Thinner Threads than These

When he paused in the clearing, the night air nipped his naked back and raised small goose bumps across his hairy arms. He usually did well with temperature extremes but yeah, he could still freeze to death--he was a mutant, not God. It just took a few hours. He smirked. At least it wasn't too bad tonight, only around fifty degrees.

But he was shivering.

Logan rolled his left shoulder and gently guided the dark-skinned, platinum-haired woman to the ground. She'd been on his shoulders for the past three hours but he'd barely felt it, due to the surge of adrenaline and fear, and the fact that she barely weighed more than a large dog. She hadn't had enough to eat. Neither had he, but at least his healing factor resisted against some of the gnawing in his gut. Enough so he wouldn't starve to death, at least. But 'Ro...Ororo was altogether different. She wouldn't last long. She barely survived now.

His eyes darkened as he crouched beside her. Ororo lay limp, nearly dead, but the steady, drugged rhythms in her lungs told him she'd be okay in a few hours. It didn't make sense. They drugged her almost more than they drugged him, and he was the one with the healing factor, not her. Part of the plan, he thought disgustedly. They'd tested her limits, just like they tested his.

The bruises across her torso and limbs proved it.

He checked her temperature with the back of his hand. She moaned softly from his cool touch. Damn. A fever. "Fight it, 'Ro," he whispered, watching her forehead contort with his words. He smiled slightly. Even out-cold she had that "never surrender" attitude. Absently, he wondered if that wasn't what saved them both in the end.

Logan covered her with dried leaves from their makeshift camp, to help her sweat off the fever. They had to rest now, whether he liked it or not--she'd only get worse if she couldn't sleep it off. He casually sniffed the mountain air, smelling the faint shift in the wind of human sweat, but 'Ro's health was more important. Besides, they weren't that close. They weren't even following all that fast. Perhaps, he thought with a grimace, their escape had been another test.

And how are we today, Logan...?

When a chill crept up his back from the memory, he shook the words from his mind by running through the survival basics. He was hoping to find a mountain stream, but he couldn't hear anything. Not a good sign. Shelter was second, since they were both as naked as the day was long. He smiled a little and cupped his body into Ororo's. Good thing 'Ro wasn't shy. Despite her fever he had to keep her warm, to keep her from losing too much heat, too quickly. Her mutant ability could've kept her temperature down, if Sauren hadn't screwed with them so much. They were lucky to have any DNA left.

Don't worry, Logan. This won't hurt...Much.

His brow furrowed as ugly memories assaulted him. Unlike before, he wasn't a total head-case. No feral regressions, no total amnesia. Unfortunately, he remembered the things Sauren wanted him to remember, which was almost as bad as not having any memory at all. But he didn't want to remember any of it. Not until he was ready to. Not until he could remember and forget at the same time, in peace. He wouldn't let her have the upper hand.

"Sorry, 'Ro," he whispered gently. She tried pulling from him in her sleep and he clung to her tighter. He could only guess what her dreams were like. He gently ran his fingers through the short wisps of hair curling around her neck, and her actions quieted.

Well, we can't have our weather witch killing herself on her first day, can we?

He watched them shave her bald. She stood against them, proudly and stubbornly, in her best goddess persona. They mocked her, saying they didn't want her to use her pretty white hair as a noose. One of the scientists mentioned using her strands for DNA testing. Another wanted to sell her hair to a beautician. They didn't know 'Ro. She wasn't suicidal and she certainly wasn't vain. Through her eyes, he remembered how proudly she stood. Through her eyes, he saw her lips twist in a faint smile, to reassure him. She even got away with a small wink. His 'Ro? Winking? He wasn't sure if the memory was false, but he clung to it. He clung to it the entire time. Even more, when he heard the screams...

He draped a heavy, protective arm around her torso. How much did she remember? Did they play with her mind? Crush her? Rape her? He barely saw her during the ordeal, and she looked like a completely different woman now. Or maybe it was just the image of her that changed. He wasn't even sure how long they'd been there. It could've been a week, or a year. He finally got to the point where caring wasn't an option anymore. He only remembered parts, and he wasn't sure if having partial knowledge was a good or a bad thing. He remembered coming to the lab and waking up. He remembered a few of the doctor's faces. He remembered Dr. Sauren and her team of telepaths. He remembered going in and out of fugue states and finally seeing an opportunity. Seeing a lab coat, seeing a syringe. Seeing 'Ro scream and remembering he had claws, and remembering how to use them. Seeing an open window. Slinging 'Ro over his shoulder. Jumping. Running...Running. Stopping only when the smell of blood and drugs faded from his nostrils. Now his mind pounded at the new mental block in his head, while Dr. Sauren's grandmotherly face wouldn't leave him alone. Half of his nightmares had been about going feral and killing his X-men family. The other nightmares were like this. He wished this were a nightmare. Then he could wake up.

