“Let’s go, people.” Cyclops instructed, and they quickly made their way around to the other side of the pool.

Wolverine heard the footfalls behind him. He glanced back once, then ducked between the building and the hedges that grew up beside it.

“Logan!” Storm shouted, hoping to get his attention as she picked up her pace.

Hank grabbed her arm to keep her from racing into an unknown situation.

“Easy, Storm. Let’s take this slow and easy.”

“He’ll go to ground.” She told them in haste, knowing that when Wolverine is injured, and feral, his first instinct is to find a secluded place to hide and rest, until his wounds healed.

“We know what he’s trying to do.” Scott told her. “But we have to be careful.” He reminded her as he brought the team to a halt at the corner of the building, near the row of shrubs.
 
“Hank, go around the back, recon the situation and report back.” Scott ordered.

Hank nodded and disappeared around the front of the hedgerow, heading for the rear of the building.

Scott, Jean and Ororo waited anxiously for him to return. They looked up in surprise as Hank returned less than two minutes later.

“There’s no way out back there.” He reported. “It’s blocked by a brick wall about twenty feet high. And there’s no way he’s going to scale it… not in his condition.” He informed them.

He scanned the side of the building, then looked down through the row of hedges.

“It must be some kind of an alcove built into the side of the building. Might’ve been used to store patio furnishings and pool equipment in the winter months when the hotel was still open for business.” Hank guessed.

“Great, so we got him cornered.” Scott replied, satisfied for the moment.

“Great?” Jean asked, raising her eyebrows at her husband’s comment.
Scott looked at her with a blank expression. Apparently he didn’t understand the situation completely.

Ororo understood though.

“Let me go.” Storm volunteered suddenly.

“What?” Scott asked, confused.

Ororo looked at him, and when he gave her a questioning look she explained.

“We can’t all go in there.” She told him. “He’s feral, Scott.”

“I know that.” he replied.

“And he’s hurt.” She added.

“I know that, Storm.” Cyclops replied impatiently waiting for her to get to the point.

“And now he’s trapped.” She said indicating the dark row of hedges. “And… he thinks he’s protecting that child. Protecting her from… us.” She said pointedly. “And the only thing more dangerous than an animal protecting its young… is a wounded animal that feels trapped.”

Hank nodded in agreement.

“And we have all three.” Jean added.

Scott looked from one to the other, knitting his brow.

“That child is not his.” Scott reminded them.

“That’s beside the point, Scott.” Jean told him. “Even wolves protect each other’s young as if it were their own.”

“Indeed.” Dr. McCoy concurred. “This is a very dangerous situation. If we plan to go in there and get him out…”

“At the very least, get the child away from him.” Jean interjected, and Hank nodded before continuing.

“Then we must be prepared to defend ourselves… and, we must be prepared to bring him down, if needs be.” Hank finished.

“No…” Storm started to say.

“Hank’s right, Ororo.” Scott nodded.

“No. Let me try… please.” Ororo pleaded with her leader.

“I know how you feel, ‘Ro, but you know as well as I do, that Wolverine cannot distinguish friend from foe when he’s like this.” Scott reminded her.

“But, we can’t just…”

“And we won’t just.” Scott assured her. Then he took her gently by the shoulders. “We’re not going to go in there just blasting away, you know that.”

Ororo lowered her eyes and nodded.

“But it may come to that.” Scott added, and Ororo looked up at him, her eyes wide. “We don’t want to hurt him, ‘Ro, you know that.”

Ororo nodded.

“But we’re taking him home with us… tonight.” He told her firmly. “One way or another, he’s coming home with us. Okay? We’re not leaving him here.”

Ororo finally conceded that Scott was right. They couldn’t leave Logan out here, alone and injured… and feral. She nodded and Scott turned to Jean.

“Jean? If it comes to that, can you….?”

Jean shook her head, stopping the question.

