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Author:
"L Burke" <crowtrobot_2000@hotmail.com>
This story was inspired by that preview cover where Jean is kissing
Logan.
That and the debates on this list got me thinking. What would happen
after
the fact? How was Scott going to react? How would Logan? Thatīs
what
inspired this story. I donīt write through Loganīs eyes very much, so I
really hope I did him justice. Feedback is always welcome.
I found him standing by his tombstone in
the cemetery. One kiss in a
moment of passion had let this genie out of the bottle. I was here trying
to put that particular four thousand year old genie back in. I had messed
up. I knew it. Jeannie was his wife and one kiss had been too
far. I knew
that too.
He was standing at his grave looking down at his tombstone. He was
wearing
a black cloak. I took that information in. Cyke was not the
dramatic type.
Maybe, just maybe, New York was a little cold for his new dessert blood
these days. He looked like something out of hell itself with that
black
cloak blowing in the wind and his eyes glowing under the hood in the
dark.
None of the X-men really knew whom we had gotten back from Old Lips. Man
or
demon none of us really knew yet. Jeannie least of all. Thatīs what
had
lead us to that kiss. Tonight I had a feeling I was going to find out.
"What do you want Logan?" Scott asked coldly. No point in
hiding, I was
going to face the music. It was always what I did best anyway. I
never
avoided a fight.
I cleared my throat. "I wanted to tell you what happened,
happened. It
wasnīt planned and it wonīt happen again."
He was quiet for a really long time. "I wonder how Jean would take
you
speaking for her?" He finally stated rather coldly.
"It wonīt happen again on my end." I stated mater of fact.
Apparently he was ignoring me. "I always wondered why she never had
them
take the tombstone down after she came back. Now I am starting to
understand. Mine is rather fitting. Scott Summers did die that
day."
He was purposely trying to irritate me and succeeding admirably. "I
told
you it wonīt happen again. It was my fault, not Jeannieīs."
Those glowing eyes just studied me for a long time, suddenly he threw up
his head and started laughing coldly. "Always the noble Samurai
Logan,
protecting your lady love. Always living by your code of honor. "
I growled at him. He just cackled harder. "I told you that it
was my
fault. I took advantage of her at a weak moment."
"It looked quite the other way. That just leaves me my original
question.
What do you want?" That was a very interesting question. What
did I want?
Why was I here?
"To finish this." I announced. Cyke just studied me for a
moment. I
realized one thing Scott Summers was through running, from himself, from
Jean, and from me.
"To finish this. Such simple words." I felt the temperature in
the area
drop at his words. "Do we let our monsters out tonight Logan? Do
we let
them run free? Do you think there will be anything left of us if we do
let
them out?" His words were so calm. That was an interesting
question. If I
let the beast out would I be able to put him back? I realized Scott and I
both understood something about monsters at that moment. We had both been
used and molded by them. And sometimes we got a good look at monster when
we looked unguarded in to a mirror.
"No quarter asked for." I replied. I was going to choose
the time and the
place for this fight. Here was as good as any. No one to stop
us. No one
to see what we might become with the masks off. I felt the ugly dark side
of me rise up in anticipation. I felt the slow burn behind my eyes.
My
monster was all fire his was all ice.
"None given." He responded right back at me as he pulled his
cloak back so
I could see his face. "You chose the time and the ground
Logan. That means
the opening volley is mine." With that I just caught a glimpse as
his wrist
moved. Next thing I knew I was seeing spots, and had nothing but the
smell
of sulfur up my nose.
"Flash bulb." I said out loud. Scottīs dark cloak was
lying on the ground
next to me. Sun Tzu once wrote in "The Art of War" that
choosing the ground
is one of the most important aspects of a fight. It was the difference
between defeat and victory. I thought I had done that. I was
starting to
figure I thought wrong. I hadnīt picked this ground at all. Scott
had just
let me think I had. This damp, foggy graveyard didnt give me too many
advantages. The fog damped my sense of smell as well as the distance I
could see. I didnīt do myself any favors by picking this ground.
