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Fic: A Touch To Tame the Animal (L/original character)

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  • "Sunshine"
    Title: A Touch to Tame the Animal Rated PG for descriptions of violence Feedback - absolutely Summary - Logan s dreams still haunt him. Another chapter in
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 29, 2003
      Title: A Touch to Tame the Animal

      Rated PG for descriptions of violence

      Feedback - absolutely

      Summary - Logan's dreams still haunt him. Another chapter in the
      Wolverine/Panther story

      He lies down in bed. His head is swimming from intoxication – he has
      ingested enough bourbon to put down an elephant. But, he fears the
      dreams – the memories buried deep in the recesses of his mind. Every
      night for as long as he could remember he has had these dreams and
      every night he has not had a peaceful night's sleep.

      His dreams have kept him company every night since the time that he
      was changed - an awakening that kept him on the run for so many
      years. Life was bad enough trying to live in a prejudiced society
      that shunned him for being genetically different. Then, they altered
      him – made into an even larger freak of nature with an unnatural
      skeleton. He was made into a living weapon – a monster with
      unmeasured healing abilities and alloy claws – and by people he must
      of at one time trusted.

      Trust. He has buried his ability to trust. Living amongst people
      who hate and fear him – how could he trust? The animal lives on
      instincts to survive and that is how he lived 15 years of his life.
      Only recently has he let his guard down to a few people. They have
      touched a part of him and reintroduced him to trust.

      A sense of fear sweeps over him – a fear to sleep because sleeping
      brings the dreams. Many a night he has awakened from the dreams
      soaked with sweat and having impaled something with the claws. He
      has lost count of how many bed sheets, mattresses, and other objects
      have fallen victim to his restless nights. Because of this, he has
      remained isolated at night never sharing his bed with anyone for fear
      of the injury he could inflict on an innocent soul.

      There is recollection of when an innocent fell victim to his
      nightmares. It happened maybe four years ago now. She was an
      innocent bystander only wishing to help him escape the dreams. Lucky
      for her that she was a mutant and made use of his healing ability, or
      she too would have been counted with the many bodies that have fallen
      prey to metal claws and a berserker rage. His guilt-ridden
      conscience still blames himself for that night.

      He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the floor of the room he has
      called home for quite some time – considerably longer than any other
      place he has resided in - this school for mutants in New York. He
      has not forgotten how long he has been an on and off resident here.
      He takes in a deep breath and prepares to close his eyes wishing
      silently the booze would knock him out long enough to get a few hours
      of rest.

      As his brain drifts into sleep, and the images begin to taunt him

      He feels cold – his body stripped naked. He feels confined – he is
      laid out on a cold slab and held in place with metal restraints. No
      matter how hard he struggles, he cannot free himself. The animal
      rages in fear and with a willingness to chew off his own appendages
      if it means freedom. He feels pain – an incredible pain as the men
      with no faces cut him up like a side of beef. They slice his flesh
      and expose his bones to the open air. Incredible agony – he feels a
      fiery searing pain of molten metal bonding to his bare bones.

      His body shudders and sweats as the dream persists. His bed sheets
      become saturated as he tosses and turns and cries out. His
      subconscious is furiously tormenting him with these repressed

      Anger. Pain. Rage. He finds a hidden strength deep down inside in
      a place he didn't know he has and breaks the bonds that hold him. He
      is free. The animal is free. The mutant man is free. The water
      drips down his naked body, and he quickly pans around summing up his
      situation and searching for a way to escape. Faceless man after
      faceless man try to capture him. He runs as fast as his wet bare
      feet can take him. He senses danger in all directions.

      Pain – incredible pain as something pierces the skin of his hands.
      He cries out like a wounded animal looking at the metal blades that
      have appeared through his knuckles. He sees and smells blood – his
      blood – pouring out of the wounds the blades made, and he cries out
      in terror and agony. He cannot begin to comprehend what they have
      done to him.

      Fear – he is being hunted. The animal runs again but is cornered.
      Instincts tell him to fight. He must fight or face being captured
      and tortured again.

      The raging animal turns towards his captors. Metal blades cut
      flesh. He sees and smells blood again. He tastes blood. This time
      it is not just his own. His skin turns red from the shower of blood
      from his victims – his captors – his torturers - they fall one by one
      as he fights for freedom.

      A touch – a gentle caressing feeling on his naked shoulder from
      delicate fingers tracing circles on his skin. The alloy is piercing
      his knuckles. He hears a soft voice calling him back to
      consciousness – leading him out of the darkness to the light. He
      rises with a fury and prepares to strike. His breathing comes quick
      and short. Lightning fast reflexes take the would-be victim out of
      harm's way. A hand holds his outstretched arm strongly.

      Fingers on his flesh again trace circles. The touch soothes him –
      the voice calms him. He feels the warmth of someone nearby. The
      feeling of rage slowly lessens.

      He is drawn back to reality – the soft sweet compassion in her voice
      brings the animal to rest. He begins to give her his trust, even
      though he has only known her a short time. Somehow, he feels a
      connection with her – her mutation is the same as his – her feral
      personality like his.

      The touch – he feels like he is in a trance and powerless. The
      softness of her fingers making circles on his shoulder commands his
      full attention. She doesn't fear him – she doesn't shun or hate him –
      for she too is like him. In fact, she is him in so many ways. He
      glances silently into her eyes. There is an understanding there – an
      understanding unparalleled by even the innocent girl who melded with
      his mind or the telepath who tried to.

      Silently he looks at her. Her fingers run through his soaked hair.
      His eyes close as a sense of relaxation falls over him – something he
      has never experienced before – at least, for as long as memory serves
      him. Slowly, he lies down under her silent order.

      She lies in bed by his side telling him she will stay until he falls
      asleep. There is no fear or hate - just compassion, understanding
      and a gentle touch that makes him relax. She shares her warmth and
      gentleness. He gives her his trust closing his eyes with the belief
      that she is there to help.

      A touch – a gentle touch of circling fingers on slippery flesh. A
      touch – fingers run softly over his lengthy sideburns. A touch –
      fingers slide down his neck slowly. A touch – fingers trace circles
      on his shoulder. A touch – his soul calmed by a soothing voice
      telling him everything will be all right. A touch that opens his
      heart. A touch that comforts his frightened soul and gentles the
      raging animal.
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