Human After All
Chapter 1
by
Tyna & Utendi
DISCLAIMER: Marvel owns all the characters. No money was made from this corroboration. Thanks to Utendi for this story idea and her endless patience when I was slow with my chapters. There would be no story if it weren't for her.
NOTE: Anything phrases or sentences bordered by an asterix indicates a character is using internal dialogue. The segment author's name is in parenthesis and begins each segment. If you want to archive this story, feel free. Above all else; ENJOY!
(Tyna)
Hot, cold, hot, cold. His body couldn't decide.
Anything he touched felt so cold that he shivered constantly, but when he tucked himself into a blanket, moments later he was tossing it across the room as far as his failing strength let him.
More chills raced from head to toe. Muttering under his breath, Logan dragged himself off his cot and bent to retrieve the cast-away blanket. Suddenly, the cave started to spin. Unprepared for the nausea, he fell to the ground and curled into a ball. Caught between nausea and exhaustion he passed out, vaguely aware that no one knew where he was, no one would be coming to the rescue.
******
"So what you're trying to say, Hank, is that he's...sick?"
Jubilee couldn't believe her ears. Logan NEVER got sick. His healing factor simply didn't allow it. Even without her college degree in mutant biochemistry, she knew it just wasn't possible.
"My dear child," he reminded her. "I, unlike you, have been in this field much longer. I've seen chemical compounds that astound me even to this day. Sinister is a mutant genius, especially in the field of genetics and biochemistry, and delights in creating controlled chaos, if you will. Do not underestimate him!"
Stunned by this rather emotional tirade, Jubilee simply stared at the blue furred doctor, his back now to her. She hadn't meant to insult him, but her growing concern for Logan had colored her reaction.
*Wolvie, where are you?* Frantically she tried to recall the last time she had seen him.
"Jubilee..." Hank paused to shove a small amount of pills into a bottle. He knew what Logan meant to her and wanted to reassure the poor thing. "His healing factor has been tampered with. However, the effect is not permanent. In time it will counteract any sickness, like always. In the meantime he'll need..."
Hank turned around to give Jubilee a bottle of antibiotics, but faced an empty room instead. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. *It figures,* he thought, placing the bottle in a small Velcro sealed bag and rushed out of medlab after her.
(Utendi)
*The girl can be just as impulsive as Logan himself...*
He nabbed the bag in his teeth, dropping to all fours and galloping after her on soles and knuckles. The gallumphing gait was not the most graceful way to travel, but he caught up with her in only a few lurching strides, reaching out to snag her wrist so that she might actually listen to what he had to say.
"JuBIlee," he stressed again, hauling her to a stop. The girl's eyes were wide and wet with concern; her expression already tense with the frustration she must be feeling. McCoy's larger hands unfurled towards hers, peeled open her fingers and placed the bag inside.
She warned, though nervously, "Don't try to stop me. Logan is out there, and he needs me, and I..."
His grip upon her wrist became firm, and though gentle, still conveyed the seriousness of the moment. It quieted her, at least.
"I wouldn't waste my time on such an obviously fruitless pursuit... But please, Jubilation, be careful. You know the places that Logan secretes himself when he wishes to be alone--and they are not always the most choice."
"I'll be careful," she said, but more softly, rolling the bag up and tucking it under her belt. She felt the blue X-Man's eyes roving over her before his clawed hand came up to stroke his chin.
"Perhaps I should come with--"
"No! I can do it myself... Please!"
Already the girl was backing away, the bright yellow of her duster seeming to gleam with a neon luminescence in the evening dimness of the mansion corridor. McCoy sighed, dropping down again so that his forward weight rested on his sturdy knuckles. Not only impulsive, but hardheaded as well. Wolverine had indeed taught the girl very well.
"Just be careful, Jubilation. We don't need two missing X-Men. And dress warmly!"
"You won't tell the others?" By now she had retreated to the door, snatching her scarf from the steerhead-turned-coatrack looming in the corner. The whites of her eyes were brilliant, hopeful. Even in full adulthood, she had the appealing innocence of the same little girl he had argued with, years ago.
