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Fanfic: Fever Dreams 18/?

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  • teufelce@aol.com
    Title: Fever Dreams (18/?) Author: Chris (Teufelce@aol.com) Genre: Character study/Action/Romance Pairing:
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 31, 2000
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      Title: Fever Dreams (18/?)
      Author: Chris (Teufelce@...)
      Genre: Character study/Action/Romance
      Pairing: Wolverine/original female character
      Rating: R profanity
      Summary: Atonement...
      Thanks to: "A very good friend... yeah, she knows who she is..." -
      without
      whom I never would've written this. Thanks, Z...
      Disclaimer: The characters of X-Men (i.e. Logan, Professor Xavier, etc.)
      belong
      to Marvel Comics and Twentieth Century Fox Pictures.
      This story is
      for entertainment purposes only and no copyright
      infringement is
      intended.
      Archive: Hell yes, just let me know where!





      Logan was still lying there, staring at the sky, when the red jeep pulled up
      and Scott climbed out. He heard the gravel crunch under the other man's
      boots, and then Scott was kneeling next to him, hands gingerly running over
      his torn and bloodied clothing, trying to ascertain the extent of his
      injuries.

      "Jesus Christ, Logan..." he heard him mutter, as he pulled back the flannel
      shirt to reveal the deep gash in Logan's abdomen that wasn't healing. "Hold
      on a second..." Then Scott's face was gone from his view. The sounds of
      metal scraping on pavement, as Scott muscled the banged up motorcycle into
      the back of the jeep... Gravel crunching again... <He's coming back now...
      Just go away...>

      "Logan, can you hear me?" Pressure against the wound in his stomach...
      "Logan, what happened? This isn't healing... shit..." <Don't want it to...>
      "I'm going to move you now, Logan - I have to get you back to the mansion so
      Jean can stitch this up..." He felt the other man's hands lifting his arm
      around his shoulders, and then he was being pulled upright. Pain ripped
      through him and he closed his eyes against it. The numbness inside
      surrounded it and pulled it away. Far away like everything else... His legs
      wobbled and refused to hold his weight... <Just go away...> "Christ, Logan,
      help me here... you weigh more than the damn bike..." He could feel his legs
      beginning to move mechanically, step after step, against his will. He didn't
      have the strength to fight it. He didn't have the strength to fight
      anything. He just wanted to close his eyes again and make it all go away...
      <Because of me...> Pain started to well up inside him again, and he wrapped
      the blackness around him like a blanket, sinking into it until Scott's voice
      sounded like it came from miles away. Felt the younger man yank the
      passenger door of the jeep open and then felt himself being lifted into the
      seat, Scott groaning under the weight of the metal inside him. Felt the
      breeze of the door being slammed shut, and simply lay with his head on the
      headrest, eyes staring out the window. Heard the engine start up, tires
      squealing, and then landscape was whipping past at high speed. Pulled the
      darkness tighter around him until nothing got in... nothing at all...


      ~~~~~~~~~


      Voices... Voices disturbed the numbness...

      "Jean, Storm, help me... Found him at the side of the road... bike must've
      gone out from under him..." Door opened... He was lifted out again into a
      wheelchair... Smelled Jean and Storm... Smelled their fear... concern... <go
      away...>

      "Scott, why is he like this?" Jean's voice, as he felt the chair begin to
      move. The sunlight against his lids vanished, replaced by artificial light
      as he was rolled inside. Down the hall.... smelled the wood polish...

      "I don't know - he hasn't said a word or reacted to anything since I found
      him. He's got blood all over him, so the crash must've been bad. All the
      wounds seem to have healed except for one, on his stomach. It's bad, Jean,
      and it isn't healing like the rest..." Felt the wheelchair stop, his shirt
      peeled away again...

      "Oh god..." Felt the wheelchair start moving again, much quicker than
      before. Scott's voice from somewhere behind him...

      "Jean, why isn't it healing?"

      "I don't know yet, Scott... He hasn't said anything at all?"

      "Nothing, not a word. I know it has to hurt him, but he didn't even make a
      sound when I moved him. It's like he's catatonic or something." Elevator
      doors sliding open and then shut again. Movement downwards...

      "Was there any evidence of a head wound?"