“No, Scott, I can’t. Logan’s shields are difficult to penetrate when he’s feral. Even Charles has difficulty locating him with cerebro when he’s not feral. My powers would completely drain before I could drop him with a psi-blast.” She told him. “And it would just end up pissing him off.” She added reluctantly. “If we’re going to take him down it has to be quick and he has to stay down.”

Jean gave Scott a pointed look.

“You’ll have to do it.” She told him.

The three X-Men looked at their leader. And time seemed to stand still as Scott thought about that.

Everyone knew he and Logan didn’t get along very well on a good day. He didn’t want to be in the position to be the one to take him down. What would the others think? Would Remy understand that he had to do it? Would they understand it wasn’t personal?

Scott took a deep breath and nodded. It didn’t matter what the others thought - he would know it wasn’t personal.
 

<>
 

Hank’s assessment of the enclosure was correct.

As Scott and his team reached the end of the hedgerow, squeezing between the building and the shrubs, the area in front of them opened up to a large alcove.

It was strewn with a variety of lawn furnishings - most of them upturned and vandalized over the years since the hotel had closed.

Logan’s musky scent was easily recognizable in the enclosed space, and because he was now soaking wet his natural physical scent was stronger than usual. It actually made Scott think of a wet dog. Then, feeling guilty for the thought, he pushed the analogy aside quickly.

Scott stepped cautiously into the open area to make room for the others to enter the alcove, and his hand automatically went up to his visor setting, to make sure it was set to a lower blast level.

As the others settled in beside him, Scott finished his visual scan of the enclosure and opened his mouth to report 'no movement’, when he was stilled by a sound that chilled his blood.

The low menacing growl made the hair on his arms stand up.

Scott’s heart was pounding and his mouth went dry. He tried to calm his breathing even as sweat broke out on his forehead. He wasn’t sure that he could take down his friend, and if he couldn’t… they would die.

He and Logan had never been real close, but he never thought he’d ever be in a situation like this. He never liked Logan’s ‘kill or be killed’ ideology, always believing there was another way.

And Wolverine had the upper hand here. He didn’t recognize them as friends and, therefor, would have no qualms about rendering them all dead very quickly.

And, where Scott may hesitate, he knew the feral Wolverine would not.

“Calm yourself.” Ororo whispered in his ear. “He can smell your fear.”

Scott took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then Storm stepped around him, making her way slowly toward the center of the alcove hoping to catch sight of Wolverine.

He was hiding amongst the piles of debris and, at the very least, they needed to know from which direction an attack would come from.

Another growl stopped her in her tracks. Ororo slowly turned to her left, scanning the debris.

The alcove was dimly lit by a single light fixture attached to the top corner of the alcove wall, which was actually aimed toward the pool.

Wolverine had ‘dug in’ in the one corner the light didn’t reach. But she could just make out his silhouette against the wall.

“Jean?” Ororo said quietly, getting her attention. “Light?” she requested simply.

Using her telekinesis, Jean was able to rotate the fixture 180 degrees. She couldn’t angle it down without breaking the fixture so, instead, she aimed it at a window just above them. The window reflected the light just enough to lighten the dark corner where their teammate was holed up.

Storm was surprised, when she could finally see, that the silhouette against the back wall was actually a shadow.

Wolverine was actually crouched behind the debris directly in front of her, less than five feet away to her left.

Storm quickly adjusted her focus and when her gaze met his, Wolverine immediately backed away from her until his back came in contact with the brick wall.

If he’d stayed where he was he could’ve been easily surrounded. Now that his opponents’ sight was no longer impeded by the darkness the tables had turned.

As he moved away from the cover of the debris pile Ororo could see him more clearly.

“He has the child.” She informed the others quietly.

Hank came up beside her, careful not to make any quick or overt movements.

Seeing the large Beast standing beside Storm, Wolverine trembled with feral anger, then warned them to keep their distance with a loud growl.

