Chapter 5
Scott kept a quiet watch on Logan over the next few days, but outwardly, nothing seemed amiss. Logan was his usual self, isolating in the woods for hours on end, teaching his classes with his normal passion, and showing up for meals. But the more Scott observed, the more he noticed.
He began to notice that Logan’s meals were. . . strange. Logan’s diet consisted almost entirely of raw foods; raw eggs, raw fish, unseasoned, untouched by heat or spice. Now that he thought back, Scott couldn’t remember a time when Logan had ever eaten anything cooked. He never bothered with cooked dishes. In fact, the only other thing Logan seemed to consume regularly was alcohol, which, Scott thought, probably didn’t really count as nourishment.
The realization gnawed at Scott. Had it always been like this? Had he just never paid attention before? He couldn’t remember Logan ever eating a proper meal. Was it a taste issue for him or a part of his mutation? It must somewhat be a part of his mutation if his dentition was different in such a way to allow Logan to more easily eat frozen meat. It was something he needed to ask Logan, but how could he bring it up without making it seem like he was prying? Logan was notoriously private, and such a personal question might not sit well with him. Yet, there was something in the back of Scott’s mind that told him it was worth asking. He did readily share the tidbit about his special tooth, so maybe Logan would be open to talking about it?
Still, Scott knew Logan well enough to understand that pushing too hard would only make him retreat further. It was more likely than not that Logan wouldn’t give him a straight answer. But the question lingered in his mind for days. He’d have to find a way to ask, without stepping on Logan’s fiercely guarded privacy.
Truthfully, what was bothering Scott the most was the sudden realization that Logan saw himself as a human shield, explaining why he was always throwing himself first into battle. Scott had known Logan to be self-sacrificial, always willing to take the hits for others, but he had never fully understood the depth of that mindset. Now, having heard Logan voice it so plainly, it made Scott nervous about their next mission.
It was only six days later that the X-Men were called out. A small armed militia of the Purifiers had taken a small town called Newcastle down in Utah hostage. The population had a high density of mutants to human ratio, many of the mutants were transplants from fleeing higher-density areas where they were not welcome. This influx of marginalized individuals seeking safety and acceptance had drawn the ire of the Purifiers, who viewed Newcastle as a breeding ground for the mutant threat.
The situation escalated rapidly when a group of Purifiers, armed and organized, stormed into the town. They barricaded themselves in key locations, taking several residents hostage, including families, shopkeepers, and even some local schoolchildren. The group, led by Matthew Risman, had come to Newcastle with a clear mission: to send a message to the mutant community that they would not be tolerated, no matter where they sought refuge. They had set up makeshift barricades at the town's entrances, fortified buildings, and used loudspeakers to broadcast their extremist ideology, instilling fear in the hearts of those trapped inside.
As the X-Men team flew toward Newcastle, anticipation crackled in the air. They all sat in the back of jet, strapped in facing each other across the small aisle. Scott gathered everyone’s attention.
“Alright, once we arrive, we need to act quickly and quietly to disarm the extremists and rescue the hostages,” he instructed, his voice steady but urgent. He paused for a moment, gauging the determined expressions of his teammates before continuing. “Jean, you’ll go in first to draw their attention. Your telepathy will help us gauge their thoughts and movements, keeping their focus on you.”
Jean nodded, her expression serious. She understood the weight of her role in this mission and the risks involved.
“Shadowcat and Rogue, you’ll move through the buildings to free any hostages you find,” Scott said, looking directly at them. “Use your abilities to get in and out undetected. Stay alert; we don’t know how many of them are armed or what they might do to the hostages.”
“Got it,” Kitty replied, her determination evident. Rogue smirked, taking off her gloves. “Just leave the rescuing to us.”
“Iceman, you’re on the east side,” Scott continued. “Take out the guards positioned there quickly and quietly. Use your ice to create barriers or distractions if needed.”
“On it, sir!” Bobby grinned, cracking his knuckles as he envisioned how to handle the guards with his powers.
“I’ll cover the west side,” Scott added, his tone resolute. “Nightcrawler and Jubilee, you two will approach from the back. Use your teleportation and agility to get the drop on anyone who might be watching.”
Nightcrawler nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with excitement. “We’ll be like shadows, my friend! They won’t see us coming!”
Scott took a breath, his gaze sweeping over the team, ensuring everyone was prepared. “We’ll start at the edge of town and work our way in. We have to be synchronized, every move counts. Remember, we’re not just dealing with thugs; these are the Purifiers, and they’re dangerous. Protect the hostages at all costs.”
