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All's Fair In Love and War, Parts 23-24/?

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  • Luvofcourfeyrac@aol.com
    He was going to be sick. He d done this a million times, or so it seemed, in the last few weeks, but it never got any better. Each time he had to wade through
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 2, 2001
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      He was going to be sick. He'd done this a million times, or so it
      seemed, in the last few weeks, but it never got any better. Each time
      he had to wade through the floods of dried carcasses, he felt sick to
      his stomach, and cursed his healing factor for not including nausea
      to the long list of injuries it could heal.
      He knew that wasn't it...not entirely anyway. True, it pained him
      to see how terribly thin the people beneath his feet were. What was
      even worse though, was that every time he looked into one of their
      faces, he could have sworn it was Marie. It lasted but a brief
      moment, but the impact was long standing.
      It'd been almost a good two months since he'd heard about the Red
      Cross centers being over run, and their nurses taken captive. Since
      then, he'd joined with the group going from camp to camp to aid
      surivors, in hopes of finding Marie sooner. So far, after having been
      to at least six different camps, he was beginning to give up hope.
      None of the forms, dead or alive, was his Marie. He was beginning to
      hope he could find her, just so he could put closure to this whole
      As if to answer his plea, the man in charge of the group Wolverine
      was with called him over. He stood, wiping his sweat bombarded
      forehead and stalked over there. He kept his head high, looking
      anywhere but at the huddled masses of corpses strewn out over the
      land. Still, it was no use. His sensitive senses instantly picked up
      on the god-awful smell, indenting a permanent scowl of sorts into his
      features. "Yes sir?"
      "Take a few men and go into the women's barracks. If we don't
      spread out soon, at least three forths of the people still alive will
      end up dead before we reach them." Offering nothing but a nod in
      reply, Wolverine called Scott Summers, Remy Lebeau, and two others
      that he hadn't really known much before now, and started toward the

      The hallways were narrow...a nightmare to any claustrophobic. Even
      someone like himself who wasn't afraid of inclosed places could have
      trouble. The air was stuffy and cold, hanging heavily on his
      shoulders. The only sounds echoing through the place were the
      footsteps he and his soldiers were making. Logan faintly breathed,
      staring down at all the doors they'd have to enter in just a
      moment. "All right, you two, go that way." He pointed down the
      opposite hallway. "Each one of you take a side. Check for anyone
      still living." He waited for them to depart before turning back to a
      second hallway. "Lebeau, Summers, same for this hallway." After they
      departed he took the final stretch of rooms for himself, moving in
      and out slowly.
      The women in there were a tragic sight. Most of the ones he came
      upon were already dead. Their stomachs all caved inward, clearly
      showing signs of starvation. Just then he remembered all the joy he'd
      taken in fighting people, killing people, and it wiped away the
      strength he had to hold up his head. He was not proud of himself for
      what he'd done, but he knew he couldn't change things. Not the past
      anyway. He could change himself for the future...but would it be
      "Wolverine!" He spun around and quickly exited the room he'd been
      "What is it?" He was edging his way over to where the Cajun voice
      was calling him.
      "I found one! She still alive!" He picked up his pace, jogging
      over to the room and entering slowly. It was darker than the other,
      for it was on the other side of the building, away from what little
      sun was showing. It cast a deep shadow on the form over which Remy
      was hovering.
      "All right, get outta here. There're more rooms to check. Lebeau,
      take the hall I was doing. Summers, go get more help, then continue
      on with this one." Right as Scott began to depart, Wolverine grabbed
      him by his shoulder. "Get a medic in here, now." Not waiting for a
      response, Logan turned back to the poor creature before him. The last
      person on his mind at the moment was Marie, yet, upon closer
      inspection, that's exactly who it was. "Marie...?" Letting out a
      string of curses, he carefully took her face in his hands, after
      being sure they were gloved, and turned her face to look at him. She
      looked more a stranger to him now than when he'd first walked into
      the room.
      Her face was covered in bruises...one lightly circling her left
      eye, one encompassing her jaw bone, and a third, surrounding her
      right cheek. Her eyes were slightly open, yet he knew she wasn't
      awake, nor was she dead. He ran his thumb gently over her lips, now
      turning a pale blue coloring due to lack of heat. The next minute, he
      shrugged out of his jacket and carefully pulled it around her. "L-
      Logan...?" She couldn't know how relieved he was to hear her
      "Hey darlin'...you just hang tight. We're gonna get you help..."
      Her response was no more than a faint nod. Lifting her limp body into
      his arms, he was surprised at how much lighter she was than last time
      he'd held her. Surprised and horrified all at once. He was careful to
      hold down his emotions so that he didn't hold her tighter and
      possibly hurt her, as he made his way out of the barracks. The others
      he'd brought in had already returned and were weaving in and out of
      the rooms, some bearing good news, others not. He barely paid them
      heed. At the moment, he knew his destination, he knew how to get
      there, and he knew that he had to get there soon. That was all that
      was going through his mind at the moment.
      Grabbing the nearest medic he could, he pulled him into the tent
      that Logan had set up to sleep in at nights. "You are going to stay
      here, and you are going to take care of her, do you hear me?" The raw
      desperation, mixed with blind hatred for the ones who did this to
      Marie so frightened the poor man before Logan that all he could do
      was nod. "I don't care what anybody says to you. If they try and tell
      you otherwise, you tell them to come talk to me about it...you got
      "Y-Yes sir." The man's eyes were wide as Logan, the same man who
      had all but lashed out at him in savagery, gently set the woman down
      upon the sleeping bags within the tent.
      "Good." Taking one last glance at Marie, Logan climbed out of the
      tent and looked around. He didn't want to continue doing this. He
      wanted to stay in that tent and be the first thing Marie saw when she
      woke up. He wanted to hold her hand and brush the hair from her face
      and tell her everything would be all right because he was there for
      her, now and always. But he couldn't. Not in his right mind. He
      wasn't the only one with a lover who lay hurt, starving, and beaten
      because of this Nazi cruelty. It wouldn't be fair to sit back and
      care for his own needs when others were out there, huddled against
      the dead, shivering in the cold, waiting for salvation that may not
      come in time...
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