The hunter in me rose with anticipation. All my instincts for the hunt
were starting to rise. This prey was cunning and dangerous. That
dark side
of me that I always tried to control was going to enjoy this. It was
going
to enjoy not knowing who was the hunter and who was the prey tonight.
I heard Scottīs voice echo out. I couldnt tell from
where. "How does
it feel to know you failed Peter Logan? You were the one who taught him
the
warriorīs code? How does feel to know that he killed himself. That
you as
his teacher failed him and failed him badly? How do you feel knowing the
others let him do it?"
I should have known the SOB would bring up Peter first. Scott could be a
really cold psycho sometimes. Peter was still an open wound for
me. I
felt I had failed him. Most of all I felt like the rest of the X-men
failed
him. I know he injected himself to cure the Legacy Virus. I still
was
pissed at Chuck and the rest of them. We were the ones who left him in a
room by himself, with a loaded syringe. I just didnīt think Peter would
do
it. I thought I had taught him better than that. Hell, I
thought WE had
taught him better than that.
Sun Tzu once wrote that if your opponent is quick to anger seek to irritate
him. Scott Summers could push my buttons better than anyone and he knew
it
to. Except for maybe Victor Creed. Hell, Scott even won against
Creed.
Scott had pushed Creed to a full killing rage with just words once or twice.
Scott played head games. I donīt. I never really gained a
taste for
them. I preferred hand to hand, man to man. Scott on the other hand
played
head games and played them well.
"Good try Cyke." I stated coldly "but you arenīt climbing
in to my head."
I heard his cold laughter filter out from the night "Logan Iīve been in
your
head for years. Itīs easier than you might think. The two of us are
different sides of the same coin." I was still trying to get a fix
on where
his voice was coming from. It was echoing all around me.
Two could play it this way. "How does it feel to know you were never
quite
enough for Jeannie?" Silence. Maybe I drew some blood.
"Letīs talk about being Death Logan." I heard his voice echo
out. "I know
you miss it. Killing with out the guilt, without remorse. Being
able to
let the monster loose. Part of you still hungers for it. Does Jean
know
that a little blood really turns you on? Maybe thatīs why you wonīt walk
away from the killing fields. When you look down at someone you just
killed
are you horrified or turned on?" I set my jaw. The blood thing
was my
dirty little secret.
"Does Jeannie know that when you look at a person you only see
objects?" I
fired back. "Makes it a lot easier to see friends as losses doesnīt
it." I
asked coldly. A sick part of me was starting to enjoy this. "Does
Jeannie
know the monster you hide deep inside Scott? The part of you that is so
frozen that you use the rush you get from the fight. So you can feel
anything at all? What happens when the fight isnīt enough anymore? Have
you shown that monster to her?" I heard him laugh again.
Oh yes, the monsters were out tonight. I started realizing that my vision
was changing. I was losing colors, and seeing motion. My monster
was
coming to the surface. I was starting to realize that Scott was
right. If
we let our monsters out completely, would we be able to put them back again?
The part that was scaring me was the part that wanted to let go. The
part
of me who wanted to take anotherīs monsterīs measure and damn the
consequences. What frightened me more was that I didnīt care
anymore. I
wanted it out. I wanted to let loose to taste blood.
Chuck always knew it would come to this. Scott and I are polar
opposites.
Antimatter and Matter we are pulled towards each other and then we destroy
each other. Chuck always knew if one of us turned it would be the other
that would hunt the other down. It was an unspoken pact. Chuckīs
greatest
strength had been his deep understanding of people. Chuck always
understood
Scott and me better than we knew ourselves.
"Iīm growing tired of this game Scott. Letīs finish
this." I snarled. I
was letting my monster loose and I was going to enjoy ever minute of it. I
saw a shadow move and I leaped for it.
Sun Tzu once stated that all warfare and tactics were based on deception.
Scott had always been a master. I wasnīt that surprised when the shadow I
leaped at was nothing but a decoy. He was good. Thatīs one of the
reasons
Iīve followed him in to hell and back and never thought twice about it.
"Letīs talk about Kitty and Jubes, Logan." I heard his voice
call out
again. "How does it feel to know you only let them down? You
couldnīt
protect Mariko. What makes you think you will be able to protect
them?
