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Beloved Enemy	By : AmandaJean Category: X-men Comics > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2688 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, Nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Part II Chapter 4
Wolverine crouched on top of a building that gave him the perfect area to watch his prey. No his target. He was clad in his typical X-Force black uniform and hidden in the shadows of a generator room strategically placed. It allowed him to be hidden. On the ground in front of him was the folder, he wasn’t supposed to bring the folder with him. But he did, and he didn’t care who found it. In fact, Wolverine found these days there were fewer things he cared about and Wolverine hated that.
Melita left him this morning, she couldn’t do it anymore and the bruises on her throat were a stark reminder why. Weak… No. It was his fault. He slipped up, no question about that. He told her he didn’t mean to. He really didn’t mean to, yet found himself getting angry at her and lashing out. He was absentmindedly glad his claws didn’t come out to be used in the unfortunate situation.
Snarling slightly he watched her wonder from her bathroom to the bed that was within his view, only a towel protecting her modesty and left nothing to imagination. Clenching his jaw and his eyes closed Wolverine hated the confliction he was suffering from. He decided on a quick death. But that darker part that he was suffering from and Sabretooth preyed on told him to play with her.
Let go. It said.
Wolverine didn’t want to, not yet. Not yet. He couldn’t let go. Like a second nature Wolverine gripped the nose of the hood that hid over half his face and head, he pulled it over and becoming nearly unrecognizable to those who didn’t know him personally. They wouldn’t eve suspect that he was Wolverine; Wolverine wore bright colors and stuck out. Nobody really knew about X-Force and Wolverine’s shift in uniforms. Only Cyclops and possibly Nick Fury and his contacts, but Wolverine could care less. Wolverine watched her as she dropped the towel, unknowingly presenting herself to her soon to be killer.
With a nasty grin that shouldn’t be his, Wolverine plotted his path and used the back of his hand to wipe away the grin that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. The lights went off. Wolverine backed up to the edge of the building he was on and sprinted towards the edge, and leapt to the neighboring building. Luckily it was close enough for him to make it across and easy enough for him to break his landing with a couple of rolls for extra measure.
He was to his feet quickly and listening. Two people came up the stairs. Wolverine ducked against the part of the building that was there for that door and stairs. A good place to go smoking that was away from the bustling world below. Wolverine perked up as they exited the building, setting a simple wooden doorstopper between the door and the doorframe in order for them to be able to re-enter. Wolverine let a small nasty grin escape him at that.
“Did you hear, they’re considering passing the bill that would order mutants to register and participate in annual check ups by designated doctors.”
“Ya, it’s about time if you ask me. Can’t have those muties running wild, no question on what they’re capable of. After all, did you see the history on the brotherhood and some of the other mutie’s made public.”
“Tell me about it, gave me nightmares. I mean a guy who can control metal, scary shit.”
Wolverine listened to the exchange with an increasingly growing frown. These idiots know nothing! But if they wanted to see something they should be scared of, a mutie they should fear. Well, they’re going to get their wish! Edging himself closer to them, Wolverine made sure to not make a single noise. When he was close enough to the point where he could practically taste their scents Wolverine sprung.
He caught the first man who was taller than him, but far scrawnier. Snapping his neck Wolverine grinned nastily. The second one made a grab for the door; Wolverine put a hand on the door to keep it shut. So the man pulled a weapon out. A gun that Wolverine immediately recognized as an all black Colt M1911 Pistol.
“Lemme guess, a colt m1911 pistol. Single and semi-automatic magazine-fed and recoil-operated handgun chambered for the .45 ACP cartridge. Right?” Wolverine growled out, letting his claws slide out for extra show. Wolverine grinned showing off his teeth in a nasty expression. This part was normal for him at least. Something Wolverine’s own darkness didn’t have a hand in. Not yet anyway.
“Ya, and I know how to use it!” The man declared causing Wolverine’s grin widened as he stood up straighter knowing that his height wouldn’t put the man off as much as his appearance could. He was only a modest five foot three, hence, why he was called a runt by Sabretooth.
“’at so?” Wolverine hummed right before he lunged, his reaction time allowed him to sever the man’s hand with one set of claws before plunging his second set into the man’s chest cavity. Wolverine picked up the shuttered breath and hiss of air escaping the lungs as Wolverine withdrew his claws. The man collapsed and struggled on the ground. Not dead yet. Wolverine frowned at that, he shouldn’t have missed on purpose so then why did he strike somewhere where he knew his claws wouldn’t instantly kill right away. But it was a sure death. A painful one. The man was going to drown without water present.
This was his fault too.
Wolverines made a move to kill the man without letting him suffer more, but strangely found himself pushing the man aside and entering the building instead. Silently closing the door fully behind him and leaving the man to die alone and in pain. This part was odd for him, for the most part. He rarely lets someone’s life end like that, he couldn’t remember a time when he allowed someone to die painfully like that in a long time. Not when he turned good and thinking he was in control of his own life.
He wasn’t.