“Any questions?” Scott asked, preparing to clarify anything before the operation kicked off.
“Yeah, I’ve got one, bub. What am I supposed to do, just twiddle my thumbs?” Logan replied, annoyance evident in his voice. Scott glanced over at Logan, frowning at the tension brewing.
“You’re our backup,” Scott stated firmly.
“Backup? I’ve never been backup for any mission!” Logan growled, crossing his arms defensively. The rest of the team shifted uncomfortably, casting nervous glances between Logan and Scott, bracing for a potential confrontation.
“Well, now's a good time to start. With Jubilee, Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue being new to the team, I want them to experience different formations and learn to adapt,” Scott explained, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.
“That’s bullshit, Summers, and you know it! This is about what I said last week, isn’t it? You don’t want me on the front lines because you’re afraid! My place on this team is at the front for a reason, Cyke! I can handle the heat better than anyone else. It makes more sense for me to distract those guys while Jean acts as our backup, keeping us connected mentally without the need for loud communication while sneaking around.”
“Well, now we’re changing it!” Scott insisted, his voice rising.
“Yeah, and what if Jean gets shot at?!” Logan shot back, his frustration boiling over.
“She has her powers! She can sense if they’re going to fire at her, and even if they do, she’s stopped bullets plenty of times before,” Scott argued, trying to remain calm.
“When she sees them coming! What if she doesn’t?!” Logan countered; his voice thick with concern and anger.
Jean opened her mouth to interject, to reassure Logan that she was perfectly capable of taking point, but as she brushed against his mind, she felt the turmoil within him. Logan’s mental shields shoved back against her and she gave them a telepathic pat as an apology for attempting to invade his privacy. But the small glances of feeling’s she got from him had her concerned. It wasn’t anger driving him; it was fear. Logan had always been the one to charge in first, the one to take the brunt of the danger. What did that make him if he couldn’t fulfill that role? What if someone else got hurt?
“I can take a hit you all can’t! Let me go first!” Logan snarled at Scott, unbuckling and standing up from his seat. It wasn’t often Logan would venture from the safety of his seat while flying, but it seemed anger had his fear pushed aside.
“But you don’t need to take a hit! You’re not a human shield, Logan! You are a part of this team and I think it’s time for you to stop putting yourself in harms way! We need to be better, and we can’t do that if we rely on you to step in front of us every time! It’s our turn!” Scott was now standing as well, yelling back at Logan. The plane had reached the area just outside of Newcastle, but it was still several hundred feet in the air as it descended.
Logan snarled and did something none of them had ever seen before. He ripped open the plane’s door and jumped out. Scott lurched forward, reaching to stop him, but Logan was already gone, plummeting to the ground below. Jean ripped her seatbelt off, tearing the strap and warping the metal as she surged towards the open door, wind buffeting her. Scott grabbed her arm as she leaned out the door to look down. She made to reach out after Logan, use her powers to stop him or at least soften the landing, but Logan had already reached the ground. Both herself and Scott winced as they saw Logan hit the rocky soil, rolling to lessen the impact, but it was violent enough that even as far up as they were, Jean and Scott could see blood on the ground. Logan stood up from where he tumbled, as a sudden cloud of smoke appeared and Kurt was next to him, attempting to check Logan over. Logan waved him away and stalked off towards the town, not cloaking himself at all. He was going to take point no matter what, he wouldn’t let his team be hurt when he could prevent it.
Logan bit back a sharp hiss of pain, shaking his head and waving Kurt off as he struggled to his feet. Despite the throbbing ache in his body, he started moving toward the town, each step deliberate but strained. There was a faint, unsettling pop as his right shoulder snapped back into place, the one that had taken the brunt of the impact when he hit the ground. Dislocating a joint usually required a lot of force, but the fall from such a height had done the job easily enough.
Logan drew in a slow, steadying breath, focusing as his healing factor went to work. Each injury was counted off in his mind, a silent tally of pain that he buried deep within himself. A ruptured spleen, the jagged remnants of shattered teeth lodged in his gums, a bitten tongue that sent a sharp throb down his throat. His body was a canvas of damage, muscles torn, skin split open like burst seams, blood steadily seeping from the long, raw gashes. He spat out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth, the metallic taste lingering as he wiped his face with a trembling hand.
Kurt darted around him, his movements a blur, his voice distant and muffled, unable to reach Logan's ears through the ringing in his head. The world felt distant, every sound distorted by his burst eardrums, but he didn't need to hear Kurt's words. He could feel the urgency in the air, the tension that hung over them.