Tell me something. Do you have nightmares of finding only theyīre dead
bodies and entrails in the snow?"
I growled under my breath. Damn that man. "Can the crap
Scott. We finish
this tonight. Just you and me."
I heard him laugh again. "Iīm still having fun
Logan." I caught sight of
a shadow in the mist. I had him now. I leaped for it.
It was another decoy. He was on me before I knew it. I threw him
and he
landed with cat like grace on his feet. That was a new move or else he
had
never used it before in my presence. "Not bad." I
stated. "Care to try
again?"
Cyke started circling. Old īlipsī had either given him something or
brought
something out in Scott. Scott moved with a predatorīs
grace. Maybe I
just never noticed it before. My claws were itching. No claws this
was man
to man. I wouldnīt pop the claws if he didnīt use his optic beam. Scott
to
me was an unknown factor. I really didnt know how much he had absorbed
from old Lips. Scott always had the patience for a long fight that I
didnīt. My best move was to try to finish this quickly.
I pressed my advantage. I was a better hand to hand fighter as long as my
temper was under control. I have lot more experience, and more techniques
to drawn on. Scott prefers to strike from a distance if given the
choice.
I was determined to not give him the chance. So I pressed my advantage.
As Scott blocked every one of my moves, I realized I might be wrong about me
having the advantage. The old Scott had been good. The new one that came
back to us was better. I quickly found out I might not had the advantage
that I thought I did. Apparently Scott may have absorbed four thousand
years of combat experience from īOld Lipsī. I donīt under estimate
an
opponent too often. Mistakes like that can be lethal for even me.
Like I said before, I never had the patience for a long fight. This one
wore on mine faster than I would care to admit. I lost my temper and
popped
my claws. I had just upped that ante and I knew it. Scott blocked
my claws
by pulling a knife out of no where. "Good block. Roīs used it
on me
before." I stated dryly.
Scott just looked at me "I taught her that move."
We just continued to stare each other down. My monster had been bottled
to
long and it was demanding to be released. My vision went red. I was
losing
to the beast.
"Go ahead Logan let it out." Scott whispered. "You
have been wanting to
do it for years. How good did it feel to pop your claws through Victor
Creedīs head?"
I just snarled at him. I know if I could have looked in to Scott Summersī
eyes at this moment I would have seen the true essence of his monster. I
know if that I looked in to his eyes at this very moment I would see the
void.
I leaped for him. I didnīt care anymore. My monster was out and I
had no
intention of stopping it from claiming the blood it so desperately wanted.
When I leaped for him, I caught him in the center of the chest. We both
went tumbling. It was a tombstone that stopped our tumble. I
was looking
down at him snarling. I was going to enjoy this.
Thatīs when I realized we were at a complete draw. I saw the
dagger. If I
popped my claws through him, Scott was going to stick his dagger through my
eye with his last dying breath. I would survive it but I would never be
the
same person. Even my healing factor had its limits when it came to nerve
pathways. It would most likely wipe my memory clean. I would be a
blank
slate again something I had vowed never to be again. "Go ahead
Logan." Scott
whispered "Pop your claws through me. Itīs what you want to do
isnīt?
Which is more important to you? Making me bleed or holding on to who you
are now?" I snarled down at him. Thatīs when I made my fatal
mistake. I
hesitated.
Next thing I knew I was looking up at Scott Summerīs face and watching the
dagger he had right above my eye. I honestly thought he was going to do
it.
I honestly thought he would stick that dagger right through my
eye. If I
was going down he was coming with me. I could still pop my claws right
through him.
Right then something on the tombstone caught Scottīs attention though and he
hesitated. Scott just looked down at me and whispered, "Weīre
more than
just our monsters Logan. She taught us that." With those words
he threw
the dagger down so it embedded in the earth right by my head. He then got
off of me and helped me up. With those words still hanging in the air,
Scott just walked away.
Thatīs when I read the name on the tombstone that had pulled back us both
back from the edge of the abyss. The name on the tombstone we had tumbled
in too was Jean Grey.