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Fic: Perfect Ring of Scars 11: Remain

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  • Aericura
    Title/Part: PRS 11: Remain Series: Perfect Ring of Scars Author: Shana Nolan E-Mail: aericura@micron.net Genre: angst!! (J,L,S,R) Rating: strong R (implied
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 5, 2000
      Title/Part: PRS 11: Remain
      Series: Perfect Ring of Scars
      Author: Shana Nolan
      E-Mail: aericura@...
      Genre: angst!! (J,L,S,R)
      Rating: strong R (implied sexual sitches, language, violence, drug usage)
      Archive: the usual suspects, and others will ask first
      Summary: to quote a line from a later part: "the year from hell"
      Disclaimers: Fox and Marvel Entertainment Group have the X-Men and their
      movie. Stan Lee, I worship at your feet. I don't own anyone and I don't
      intend to sell this. no money, no sue, no powers. but my CB handle was
      Phoenix (great, date yourself, why don't you).
      Comments: are welcome. Flames, however, are only accepted from a mutant
      named Pyro and even he knows better.


      PRS: Remain


      "yet you still remain crucified, after all i've died, after all i've tried,
      you are still inside"


      Everything went turned to chaos once Logan stepped inside the hospital.
      Already upset over the feeble explanation Scott had offered about Rogue's
      "condition," Jean was about ready to ask to go home early and sack it all
      for a few hours of extra sleep when she ran headlong into the next to last
      person she wanted to see in Toronto.


      Seeing her caught him off guard. Hell, smelling her, despite the disgusting
      odour of disinfectant, was enough to make him stiffen, her red hair pulled
      off her face and the blue scrubs hanging loosely around her curves.

      Curves that he remembered all too well.

      "Jeannie, what are ya doing here?"

      "I work here, Logan," she used his name as a warning, hoping to discourage
      him, "so I guess the question is, what brings you here? You rarely need
      medical attention."

      "I dunno, but I spotted a bike like ol' One Eye's in the lot and wanted to
      make sure he hadn't crushed his skull, or something."

      "Touching, but it was Rogue who came in."

      His entire world teetered briefly on the tip of a needle. "What?"

      "Look, I don't know what you've heard, or when the last time you guys met up
      for missions was, but--"

      "They kicked me out after you ran, Red."

      "Oh." Her face fell. Yet another thing to add to what she had done to
      others. "Well, since you and I've been gone, I think there's been some
      happenings. I just talked to Scott, and the baby that Rogue miscarried is,
      or was, his."

      The look that passed over Logan's face was enough to tell her that her
      sentence was poorly chosen.

      This was not her night by the very longest of shots.

      "She'll be fine, there's no real harm to her body, though I do want to keep
      her a few days to make sure she's okay and try to find out why her power
      stopped working temporarily-- Logan, are you listening to me?"

      The primal anger was eating him alive. Rogue was his girl, his sweet
      Marie... and now she was laying in a hospital room because the fearless
      leader couldn't keep his business where it belonged. "Outta my way."


      The claws popped from his hand in menace and failing lack of control. "Step
      aside, Jean."

      "You're not going any further like this. Are you trying to get all of us in

      Every word was a growl. "He. hurt. her."

      "No, he didn't. Get out of my hospital, Logan."

      "How the hell can you be so calm about this? He was your pussy whipped
      plaything before he went and blamed you for having an active subconscious,
      and now he's touched the one girl that I was told I couldn't. Ever. Share
      in the jealousy, Red, we've both been shafted."

      Her eyes narrowed. This was not the time for her to let him do this, much
      less tell him he was right in certain aspects. "Get out before someone gets

      "Somebody already did."

      She crossed her arms. "Logan, please."

      Touching her for the first time since that night, he set a hand, claws fully
      extended and brushing her chin, on her shoulder, and pushed. Easily
      knocking her to the floor, Logan growled, shook his head and stalked down
      the hall, following his nose to the set of smells he knew very well despite
      his hiatus.

      When he spotted Scott, who stood immediately at the sight of the other man,
      he brandished a hand and pointed the other clawed one at the glasses.

      "Logan! What are you doing?"

      Not bothering to talk further, ignoring the startled glances from other
      people in the waiting room, Logan picked up the slimmer man, tossed him
      against a wall and walked over to pin him against the stucco before he could
      stand again. "You touched my girl, Cyke, and I don't know whether to skewer
      you or rip your head off. You caused her pain, and I'm gonna visit it right
      back to you, bub."

      "It was an accident!" Scott wheezed, the impact against the wall stealing
      his breath. "I didn't even know she had accepted the drugs until it was too
      late, and that was the next morning. How were either of us to know it would
      negate her powers?!"

      "And you just happened to get her knocked up in one shot, eh, bub?"

      "It was an accident! I don't remember half the night!"

      "You'll remember this--"


      The threats paused as Logan turned his head to regard Jean standing across
      the way with a pair of security guards. Most of the people had scattered
      behind the guards or out of the hallway entirely, but the two men, one
      burly, one trim and a little muscular, had their hands straying towards
      their guns.

      "Get away from him! I told you to get out!"

      "And I told you to stay out of it." His gaze returned to Scott. "She's
      still lookin' out for you, consider yerself lucky."

      "I do. We can talk about this, man."

      "Put him down."

      "There's no talkin' left to do." Raising his right fist and retracting the
      claws, he used the now free fingers to grasp the other man by the throat.
      About to resettle the points on a prime spot just below Scott's sternum, he
      leveled the blades at his face. "If you ever do shit like this again, I'm
      gonna gut you from foot to hairline, Summers."

      "Put him down or I shoot."

      Barely able to swallow, Scott's voice was more of a squeak. "Hardly a

      "Final warning, freak. Set the guy down or I will shoot."

      Logan was oblivious to the guard, lowering his steel tipped hand slowly.
      "Good, glad we understand each other."


      And then it happened. Jean, able to pick up on the uneasy truce that had
      just been made between the two, eased her stance and backed up a little.

      That was when the shot rang out. The bullet hit the clawed mutant in the
      thigh, making him howl and jerk forcefully on impact, his free hand rearing

      And cutting deeply into Scott's chest.

      Shoving aside the guard who now held his gun in horror, Jean bolted from her
      place across the room. "NO! Oh god no!"

      Logan instinctively retracted the adamantium, wincing at the wet snap they
      made when Scott's body was freed from them, his face contorted in pain as he
      slid down the wall.

      Memories flooded her. The dream. The dream that had set her running over a
      year ago. It was a premonition, the blood thick and dark as it spilled out
      the three wounds, staining the grey shirt.

      It was not a jealous man's fantasy, it was real.

      And she hadn't realised that truth in time to prevent it.

      Logan backed away, horrified. Jean, grabbing the space to lay her ex-fiancé
      flat on the ground, ripped the shirt to see just how large the wounds were.
      "Get a gurney and Doctor Angelo, now! Scott... just hold on. Come on
      honey, I know it hurts like hell but you have to hold on..."

      Inhaling only to find his mouth filled with a bitter copper taste, the red
      haze that was his glasses and power started to darken. Replaced by a sickly
      blackness that was taking his awareness away, Scott could have sworn he felt
      hands lift him off the ground and onto something softer.

      It was almost the last thing he ever experienced.


      next: Submission

      ...with a serious Logan fetish

      "'There are three rules in life. One, there's always a victim. Two, don't
      be it.'
      'And three?'
      'I forgot three.'" 8MM
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