      "Only the dried blood on his face you can see, but none in his hair. I don't
      think that's it, Jean."

      "I don't think so either, Scott..."

      "Perhaps he doesn't *want* to heal..." Storm's quiet voice, followed by
      silence.

      "Is that possible? Can he control it like that?"

      "If the will to die is strong enough, anything is possible." Storm... always
      so quiet... always so observant...

      "Jean?" Fear leaking off Scott in waves now...

      "It's possible, Scott... I've seen perfectly healthy people waste away to
      nothing in days," Jean... always hiding behind that reserved, medical
      facade...

      "But why? Why would he?"

      "I think we all know why, Scott..." Metal doors sliding open and shut...
      Sharp, sterile air...

      "He can't blame himself for what they did, dammit!" Anger now... Desparate,
      desparate anger...

      "I'll know more once I've run some tests - first I need to stitch this up and
      try to stop the bleeding. Scott?" Arms slipping underneath him... Lurching
      movement... Smooth, cold metal against his back... The sharp snip sound of
      scissors... air caressing his bare skin... The sting of a needle... The
      pulling of skin and muscle in his abdomen... <Go away...>

      "Shit..."

      "Jean?"

      "His vitals are weakening... Scott, move out of my way, goddammit!" Plastic
      being torn open... Prick of a needle in his arm... Pressure as the fluid
      threaded its way into his veins... Sink deeper into the darkness... Don't
      feel... Don't feel... <Because of me...>

      "They're stabilizing, but they're still thready." Tired sigh... "I have to
      go update the Professor..."

      "I think there's someone else you're overlooking, Jean." Quiet, quiet
      Storm... <Just go away... don't say it...>

      "She's been a mess, Ororo - I don't know if she could handle this right now."

      "There may not be any other time, Jean." Sighing breath...

      "Try to talk to her... I'll speak with the Professor. Scott, stay with him."

      "Jean, I don't have any medical training..."

      "I'm more worried about what he might do to himself, if left alone."
      Silence... Footsteps... Doors sliding open and shut... Silence... The
      scrape of a chair against a wall... Minutes ticking away... Ticking...
      ticking... Nothing to disturb the silence. Only pain. Pain and screaming...
      Eyes open to stare at the white ceiling. Slide to the left to see Scott,
      slumped in a chair, head down in thought. Quiet... must be quiet... Must
      not let him hear... Not until it's too late...

      Stiff arm muscles flex and move... Hand creeping slowly... oh so slowly up
      his chest... Quiet... must be quiet... Knuckles rest gently against the
      tender skin under his chin... Breathing slows... Concentrate... A face swims
      across closed eyelids... Pain... <Because of me...> Feel the metal slide
      from beneath aching skin... Centimeter by centimeter... Feel pressure...
      pain... Blood begins to seep... Bite down to keep the pain inside...

      "Logan!! Nooooo!!!" Time stops. Don't breath... don't move... don't
      listen... <Do it...Now...> Metal begins to inch forward... Warm, spicy scent
      swirling around him... Soft fingers grasping his hand tightly... Muscles
      tighten and lock...

      "Logan..." Sweet, soft voice... Pain... pain... pain... <You... because of
      me...> "Logan, please don't... Don't leave me alone again... It wasn't your
      fault... I'm sorry... It wasn't your fault... Please don't leave me..." Salt
      water drops falling on his face... Eyes slide open again. To see beautiful
      amber eyes staring at him from inches away. No hate, no blame. Only fear,
      agony, pleading... and love. Undeniable, unquestionable love. Numbness
      begins to shred and fall away in tatters... Aching throat muscles shift,
      tighten...

      "Forgive me?" His voice sounded harsh and grating in his ears. Tears
      overflowed Kiara's eyes as she bent her forehead to his.

      "There's nothing to forgive, love..." He felt the hot tears spill down his
      own cheeks.

      "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Because of me..." Over his whispered words, he
      heard the doors slide open and shut again, as Scott quietly left them alone
      in the lab.

      "Shhh.... Because of you, I'm alive and I'm no longer alone..." He let it go
      then, the pain. Let it wash away in the tears that mingled on his cheeks.
      Let it crumble under the stroke of gentle fingers in his hair. Let it
      disappear beneath the soft lips that kissed his own... Let it go...

      End of Chapter 18
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