"You have twelve hours, Jubilation. If neither of you have returned by then, I simply must tell the others. You understand..."
Jubilee wasn't happy about it, but she nodded, deciding that twelve hours was certainly better than nothing. In any case, it would give her enough time to cram her backpack full of whatever she would need (just what DID one take, when hunting for a sick mutant?) and head out on his trail. Better to be off now, before it grew too cold... The girl turned swiftly, slicker snapping lightly as a gust of wet air from outside curled it up around her waist.
Hank McCoy watched until the door swung heavily shut at Jubilee's back, then hung his head, shaking it pendulously back and forth.
"...God Speed, my dear. Don't make me regret letting you go..."
Three cans of chunky soup, a blanket, thermometer, a box of tissues and a box of herbal tea hadn't sounded heavy, when she'd made the mental inventory. Three hours later, however, with the woods crowding all around her like mobs of angry scarecrows, Jubilee wondered if she might have accidentally crammed a couple of fifty-pound barbells into her backpack without realizing it.
Stooped over, protected from the wind and rain by a yellow slicker, Jubilee trooped across the mushy forest floor, marveling that Professor Xavier or someone else had not thought to put up markers, or some other navigational assistants. If she didn't find Wolverine soon, she too would more than likely be completely lost, and would have to wait for someone to find her.
*Now wouldn't that just be too humiliating for words*
"Logan!" she called out, squinting up towards the pine boughs as they reached, stretching, for the heavens. The rain was rendered in sharp perspective, falling in long blades towards her, splattering across the end of her nose and chin. Jubilee palmed the dampness from her face, adjusted her two-hundred-pound backpack, and then went back to her inexperienced tracking.
She was actually surprised she'd made it this far; a quick check of the garage had verified that his scoot' was still in place, untouched... meaning that he'd either hitchhiked into town and beyond, or trekked off somewhere by foot. Hitchhiking would have been the route of choice had she not noticed a few deep, ribbed footprints in the mud leading away from the stables. They'd led her a few yards, slushy and loose, before vanishing across some gravel, and then once again reappearing near the foot of the woods.
With her direction decided, Jubilee had set off on foot through the trees, imagining herself the expert huntress. The rain, although it still managed to drip through the canopy of pines, was lesser on the forest floor, and had not completely dissolved Logan's footprints. For the first two hours she'd had good luck spotting them in the needled carpet underfoot, or painted in muddy relief on a rock that he'd briefly used for leverage. Now, however, the pickings were slim... she'd seen neither claw nor hide of him in an hour, and things were beginning to look desperate.
"WOLVIE?!?", she howled, surprised at just how desperate her own voice sounded. It was hopeless... she'd never find him. He was probably miles away from here and in the total opposite direction, and--and there was a light in the forest.
Picking her head up, suddenly inspired by delight, Jubilee fairly leapt over a fallen tree in her path, and cleared the remainder of the distance with long, coltish strides. Sliding in the loose layers of earth and pine needles underfoot, she skidded to a halt, just before running into the half-buried mouth of what appeared to be a bear's den, or cave. Except...bears didn't usually carry around lamps, which is what seemed to be the source of the flickering, golden glow.
Lowering herself to her knees, grimacing at the slimy feel of the mud beneath them, Jubilee crawled through the damp opening, and dropped down to the floor of the makeshift shelter. She could hear movement up ahead, where the light was brighter, and saw angular shadows occasionally lashing the walls. She approached them more timidly than before.
"...Wolvie?"
(Tyna)
Fear nearly stopped her heart. It sounded like someone or something was attacking him. Then she heard his unmistakable roar, just before her Wolvie stumbled into view, definitely a sight for sore eyes.
Well, sort of.
His roar ended in a fit of coughing. Sweat glistened on his flush skin and slicked down his hair. Claws fully extended, he sliced away at invisible assailants. Blood flew with each gesture from the wounds, which were usually closed the instant he unsheathed the claws. His coordination gone, the last swipe overbalanced him and sent him barreling towards Jubilee.
