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Weapon X: Man or Animal	By : AmandaJean Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > General Views: 1911 -:- 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
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 14
Doctor Hank McCoy always prided himself with being a very intellectual individual, logical. It wasn’t that he preferred logic over emotions; you can’t be a proper person with just logic or just emotions after all. So he embraced both as good as he could. Unfortunately his own emotions made him feel shame for mutations that aren’t exactly easy to hide unless you’re wearing a confining shoe. Alex teased him about it plenty of times, going so far as to call him bozo. His kid crush on Raven was short due to her changing views and his self-hatred for his own mutation. It could have been beautiful.
Of course his own attempts to look like everyone else backfired, guess he should have been happy with himself in the first place. Now he has blue skin and fur as a reminder of accepting oneself and don’t inject yourself with untested chemicals. Needlessly said, he now couldn’t walk out in public like he used to be able to. But he was happy nonetheless. He came back to his roots, and those he felt were here. At Charles’s school. Most students do come back eventually. Alex has yet to come back, but he blamed that on Scott to a point. Still, brothers will be brothers no doubt.
Now with the blue skin and fur came emotions and instincts he’s never had to deal with before. Faintly he wondered if this was what their resident grouch has to deal with, and Hank wondered if his older brother Victor Creed had to deal with the same thing? But one embraced it and one denied it. And, despite not knowing Logan for long, the guy seemed to be in control of those emotions and instincts well enough. 'I cannot help, but wonder how Logan would react to what’s happening right now… His total lack of control of those emotions and instincts.' Hank thought to himself as he eyed the struggling man in the restraining wheelchair.
Guilt swam swelled up in Hank; he hated having to do this. But there was no other way to get the man to come and to understand that they weren’t going to harm him or anything. So Hank had no choice, but to quietly let him fume and struggle against restraints that looked like they were starting to cut into flesh. Peter had to rush ahead; Jean was called down to tend to his injuries. Which left Scott and Kurt to tend to not only Victor, but Laura as well on their own. He hoped that they wouldn’t have too much to deal with up there. Hank didn’t know how either would react to the situations that were going on down here. How they would react to what’s happening to Logan.
“My friend, what will it take to have you understand that we are not here to hurt you.” Hank murmured to a raging feral Logan who didn’t stop long enough to hear Hank’s guilt filled words.
The second they entered the infirmary he wheeled Logan over to a smaller room attached to it. Within it was a machine he built with Charles’s help. It was like cerebro, but built to sharpen and strengthen Charles’s focus on one mind. Two helmets were attached to a machine the size of a vending machine. Screens were there to show any changes to either Charles or in this case Logan. There was no way for others to see what was going on in either mind. This wasn’t the cursed Reifying Encephalographic Monitor after all. Yes Hank knew all about that thing. It was a torturous invention, despite the so-called safety protocols put in place to ensure that it wouldn’t be used to brainwash and alter memories.
Hank barely noticed that Logan stilled at the sight of the machine.
~ Man ~ Weapon ~ Animal ~
Charles was already waiting when Hank rolled Logan into the room, he was already aware of the trouble the struggling man put up. Saw proof of that on Peter’s shoulder as three gashes were created. Poor Peter was in pain, but Charles was proud that not once did the large young man hold any grudge for it. Charles turned the machine on, and tried to ignore the restart of growls coming from the only other person in a wheelchair in this room.
“Thank you Hank, if you could be so kind as to hook him up for me. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it myself with how he’s struggling at the moment.” Charles calmly said, holding his own helmet delicately in his hands and watched as Hank only nodded while pushing Logan in position and locking the chair in place. It was originally from this room, used for unruly people who needed this sort of treatment. Most students and X-Men weren’t entirely sure of this room. They knew it existed, but never dared to truly understand what it was for or what was in it. Charles was afraid that this would either nearly or completely destroy the bond he had with his students.
