens of hands dragged him toward the deep end of the pool.

He tried to kick at them until his legs were finally restrained.

Dazed and in pain, Wolverine opened his eyes trying to get his bearings. His vision was blurred and his chest hurt.

The sharp pain in his ears and the muffled shouts from the surface, which were more distorted than they should be, told Wolverine that his sensitive ears were damaged by the concussion blast. And the blood in the water, swirling thick around his head, confirmed that his eardrums were ruptured.

Logan watched from beneath the surface as the signs, which indicated the depth of the water, dragged by.

Four feet… six feet… eight feet… then back again.

Back again?

~Of course.~

They planned to drag him to the ten-foot depth and drown him there, but someone realized that they could keep him in the deeper end while they stood just before the drop off.

Hands were still grappling for the child who was now drowning in Logan’s arms.

Logan realized he couldn’t fight them off while holding onto the girl - and she would definitely drown if he diidn’t let go – so…. hoping that someone would pull the child to safety he relinquished his hold.

He just let go.

The girl was immediately removed from his arms and Logan felt a sense of relief. Now all he had to worry about was his own safety.

As he prepared to fight back something plunged into the water not too far away from him and Logan turned his head to see what it was.

Terror mixed with rage when he saw that it was the little girl. Like him, she was being held beneath the surface, less than six feet away.

Logan reached for her but he couldn’t move under the weight of his assailants.

He looked up through the water, now churned red with his own blood. The air bubbles escaping his burning lungs raced for the surface, toward the distorted smiling faces above him.

An image flashed in his head, of another time, of another place…many years ago, in a lab.

Pinned inside a liquid filled tank, bubbles churning the blood red fluid that suspended him, weightless, helpless and in pain. The distorted faces, the cruel hands, the voices, and the laughter. They cheered for his pain.

The beast within him stirred, and Logan let himself go. As easily as he’d released the child from his hold, he let the animal free.

And now that the child was no longer hindering his fight, his foot long metal-laced claws shot forth from his knuckles.

The two troopers who were restraining his wrists released a gurgling sound from their throats and disappeared beneath the water.

Seconds later, two more went down.

The members of the FoH watched, in stunned fear, as the water around them seemed to gravitate and turn thick with the blood of their comrades.

Two by two they fell. Some screaming, others with their screams caught in their throats.

Then the water suddenly exploded, spewing forth a beast that must’ve come straight from the bowels of the earth itself.

Three large shiny blades jutted from its fisted hands.

It had a mouth full of sharp teeth, bracketed in the front by huge one-inch fangs on top and bottom.

Its eyes were wild – bright red and half-crazed.

No. Those eyes were completely crazed.

The troopers fled - some shouting, some screaming, and many falling victims to the frenzied beast.

Removing his claws from the ribcage of his last victim and letting the body slip beneath the surface, Wolverine watched the fleeing backs of his attackers for only a brief moment before turning to the ones still holding the child under the water.

They’d frozen in place as they watched the horror unfolding around them.

Now realizing the beast was focused on them, they released their hold on the girl and turned to flee.

The child’s lifeless body floated to the surface and the beast – that was Wolverine – blinked at the tiny, motionless girl… then moved into action.

He grabbed the child’s body in one clawed hand and lifted her gently out of the water, placing her on the cement patio that framed the edge of the pool.

The two troopers, hindered by the deeper water, moved as fast as they could toward the side of the pool.

In their panic, they stumbled over each other as they tried to run for their lives. But they’d find that standing in the deeper water was going to make it impossible for them to get the leverage they’d need to pull themselves out of the pool.

The beast was smarter though.

Wolverine made his way into shallower water… to wait for them.

They would wear themselves down before they’d realize their error. Not that he needed them to sap their strength in order to take them down, but he took that time to savor the smell of their fear.

As he waited for his victims to come to him Wolverine turned to the child lying nearby.

He touched his thumb tenderly to the ashen face and the tiny blue lips. Then he took a deep breath, in preparation, setting his jaw hard and letting the rage burn inside him.

Turning toward the terrified men Wolverine peeled his lips back in a dramatic show of teeth and fangs and roared.

The troopers grappled for the pool’s edge, their panic escalating as they began to scramble toward the shallower water in hopes of escaping the confines of the pool before the enraged creature set upon them.

Although Wolverine was much shorter and stockier than his prey, his powerful muscles propelled him through the waist high water with very little hindrance.

His speed and strength coupled with his berserker, blood thirsty fury and in the blink of an eye - and a flurry of claws and teeth - Wolverine dispatched both men, even as his own team tried to reach him through the crowd of retreating FoH members.

<>

Hindered tremendously, Jean, Scott, Storm and Hank pushed their way through the oncoming stampede of terrified humans.

By the time they reached the pool’s edge Wolverine had eviscerated the two men –letting their guts spill out into the water - plus another trooper who’d come to assist them, and he’d decapitated a fourth.

The water now looked like a bloody stew of human entrails and body parts.

<>

The four X-Men checked up quickly, coming to a skidding halt on the cement patio.

Storm and Hank gasped, and stared in shocked horror, at the bloody evidence of Wolverine’s innate killer instincts.

Jean covered her mouth and quickly turned her back on the grisly scene, and Scott had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat.

They all scanned the scene, unconsciously crinkling their noses in disgust, looking for signs of any survivors.

“My god.” Scott whispered, barely able to find his voice… or even believe an X-Man had caused this bloody chaos.

“God had nothing to do with this.” Jean replied through silent tears streaming down her face. She sounded angry as she tried to control her sobs.
“No, he didn’t.” Storm added angrily. “Where was your ‘God’ any time Logan ever needed him?!” She asked in his defense.

“Ororo…” Hank started to say.

“No, Henry!” Storm’s anger stopped him cold. “Your so-called god has always forsaken him! Always!”

The rest of the team stared at her, surprised at her anger.

“The Bright Lady, the Goddess of the Earth… our mother… has seen fit to look after her son! She has seen fit to give him the skills and strength to survive! And he does so with her blessing!”

Storm’s eyes began to cloud over white as her anger grew toward her teammates. Hank stepped forward to calm her down.

“We are not condemning him, Ororo.” He soothed. But she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Best not!” she answered, almost as a challenge.

Hank met her gaze evenly, then placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Ororo realized she had no need to defend Logan’s actions. She took a deep breath to calm her anger and dropped her gaze, feeling a little ashamed.

Hank gave her shoulder a little squeeze and she looked up at him gratefully.

Then she realized they still had a tough job ahead of them - to find Wolverine, and bring him in.

She turned to scan the area.

“Where is he?” she asked. Then movement to her left caught her attention. “There!”

<>

Wolverine was wading through the shallow end of the pool toward the opposite side.

The claws of his right hand skimmed the surface of the water as he let his arm dangle to his side. And, although their view was limited looking at his back, it appeared as though he was carrying something in his left. His arm was curled up across his chest, but he appeared to be cradling something.

“He has the child.” Hank realized with concern.                                                    TBC