In the-days? weeks? months?-since their capture they let some of her hair grow back. He kind of liked how her pixie cut licked the nape of her neck, but it made her look too vulnerable. He should've been angry, but he only felt numb. They didn't break 'Ro but they broke him, somehow. He would've stayed at the lab indefinitely, would've let them continue on with their experiments, if it hadn't been for her. She was his link to reality, now. His only way of getting himself back. 

"Sorry I dragged you into it, 'Ro," he muttered. Exhausted from guilt, he cupped her even closer to his body and covered her flank, like a wild beast. He failed to protect her. He wouldn't fail her again.

He shivered again and knew it wasn't from the cold. It was from what they did to him...to her.

*     *     *

"Anything?"

Professor Xavier removed Cerebro and slowly shook his head. "Nothing...definite. I feel faint stirrings, but nothing I can place. Not like..."

As his voice trailed, Jean rubbed her arm. "You were going to say death, weren't you?"

Charles said nothing and his silence spoke volumes. "You should sleep, Jean," he said softly. "You've been awake for two days."

"I've still slept more than you," she muttered. She held the back of her hand over her mouth, stifling a yawn. "If anyone here needs sleep, it's you."

"Perhaps," Charles said. Ever since they 'heard' Wolverine's mental scream three days ago, they feverishly worked to track their two missing team members. Wolverine and Storm had been missing for seven weeks, and the cry was the first lead in several weeks of hellish wild chases.  "I get certain images, of mountains and forests. Sometimes...more. But they're alive, Jean. I know they are."

Jean placed her hand on Charles' shoulder. "Don't overtax yourself, Charles. You're doing more than any of us could."

The Professor nodded slightly, and put the mental amplifier back on his head. He didn't want to alarm Jean with the other images he saw. Images of pain. Torture. She didn't understand how badly he wanted to find them.

"Go to sleep, Jean," he said softly. Not knowing what else to do, she patted his shoulder and left him to his work.

No one was sure how the kidnapping happened. He had dispatched Cyclops, Wolverine, and Storm to a small disturbance on the Eastern seaboard due to an irregular typhoon in the Maryland area. Cerebro had detected a mutant signature along with it, so he felt it best to investigate it. The storm was a formidable one, but no one expected much more than a routine mission. They could handle it. Storm would handle the typhoon, and both Wolverine and Cyclops would handle the power behind it. Or so they thought. No one suspected a set-up, and no one expected someone to kidnap Wolverine and Storm. And even after that, they all expected to find their comrades in two days, or less. Surely they would.

Charles plucked Cerebro from his scalp, sighing. "Wolverine...Storm. Hang on. Just hang on a little longer. We're coming. I promise..."

*     *     *

"How are we Logan? Well I trust...? Your friend's done quite well. We're pleased with her progress. She's a fine addition."

Ororo's eyes turn white, her mouth twists in a silent scream. A telepath laughs. Blood...everywhere blood--

He jerked awake when her moans became more insistent. He wasn't sure if it was because they were both nude, but he felt himself strangely attracted to her moan. His throat felt like sandpaper. His cheek twitched as he swallowed back the dryness.

"No...O Blessed Goddess, no..."

"'Ro," he whispered. "C'mon. Snap out of it." He tapped her face lightly and felt guilty. After all the abuse, the gentle slap seemed like another insult. He surprised himself when he caught himself smiling at her frown. He glanced around the hillside grotto guiltily, expecting someone to catch him, and he did a double take. Almost four miles away, under the bright moon, a shadow moved the opposite direction from the wind. His eyes narrowed. They caught up. Ororo's eyes fluttered just as he caught the distant echoes of hounds and the stronger odors from the west.

"Sorry, 'Ro," he said softly. He rose to his feet, and slung her back over his shoulder. "We gotta book."

"Wolverine...?"

His heart melted at her breathless whisper. If not for his superior hearing, he wouldn't have heard her-her voice caught, as if she couldn't believe they'd escaped.

"...can...walk."