He could sense the guilt and concern rolling off of Hank in thick waves. The fur covering Hank’s body that wasn’t covered by clothes was completely flattened. Hank left soon after. Charles turned his attention to Logan who was growling and glaring accusing looks. It was a shame that Logan assumed the worse, but understandable nonetheless.
“I’m doing this for your own good. To help you.” Charles said as he put the helmet on, they both were attached to the machine now and Charles could feel his mind already trying to touch Logan’s. There was a lot of damage and REM modifications standing in the way though.
“I want you to hear what I’m about to do…” Charles calmly stated before speaking right into Logan’s mind, ‘…I’m going to be entering your mind, by force unfortunately. This means, you will feel pain, but it won’t be completely physical, despite how it might seem to be that way. It won’t be a pleasurable experience I’m afraid, you will try to fight me. I have to ask you not to. If you’re in there at all Logan. Do not fight me. This is for your own good.’
“I’m sorry for this.” Charles quietly said silently thanking the fact that the room is sound proof. With everything said Charles closed his eyes and pushed.
~ Logan’s MIND Part I ~
Charles was aware that he made Logan scream bloody murder because of the intense pain focused on his mind. Normally Charles could get into people’s minds without them feeling it, and if they did it would have been as light as a feather. But a mind as damaged as this one and with as much tampering as this mind had done. It couldn’t be helped unfortunately.
Opening his eyes he found himself sitting in a normal chair, old looking. The room looked old to be one found in this age. Looking around faintly he noticed a bed, blankets thrown aside. It looked like someone jumped out of bed, someone small. A child perhaps. A chair was near the fireplace, odd sight to see in what he’s starting to assume to be a child’s room. It looked old, as did the chair and the few toys Charles spotted. There were odd fingernails on the floor next to the chair.
The whole room seemed to give a slight barely audible groaning noise, not human or animal. The kind a building gives when stressed. It seemed like there was a lot pushing against this room. And he wasn’t entirely sure why he appeared here. He will have to describe the room to Victor; he probably knew more than Charles did when it came to this room.
Touching the doorknob Charles instantly pulled his hand back, looking at his hand. It felt like it burned, like hot liquid rather than fire. Looking at his hand it was covered with blood. Frowning he looked at the doorknob for a moment, it looked fine. Normal and safe. Looking back at his hand it didn’t have a trace of blood on it. Attentively touching the doorknob for a second time he noticed it didn’t burn or shock him in any way. It just didn’t turn.
“Logan, I must say even your mind is stubborn.” Charles muttered to himself as he focused his mind even more, not aware of the growling happening outside the mind. Even though he was barely conscious due to the exploration being done to his mind, Logan was snarling. It was normal at times.
Meanwhile Charles decided to approach a window that was covered with dark liquid that wasn’t running, but staying still just as though it was an undisturbed pond. Steeling himself he approached it, carefully touching it only to pull his finger back. It felt warm, like body heat. And looking at his finger it was dripping with blood. Charles looked far from amused. If this was what a child’s room was like in his mind. Charles dreaded going deeper. But he had to. Whipping the blood on his pants he set his fingers to his temple and approached the door once more.
It felt like hours, but in fact was minutes. Charles managed to pull the door open, gaining access to the rest of Logan’s mind. Working carefully he stepped out into an old hallway, but it was obvious that the place was decaying from age. The paint was fading; dust was rampant as was cobwebs. Wood was chipped, splintered and the railing he approached was no longer there. Looking down below he saw skeletons dressed in old clothing not from this time. Understandable considering how old Logan was.
The entire place looked like it was falling apart and that the local wildlife has long since moved in. He knew though that, despite appearing here and the significance of this place. Logan did not know this place; if he did Charles would be feeling familiar with it rather, then cautious, uncertain and curious. Charles felt like he didn’t know this place at all, it was foreign. And for Charles that was an accurate thing. For Logan on the other hand, it was not something that was supposed to be.
