Part Four

Jubilee gripped her wrists, feeling the little imperfect scars that trailed her veins as if in a game of tag. Sighing miserably, she stopped her fight, feeling Logan's arms holding onto her as tears dripped onto his pants.

"You've got Kitty now..." was all she said, repeating it as if it was a life line. It was almost silent, quiet as it was, but Logan delicate ears picked it up, his heart breaking as he heard her whisper it over and over, rocking a bit and rubbing her wrists harshly. Her breaths drew in ragged and shallow, rasping as they caught in her throat. Her ribs expanded and Logan heard the weakest cracks as they moved with each breath as though in a rhythm. "You've got Kitty now..."

Logan had to break the silence. Stir crazy as he was in this small room, it was worse to hear her unknowingly accusing him of not wanting her. He'd known she'd been in bad shape after Operation: Zero Tolerance; he'd told Cyclops when they'd first walked through the desert away from the Hulkbuster base and towards the X-Men. But Kitty had been having a hard time with her break-up with Pete and when she'd turned to him for help, he dived in, making any excuses to not talk to Jubilee, to not find out what happened while she was with Bastion. He'd been scared, and now he would pay for it. But the mantra Jubilee spoke now would surely drive him mad if he didn't stop it.

"Darlin'?" Logan tucked a hand under Jubilee's chin and lifted her head, looking at her tear stained face with the dull, drained eyes. A skeleton stared back at him, cheek bones drawn in and black circles marking her experiences. Limp hair fell against his hand and the purple and blue bruise splattered across her cheek like a painting. "Yesterday...why'd ya ask me if the scientist's hands were cold?"

"I dunno." she wrenched her head away from him, looking down again. Logan gently pulled her into his lap, her head cradled against his shoulder softly. She still rubbed at her wrists, her eyes sparkling with tears like stars in the sky. The tone in her voice changed and Logan knew she was lying, the stench of fear permeating his senses. "Just a question I guess..."

"What'd they do t'ya in the base J?"

"Y'know...starving me...beatings..." she mumbled as she picked her brain for the pieces of knowledge she had let them know. Logan shook his head as the stench grew stronger, filling his brain.

"What else darlin'?"

"Experiments." she whispered, rubbing her wrists harder. "Horrible..."

"What'd they do Jubes?"

"They tested on me mostly ... and they gave me so many drugs that sometimes they'd hafta pump my stomach out after. I would fight back and try t' be strong like ya told me, but they beat me back."

"Is that why you cut yer wrists?"

"I cut my wrists with a rock ... after the third test and they ... put me in a straight jacket so I would couldn't try it again. Their hands were cold. They cut my hair off...and they..." she mumbled off, scared to admit to anything further than the experiments and beatings. "They didn't actually starve me ... I threw up any food they gave me 'cause I was so sick from the pumping and drugs."

She felt relief at pouring the story out to someone she could trust, someone who loved her. But her face hardened slightly as a voice in her head said that he hadn't been there, he didn't love her because he hadn't tried to save her at all.

"Why didn't ya tell anyone?" he whispered near her ear, saddened at her past lack of trust. He'd thought that Bastion was disgusting for trying the mass-murder and imprisonment of mutants before he'd even met him and now he felt even worse, knowing he had harmed Jubilee so badly and hadn't paid for it.

"I'm scared." she whispered quietly, staring at the silver disk of a moon through the nearby window. Logan hugged her carefully and kissed her forehead. Jubilee closed her eyes, wrists glowing crimson with the rubbing, and cried against his shoulder, her back and ribs aching as her cuts moved with the inhalation of each heavy breath.

(Written by Nova Zion)

* * * *

"Please..."

Logan snapped awake from his position on the small, shabby couch that had been his bed for the past few nights. It was uncomfortable, too small with a spring trying to pierce his back every time he shifted, but he hardly noticed. He would have slept on a bed of nails if it would have done anything for the bruised seraph that occupied his room. And that had just whispered a desperate plea in her haunted slumber.

The blinds clicked softly against the windowpane as the breeze picked up through the open window, and somewhere a lamp flickered, buzzing loudly. Standing to check on his young charge, he slid the window shut, then knelt beside the bed, gazing through the shroud of darkness at her battered and bandaged face. A look of pain crossed her delicate features and a tear slid silently down her rose petal cheek as she breathed, "No..."

Reaching over to flick on the bedside lamp, Logan smoothed the feathery tresses from his little girl's drawn face, calling softly, "Jubilation."

Her blue eyes flew open in terror, and she lifted her hands to defend herself, but her mentor caught them, gently curling them into fists in his large palms before any drastic measures were taken. Sweat dripped from her hairline and into her almond-shaped eyes as they focused on his face and recognition flittered through their glassy depths. Falling back against her pillow, she lay trembling and weeping, too exhausted -- mentally, physically, emotionally -- to speak. Logan wanted to hold her, but dared not as she was in such a delicate state. He released her hands and instead brushed her ebony locks from her damp forehead, his touch gentle, each movement speaking volumes of his love for her.

"I-I-I ... I didn't ... I didn't tell ya ... everythin', Wolvie," Jubilee hiccupped once she had gathered her strength. "Th-there ... there's more." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading for him to ask her to go on, and it took everything he had to comply.

"What'd they ... do t'ya, J?" he choked, wishing he did not have to hear.

"Th-th-there was ... was an ... an o-operation. Th-they ... I ..." She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut and, with her one good hand, pushed her covers to her hips and drew her nightshirt up to her taped ribs. There, on the tender, pale flesh just below and to either side of her bellybutton, Logan's keen eyesight picked out two pink scars, each about an inch in length. And for the first time that he could remember, the Canadian felt bile rising in his throat. Pushing it away, he turned his gaze to her taut face.

"Th-they were ... t-t-tryin' ta b-break my s-spirit. B-B-Bastion said h-he didn't ... didn't wanna b-be responsible fer ... fer any ... any m-more a m-m-my k-kind bein' born. Th-th-they ... so cold ...." She stopped, staring at the ceiling, her lips curling in a silent sob. "Th-they ... they took ... I can't ... I'll never be a mom."

She looked at him and shook her head just barely, her voice dropping to but a breath as she went on. "Then they ... Bastion watched as they ... they all got a turn ... a-an' it was like I ... an' all I could ... could think was ... was 'Wolvie'll save me.'"

(Written by Dana Night)