"No, you can't. Stop arguing with me, and go back to sleep. It's faster." She seemed to understand and lay her head back on his shoulder. The softness of her hair tickling his shoulder strengthened his steps and his resolve.

"Hear...dogs?"

"Thought I told you to rest," he grumbled. He jumped down a few feet onto a narrow creek bed and hissed when a sharp rock sliced his bare feet. Even as he hobbled across the water the wound had begun to close, but the dogs would catch his scent in no time. Unless they found some kind of hiding place they'd be on them in twenty minutes, if not sooner.

"Logan...do not be an ass...leave me."

Logan chuckled. "Ain't gonna happen, honey. Trust me."

"Stupid...macho--"

"Flattery'll get you everywhere, doll," he muttered. She was right, he could outrun them without her, but they'd come this far. He wasn't about to let her down now. They were too close.

*     *     *

"You find them yet?"

Jean came out of the professor's office, raising a slim eyebrow. If he wasn't her husband, and if she didn't know him so well, she might have backhanded him. "No, Scott. And you're driving us nuts."

"Sorry." The leader of the X-Men stopped pacing a moment and slumped on the bench outside the professor's office. The small frown on Jean's face faltered, and she ruffled her fingers through her husband's short, brown hair.

"It's just that you said--"

"--I said 'maybe,'" she finished, sighing. "I know you feel guilty, but you have to know by now that it wasn't your fault."

"I was the only one there. No one else was around. They knocked me out, and got them. Left me, and took them."

"I know."

Scott had muttered those same words every day for the past month, even in his sleep. He clung to any hope, no matter how small, like a lifeline. Jean wished he didn't take everything on so much, but then it was one of the things she loved about him. His protectiveness outshined Wolverine's. "But I'm glad they didn't. I wouldn't have been able to bear it."

But can they?))

She caught his stray thought and kissed the top of his head. "They're fighters. They'll make it."

"Yeah." Scott fingers trembled beneath his visor as he rubbed his temples. "Virginia?"

"Or the Carolinas, for that matter. Or West Virginia, Kentucky, Missouri, Tennessee, or--"

He stood suddenly. "We need to find them. Now."

Jean help up her hands, exasperated. "*Where*, Scott?"

The first few weeks Ororo and Logan were missing they'd taken the Blackbird out every night and combed the eastern coast, to no avail. They finally decided that they weren't doing any good and came back home to try with Cerebro. But even with the possible lead, they had over 600 miles of hill country to check-and that was only if the image Charles received was on target. "If you can pinpoint the one state out of twenty where they could be, then you must be a bigger telepath than Charles."

He gripped his wife's shoulder with one hand and wordlessly gripped the air with the other. "Sorry, hon. I know I'm acting stupid. I just..." He shrugged. "It's our first lead in two months. I just need to do something, anything. Pointless crap is still something."

She nodded, snuggling closer into his arm. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to check one last time. Where to, oh fearless leader?"

"Let's go on the Professor's first hunch. To Virginia."

*     *     *

"Highway's up ahead."

Ororo shook her head slightly, trying to clear the sedative's grogginess. She was still slumped over Logan's shoulder, but she felt some of her old energy returning. As if in reply, a small army of clouds shifted across the moon.

"That your doin'?"

"We need more cover," she whispered. Her voice still wasn't very strong, but it didn't need to be. "The moon is too full."

Logan shifted her on his shoulder and climbed the small gully to get to the road. "Can't hurt. But if you got the strength, it'd be better if you made rain."

"I am working on it."

"Don't strain yerself. You still ain't at 100%."

"Don't worry about me. Worry about the people following us."

"I'm tryin' my best. Sauren's probably got a mental lock on us. Probably tellin' 'em where to find us."

"I should have killed her when I had the chance."

Logan didn't answer. The telepath messed them both up pretty badly, but he guessed she had some kind of personal vendetta against 'Ro. She wanted to crack Ororo open and see what made her tick. She claimed to have his Weapon X file, so she already knew the right buttons to crack open his mind-nothing new there. 'Ro, though, was a whole 'nother story.  She set up that whole mess in Maryland to draw her in. In the back of his mind, Logan wondered if 'Ro now carried the same mental time bomb he had.

"We got ten minutes, tops, before they catch us."

"I hear cars, Logan. How close?"

"A few miles down the road. But they're going the opposite direction."

"Any places that might have shelter, or clothes?"

Despite his excellent eyesight he squinted slightly. "Maybe somethin' thirty miles away. We're up in the damned mountains, 'Ro. Nothin' fer miles, 'cept maybe gas stations an' truck stops. I ain't seein' any of those either, though."