But Wolverine wasn’t going to dwell about that at the moment. Instead, he descended the dark stairs silently and only breathing lightly so he wouldn’t risk the chance of giving himself away. His claws already put away so they didn’t reflect light. Sniffing the air he stopped, three people passed him. They were dispatched quickly and silently, bodies set in the storage closet. Eight scents in total, male. Five down. Two left to go. And a more feminine scent, his target. Wolverine’s mouth watered.
Why? Why? Why did his darkness, his more hidden natures decide now was the time to come out? After all this time, even when he was under Romulus’s control he may have done cruel things, but that was under someone else’s order and not free will. That was why this time it was different. He was under freewill. Wasn’t he? Words entered the forefront of his thoughts, words spoken by Sabretooth himself during their first altercation that seemed to have been the first domino to be pushed down. Somehow.
“There ain’t no denyin’ it now runt. There’s darkness in you, the same that’s in me. An’ ya can’t fight it anymore, can ya? Yer X-Buddies ain’t really helpin’ you now, ‘re they?”
No. They weren’t. If they were, they would have stopped Wolverine by now. Saved him. Perhaps it wasn’t too late? Perhaps it was far too late. But that didn’t change the fact that they weren’t helping his situation by giving him orders like this. Wolverine swallowed an enraged snarl, which hurts more than it should have. He knew it was partially childish to feel angry with them for not seeing, not stopping this. Not all of them knew. Hell probably none of them really knew. All too busy with the world’s shit to be concerned for one of their own.
Wolverine shook his head savagely before shoving everything away and lunging toward the first guard at the prey’s door.
~ Melita’s Rare Appearance ~
She couldn’t believe any of this happened. She didn’t want to believe it! Blowing her nose for what felt like the hundredth time in the past two hours. Her nose she just knew was red and sore, her eyes were more than likely puffy and red as well. She was sobbing as her heart shattered. She always viewed herself as tough, not a girl who cried easily or for anyone. Throughout her teenage years she didn’t cry for boyfriends who broke up with her or her breaking up on them. Even when she was an adult and a young reporter just out of university, she didn’t cry much. The few times she did cry were for funerals and family trauma.
But she never cried over a man.
And now here she was crying her little heart out over a man who was dangerous and too alluring to be normal. Of course in the start he warned her, told her his story and she saw his history through research and snapshots of a Wildman. Alarm bells should have sounded than. Not from him being the threat, as foolish as that sounded, but from his past and his enemies and the governments that might still want a relic from a part of history most would rather just cover up and act as though it didn’t occur. Not including the one time that somehow brought her in to contact with the short-tempered wild haired man, her greatest story written. That was a selfish ploy for money using technology that should have been dropped into the deepest hole to be never seen again.
Those alarm bells never sounded, and she fell in love with this shady little man who was snarky and witty with a bad attitude. She was more than willing to look past the fact that at times he did stink, he was an alcoholic and he loved his fights. But he never got drunk and he tried his hardest to never bring the fight home with him.
Until the past several months that turned out to feel like years.
It started with him snarling at her, a snarl she never saw directed towards her before. He instantly blanched at what he did and backed off. He looked ashamed and disgusted with himself. She was hoping that was a one-time thing. It wasn’t. But foolishly she stuck around. Things got worse as time went by. With verbal fights, punching the wall next to her head and then finally laying hands on her. She stopped calling him Logan, hoping that would catch his attention. It did, but not in the way she was hoping.
He got angrier with her. Even tried to make her say his name. Got in her face, yelled and even grabbed her arms in a tight unforgiving grip. She should have left than, but she didn’t. It wasn’t until this last incident. It started with an argument over his name and her cooling affections, but it ended with her being sat on which cracked a couple ribs under his weight and she was being choked. Rage was the only thing written on his face. Only rage and nothing else.
She was grateful he didn’t just kill her.
So she wrote a note and got out of there as quick as she could. She didn’t tell him where she went, but knew if he truly wanted to, he could simply hunt her down. Easily. He was the best of the best; she knew that to be a fact. And she couldn’t deny it either. Using her sleeve she whipped away the last of her tears as she stood up and wondered to the small fridge in the hotel room she stayed. Right now she would rather stay in a popular and busy hotel that was out in the open and not where Logan would consider going, he wasn’t the most sociable person and she knows him to be someone who would more than likely stay up all night when traveling or find an out of the way spot to sleep. She knows because he told her once.
Taking out a bottle of water and setting the cap on the counter she was about to take a drink when loud knocking made her jump. She nearly dropped the water and cursed her own skittish behavior. She never acted this way before in her life. But her instincts were causing her to have the fight or flight sensations. More likely the flight.
“Hello?” Melita asked through the door, putting the chain on so if she opened the door, it wouldn’t open all the way even when pushed on.
“Package delivery.” A definitely male voice said, the man sounded like he was big and there was almost a rumbling sound in it. Her reporting instincts helped Melita pick up things like that; it served her best when she was fishing for a story. She peered through the peephole and only saw a box with her name on it and the logo from the USPS Company. She remembered that had some books redirected to this hotel. And the male was too tall for her ex-boyfriend who was shorter than she was.
She made the mistake of opening the door fully.
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Beloved Enemy