It was then that Storm realized that Wolverine’s uniform had been torn from his body. There was barely enough of it left to protect whatever modesty the man had.
It must’ve been incinerated by the explosion before he was propelled through the third floor window.

The skin on the left side of his body was bright red and looked painfully raw. She imagined his back and shoulders were probably in the same condition. There were no burns on his face, chest or stomach which would mean he’d instinctively turned away from the blast to protect the child, as well as his more vulnerable areas.

While Wolverine’s attention was on Storm and Beast, Jean and Scott moved in opposite directions around the stack of upturned furniture.

When he spotted Cyclops out of the corner of his eye, to his right, he turned his head to snarl at him – flashing his large canines at him.

Scott stopped where he was.

Hank thought it odd, that Logan hadn’t actually growled at Scott, given his close proximity to Wolverine.

Then he realized that Wolverine was barely able to hold his head up high enough to keep them all in view. The arm cradling the child – whom Hank suddenly noticed was extremely quiet considering all she’d just gone through – was starting to relax its hold on the girl, and Logan’s breaths were loud and raspy, as if it took a great deal of energy just to breathe.

“He’s exhausted.” Hank informed the others.

“Can we wait him out?” Scott asked hoping Wolverine would pass out on his own.

“I don’t know. That healing factor of his…”

“Looks pretty taxed to me.” Jean interrupted.

Wolverine snarled at the sound of their voices and forced out a loud breath, which they figured was supposed to have been a growl but without the strength behind it to make an audible sound.

Storm moved around the center stack of debris and slowly lowered herself to her knees.

Wolverine curled his lip at her.

Staying low, and at his level, Ororo approached him slowly.

Wolverine attempted to move away from her, scuttling the wall, until he remembered Scott was blocking his escape. He looked up and flashed his teeth weakly at Cyclops, hoping to scare him away from his path of egress.
“I don’t think so, pal.” Scott whispered in a gentle tone.

Wolverine tried to keep an eye on Scott but Storm was moving in from the opposite side. The two were too far away from each other, and at odd angles, that Wolverine couldn’t keep them both in his peripheral field of vision. He was forced to alternate, looking at one then the other.

Storm sensed his rising anxiety. He was spent. He was exhausted and in extreme pain. He had nothing left to give and was resigned to the fact that he was about to die. But he’d go down fighting… the best he could.

After everything he’d just survived… how hopeless his animal mind must feel right now.

Ororo tried to lessen his anxiety. Speaking to him softly, she moved toward him slowly.

“Oh, dear goddess…” Storm whispered, saddened by the sight of the still body in Logan’s arms.

The small body was limp, her head flopping against Logan’s chest. Her lips were blue and her face was ashen gray.

“The child… Hank.”

“I know, Ororo.” He replied quietly.

When Scott and Jean looked at him curiously he informed them that the child was most obviously already dead. Husband and wife exchanged sorrowful looks, then returned their attention to their feral teammate.

“Logan?” Storm said, moving closer. “Sweetie? Can I have the baby?”

Ororo knew he wouldn’t understand her words but she hoped her tone would convey that she meant no harm - to him or the child.

Logan stared at her through heavy lids and Ororo gestured toward the child, then herself and curled her arms as if holding a baby.

As she moved toward him she continued to gesture and coo at him sweetly. Logan cocked his head to one side curiously and blinked at her.

The child’s body was flopped loosely in the crook of his arm like a rag doll. Her left arm seemed to be reaching out toward Ororo while her head flopped backward over Logan’s arm – her little neck, hyper-extended and definitely not in a position any healthy child would tolerate.

“I would’ve thought,” Scott began to say quietly. “How could he not know she’s dead? With his senses, you would think…”

“He knows.” Ororo informed him softly, so she wouldn’t startle Wolverine, as she was right up next to him now.

She reached out slowly and Wolverine watched as her fingers gently caressed the child’s outstretched arm.

Then he watched as Ororo gently folded the baby’s arm across her little chest.