Then, once again, Jean’s presence brushed against his mind. This time, it wasn’t a gentle probe, this was a more insistent knock, one filled with desperation. He could feel the pressure of it, a mental pulse that demanded his attention, pushing against his mental barriers harder than before.
Logan let his mental barriers slip just enough to allow a surface connection with Jean, and almost instantly, her voice flooded his thoughts, sharp with concern.
‘Logan! Are you okay?’
He snorted, a rough laugh escaping his lips, and blood sprayed from his once-broken nose. The sound of his own voice seemed to break through the dull, ringing noise in his head as his eardrums finally healed. The rush of sound hit him all at once.
‘I'm fine, Jeanie. Stick to Scott's plan, but you and I are switching spots’
For a heartbeat, there was silence, and Logan could feel the tension on the other end. He knew Jean and Scott were talking. But that the situation had already shifted. Scott wouldn’t be able to do much from a distance now that Logan was on the ground. Trying to change plans now would only serve to highlight their numbers, drawing unwanted attention.
An alarm blared through the air, its shrill sound cutting through the tension. The unmistakable wail echoed through the town as the first wave of chaos was set loose. The Wolverine roared in response, a sound of pure fury that vibrated in his chest, and in the next breath, he was charging forward. His muscles screamed with the effort as the first rounds of gunfire rang out from Purifier soldiers, their weapons aimed at him. The bullets hit him, but they were insignificant right now. He had a job to do. Without hesitation, Logan dropped to all fours, his claws extending with a sharp metallic snikt. He threw himself into the fray, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder, his movements fluid and his mind focused entirely on the battle.
“What the fuck was that?!” Logan froze, taken aback by Scott’s words. His gaze swept over the scene, the aftermath of the battle. Scattered around him were the Purifiers, most of them dead, the others subdued and being handcuffed by Rogue and Kitty. Former hostages, cautiously emerging from their hiding places, were being tended to by the cops and the emergency medical teams who had finally arrived.
Logan blinked, still processing the situation, and then looked at Scott, completely confused. "What?" he asked, his voice thick with bewilderment. He looked around again, trying to figure out if he’d missed something vital.
"You, Logan," Scott snapped, his tone shifting from anger to something colder, more calculating. "You could have-" He cut himself off, his gaze flicking to the humans and civilians slowly gathering around, still shaken but safe.
"Nightcrawler." Scott’s voice was sharp, commanding. Kurt appeared beside Scott in an instant, his eyes darting from one man to the other, uncertainty clouding his expression.
"Take Wolverine back to the mansion and rejoin us once that's done."
Logan's eyes narrowed, his anger flaring up once more. "Now wait just a second! You can't-" he started, his voice rising, but Scott didn’t hesitate. He cut him off with a cold finality.
"I can and I will. I’m the leader, and what you did today could have cost us the mission, and worse, it could have gotten innocent people killed." Scott’s voice was frigid, more distant than Logan had ever heard it before. The words stung, harder than any physical blow. Logan stood frozen, mind racing.
Kurt hesitated for a moment, glancing between them both, before he gently placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. Without a word, he teleported them both away, leaving the chaos and tension behind.
When Logan opened his eyes, he was standing in the foyer of the mansion. The familiar walls seemed suddenly cold, the silence in the air thick. Kurt offered him a quick, wavering smile before disappearing again, leaving Logan standing alone. The mission was over, but the weight of Scott’s words hung heavy in the air, gnawing at him.
Logan moved through the mansion in a daze, his steps heavy and deliberate as if each one took more effort than the last. His body was stiff, still trembling from the aftershocks of the battle, and the rush of adrenaline was quickly fading. As it did, the echoes of his injuries hit him like a freight train, the pain from the battle coursing through his body in sharp, unrelenting waves.
He reached his room and stumbled to the bed, collapsing onto it with a grunt. His eyes locked onto the floor, his hands clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his teeth grinding against each other with a loud creak.
Logan knew that once his body fully settled, the true extent of the pain would come to the surface. It wasn’t often he fell from such heights, but when he did, the aftermath was always brutal. The impact and subsequent injuries were ones that caused massive amount of agony.
Logan looked longingly at his drawer where his hidden stash was. The temptation to reach for what was in that drawer was primal, urgent. He ground his teeth together, staring at the drawer, fighting the urge. His whole body was screaming at him but Logan knew soon enough Scott would be back and there would be an emergency meeting about what happened. Even if the drugs wore off before then, he’d be tempted to take more after such a massive injury and he couldn’t fall to the call of the narcotics.
His own will would have to be enough for now.