"We'll improvise, then."

"Like always. You got a plan?"

"Not yet."

A small bubble of fear churned in Logan's gut. The scenario bugged him, which was a given. But he couldn't place a darker feeling. He felt mentally off and couldn't think that clearly. He'd thought the feelings came from the results of the torture, but now he wasn't sure. Something else was wrong, maybe something due to the experiments. Part of his mind had been cut off...or out. And why did he feel so afraid? He'd never felt this afraid before. He felt exposed.

Ororo shifted on his shoulder, snapping him from his mental reverie, and he frowned. Musing was another thing he never did.

"Put me down."

"'Ro, you ain't even close to--"

"I have a plan."

He raised an eyebrow but did as she asked. "If yer thinkin' of hoofin' it, we ain't got a snowball's chance in h--"

"Shut up, Logan. Let me do my job."

A small smile pursed his lips. "Then go ahead, leader lady."

Satisfied, Ororo concentrated. A steady stream of coarse sweat dripped from her brow, and a small rumble echoed over the mountains. "Come on," she snapped. Logan had to smile. She sounded as impatient as he felt. "I am your mistress. Obey me, damn it!"

The swear words would have made him laugh in another situation, but they didn't have time for it. The chirped clip of dog and the unsubtle rustling of men were a few short yards away. If her plan didn't work now, nothing would.

"'Ro--"

"Quiet, Logan." An explosion in the sky cut off her next words. Lightning streaked from the sky, splitting the night in two, and a sudden downpour soaked them instantly. "I need to control this."

"Can you see them?" She asked. He nodded. A group of men wandered from the woods, slipping on the slick mud covering their shoes. Their dogs were making a beeline to their direction. "Now you see them..." her hand constricted and a snake of lightning lit the clearing like fireworks on the 4th. A dark chuckle came from her throat. "And now you don't."

Logan's lips parted. Steam and smoke rose from the suddenly charred, scattered men and dogs, and the smell of cooked flesh stung his nostrils.

"You killed them?"

"Yes." Her jaw worked dangerously and another pang of fear ran through Logan's gut. "My patience came to an end. Now we have clothes."

"Incinerated clothes."

"No, only the men. The clothes are virtually untouched."

Logan swallowed and ransacked whatever he could find from the bodies. Money, ID's--he stripped the men of everything, and felt strangely guilty about it. He ripped off someone's clothes without looking at the man.

 "Shirt and pants," he said, quietly giving them to Ororo.

"Thank you."

He craned his neck to the sky and opened his mouth to catch the drops of hard rain. "What just happened, 'Ro?"

Her body swayed as she rose to slip on a pants leg, and Logan kept her steady. Their short length exasperated her-these pants were better suited for Wolverine, not her. But they hadn't time to be choosy. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Seems to me," he said after a few swallows, "Dr. Sauren did a few trips in our head. Somethin' pretty nasty. We ain't the same."

One of Ororo's arms paused while putting on her shirt. "I know."

"You didn't bat an eye. You just did somethin' I would've done, but I'm the one havin' the second thoughts. You were nicer to Callisto when you stabbed her." The rain pelted his shoulders sharply. He sighed and switched gears. "You remember what the telepath did to us?"

Lightning fried a tree near them. "Sauren? A little. I remember pain, lots of pain. And I have... horrific memories."

"Yeah. Well, welcome to my world."

He hadn't meant to sound bitter, but he felt raped. They did it to him again, and left less of the man he was before. And this time they took 'Ro along for the ride. He sighed. "We'll get Chuck to do a few laps in our heads. Maybe we'll get somethin' back."

"Perhaps." The wind picked up, and sharp shards of hail pelted the ground around them. "But if not, we will have to live with the new changes."

His eyes glittered darkly. "Can you?"

She turned from him and tugged her belt sharply around her hips. "I will need a few hours before I am strong enough to fly us from this area. Until then, we will walk. Can you lead us towards civilization until we find a phone booth?"

"I'll do my best."

"You're the best at what you do."

They shared a small smile as he led her back down the road. They had a few hours before dawn and they should've been exhausted, but neither of them wanted to wait. He smelled her fear, and the strange feelings churning inside her. She'd break without Chuck's help, and so would he. They wouldn't last in this condition.

The rain came down in gentle sheets. Ororo didn't seem in any mood to turn it off, and he didn't care.

*     *     *