Instinct took over. Jubilee leapt up and, using Logan's shoulders for leverage, vaulted onto his back. He roared again, the sound vibrating every bone in her body.
"Logan please... it's me. Please stop. No one's hurting you!" She clung to his hot skin while he bucked and spun. She was getting nowhere; words weren't working.
A thought dawned on her. The sickness had reduced him to an animal level no longer kept hidden. Jubilee tightened her grip on his waist with her legs and locked ankles. She pressed closer to his body, bringing her throat near to his ear, and thrummed.
The noise cut through his fevered mind. It chased away the demons and calmed his frantic heartbeat. He paused to respond with his own bass rumble. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, as his adrenaline based strength fled. Spent, Logan slumped, face first to the ground.
Jubilee thrummed until he passed out completely. Carefully she pulled her arms and legs out from under him and backtracked to the shelter's entrance. Weak from her hours of tracking, she dragged her backpack inside.
She was so tired. Unconscious, he was dead weight, challenging her strung-out body as she maneuvered him back onto the cot and nearly skewered herself on one of his claws.
*What the...they didn't retract,* Jubilee thought, sucking on her pricked finger and grimaced. Flatly metallic, blood wasn't high on her list of things to eat. She spat it out and resisted the temptation to lose what little lunch she had in her stomach.
Gingerly she touched the back of his hand and ran her fingers up and down his forearm. Minutes into the massage, Jubilee wasn't sure this was going to work. She also was glad he was out of it: her feelings were beginning to translate through her fingers. A slight snikt interrupted her musings, at last, as his muscles retracted the claws into sheathes housed within his forearms. *Finally, now for the other side... The blood, it's flowing faster!*
Blessed adrenaline gave her a second wind, flooding Jubilee with strength. She hurried to retract the other side cursing for not thinking straight when she had packed. She hadn't thought to bring a first aid kit, and so now scoured the shelter. Relief ran through her like wild fire. There, under a smashed table, lay Wolverine's backpack. It had fallen open, knocked over during their brief tussle. Fishing wire and hooks, a canteen, and other useful items littered the floor, including Logan's comm-unit.
*****
"Ouch!" Grumbling loudly, Jubilee poked her already wounded finger for the third time and hoped his healing factor would kick in soon. "Wolvie, yer gonna be mad if this fishing gut leaves a scar," she muttered under her breath and paffed the next fishhook to sterilize it.
After completing the last stitch she held both sets of knuckles in her palms. Eyes shut she struggled to filter out all external stimuli and tapped into the finest control of her powers. With slow, precise detonations, Jubilee in effect cauterized the wounds.
As an afterthought Jubilee checked the rest of his body for any wounds. She shredded the cleanest part of the blanket she'd brought, wrapped his hands and used the rest to mop sweat from his face and neck.
Lighting flashed outside, followed by a crash of thunder. Rain beat down in great torrents on the granite roof of the cave. Steadily she could hear the wind's speed increase until it was howling much like the sleeping man next to her use to. A draft blew in. Even with her slicker she was cold.
From under the cot, Jubilee retrieved Logan's blanket and shook it out, tucking him in as best she could. Suddenly her strength snapped. *Damn adrenaline rushes, they never last long,* she thought, but had to do one last thing. She lay down next to Logan, her back to him, and tapped the comm-unit now strapped to her wrist. Beast's voice replaced the faint hum of an established connection.
"Oh my stars and garters. Jubilee, is everything all right? Did you find Logan? Where are you? When are you coming home? Well, why don't you say something...?"
"She will if you let her," Jubilee heard Scott in the background, and groaned inwardly. *I'm gonna kill ya, Blue* he promised to herself. Out loud, Jubilee answered each question in turn.
"Yes everything's okay, yes I found him...he's very sick, I don't want to say, and we'll be home when a) this storm passes and b) he's well enough to move on his own...do you know how much he weighs?" Her voice grew softer as blackness started to close in on her.
"Look guys, I promise to call every day, and I'll even fill in the details when we get home. Right now, I want to sleep." She didn't wait for an answer, just shut off the comm-unit. Lulled by his warmth and the storm raging outside, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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