He bent down and nuzzled the small arm, and it flopped back out toward Ororo who caught it gently in her hand.

Wolverine nuzzled the baby’s chest, as if trying to stimulate the child to breathe. When nothing happened, he whined.

Ororo reached up and rested her hand on Logan’s head as he grieved for the child he couldn’t save. A single tear rolled down Ororo’s cheek as she spoke to him.

“I’m so sorry, Logan. It’s not your fault, sweetie.” She tried to explain as she stroked his hair tenderly.

“Grab her, ‘Ro.” Scott ordered in a hushed tone.

“No.” She replied, keeping her voice soft.

“He can’t keep dragging her around like that.” Scott said impatiently.

Ororo looked up at him as her anger threatened to flare. She took a deep breath in order to keep her voice level.

“He isn’t ‘dragging her around’.” She informed him. “He couldn’t protect her in life, so he’s vowed to protect her in death.”

She returned her attention to the feral Wolverine and the child in his arms. She caressed them both gently, letting Wolverine know that she understood the bond he shared with the child.

“He will give her up… when he is sure we mean her no more harm.” She informed the others.

A few moments later, Wolverine lifted his head, sniffing at Ororo. He noticed the tear on Storm’s cheek. He reached out and touched it with one finger.

He could smell the salt from her tears and he touched his finger to his tongue, tasting her grief. Then he pressed his fingertip to his own eye and sampled it with his tongue. All he tasted was the chlorinated water dripping from his hair and frowned in disgust.

“They will come to you…” she told him, “when you are ready.”

Logan leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He was exhausted.

Ororo reached for the child so he wouldn’t drop her.

Wolverine’s eyes snapped open and he reflexively tightened his grip.

“It’s all right.” Ororo soothed him. “Let me have her, Logan. Come on… it’s all right.” She said as she gently pulled the child from his arms, and Logan gradually let go.

Storm stood up slowly and began to walk toward Hank.

Logan sprang to his feet and chased after her. He grabbed Storm’s arm and jumped in front of her.

“Mine!” he growled at her, trying to take the child back. His voice was low, hoarse and gravelly. But the fact that he’d spoken at all was proof that his ferality was beginning to recede.

“We’re going to take her home, Logan.” Ororo told him, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around the baby.

“Home?” he asked tilting his head.

“Yes. Come on, we are going home.” She answered, putting a hand on his arm.

Logan followed her out of the alcove, with Scott and the others right behind them.
 

<>
 

As they crossed the patio, no one wanted to look at the carnage that was barely recognizable as human remains. Nor did it occur to them to shield Logan from the sight.

It took a moment for the others to realize he’d stopped as they crossed through the pool area. And when Hank saw him standing in the middle of the gory scene – his eyes wide in shock, his entire body trembling – he realized his mistake.

He knew Logan’s biggest fear was losing control of the beast within him, and he could never remember what happened when the beast was in control.

Now he stood in the middle of his worst nightmare, with the reality of his own lethality staring him in the face.

“Oh my stars… Logan!” Hank shouted to get his attention.

Logan slowly turned away from the scene of his own personal massacre. His eyes were dilated and all the color had drained from his face. He tried to blink… he tried to breathe… instead, he staggered and Hank ran to him.

He caught Logan as he stumbled and his knees buckled. Logan mumbled something he didn’t understand, then Hank had to tighten his grip as his exhausted friend became dead weight in his arms.

He scooped Logan up in his arms and left the area as quickly as possible.
 

<>
 

That’d been 6 hours ago. And Logan hadn’t regained consciousness.

Hank explained to the others that, physically, Logan’s body had since healed completely. But his mental state was severely wounded.

He was having difficulty coming to terms with all that’d happened and his mind was shutting down, shutting it all out.

His conscious mind was closing down, shutting him in, to keep the pain away, to keep out all the hurt… and they couldn’t reach him.
 
 
 

TBC