Taking a deep breath he approached the front door, dread set heavily. Dread, hurt, anger, love, pain, betrayal, satisfaction, morbid satisfaction, sadistic glee, guilt and crushing rage. Nowhere could he sense anything close to calmness. He didn’t get the feeling of being safe and secure. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was using the doorframe to steady himself as he stood unsteadily on suddenly weak legs. He was panting in exertion from the blow of feeling all of those emotions at once.
“Easy now Charles, you have to be strong to get through this. I know it’s strong, the emotions and instincts bearing down on you. But for Logan you have to take it…” Charles said to himself, one last prep talk before he entered the wilderness you could say. And the horrors that lie in every shadow and behind every corner. Right now everything looked like a forest and grounds of a rather rich estate.
But he knew better than most that you can’t trust your eyes in someone’s mind. It was deceiving. Just like a labyrinth with dead ends and corners that tricked you every step you make. This wasn’t going to be a stroll in the park. Looking up in the sky it looked like stormy weather, but instead of the sounds of thunder and lightning it sounded more like tanks and gunshots.
With a deep breath he steeled himself further and took his first step outside the house, the second he was outside he no longer could see the house. Just the entrance with doors that looked like they could fall off of their hinges at the first gust of wind. Any of the emotions that he initially felt didn’t let up.
'Pain!
What have you done to me!'
Charles frowned; he recognized that voice as Logan’s right away. But there was an angry and feral edge to those words that made them come out as more of a growl than what Logan could normally sound like, and the man was gruff as it was. Even going so far as coming across as illiterate and ill-spoken, but Charles knew better saw sharp intelligence in his eyes far beyond what he knew at the time.
His eyes scanning the tree-line, and so far much to his shock there was no change. Until he heard rustling. Looking over in the direction he heard the noise, he saw a boy staring at him with an emotionless look. Blood dripping from his hands and pooling at his bare feet. Charles noticed the claws then and the trembling fists that showed the pain his hands and wrists were in. But it was the boy’s eyes that concerned him the most.
“Logan.” Charles tried uncertain, but he kept any uncertainness out of his voice. Kept it polite.
“My name’s not Logan. It’s James.” The boy corrected almost offended to be called Logan, but still no change in expression or lack thereof.
“Okay, very well James then. What are you doing out here?” Charles acknowledged calmly as he directed a question towards the boy named James.
“Hiding.” James answered with little to no emotion.
“Hiding? From who?” Charles pushed, trying to dig whatever information he could gain in order to help James/Logan from this situation. It was imperative that he did.
“The bad men, in the white coats. They’re always so mean to me. They hurt me, hurt me lots.” James explained no emotion still.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Charles said, honestly. No child should even get a glimpse of what that might be like. It wasn’t fair to the child.
“No you’re not. No one is that’s why they chase me away. They don’t want me around so it’s only the men in white coats for me.” James said, a light giggle almost heard. Almost like he found it funny, but Charles saw no life in those eyes. A damaged and broken boy. Shattered innocence was what Charles could come up with.
“Why don’t you come with me, I know a place where you can be safe. No one will chase you away there. I promise.” Charles reassured, trying to coax the boy now. Ignoring the crushing blows from countless emotions overlapping themselves.
“I can’t come with you though. He’ll hurt you if I go.” James said, emotionless again. Shaking his head in disagreement.
“Who?” Charles asked, taking a step forward only to stop when James took a step back.
“The bad man. But he’s not a man at all you see. He’s an animal in human skin. A real wolf who snarls and snaps at anything living. He was trained to do that, sir.” James explained almost gleefully. The switch between emotions and none was almost dizzying, but given what Charles could sense already. That was nothing in comparison.
“Who is this bad man, can you tell me his name?” A nod from the boy caused Charles to push on by asking a simple, “Who?”
“He doesn’t have a name not one like me. But you can call him Weapon X. He’s really mean. He attacks anything and everything that moves.” James explained without any emotion, but a slight tremble spoke of fear. This boy, James was afraid of Weapon X.
“I can prot…” Charles started to promise, dreading how desperate his voice might have sounded at the time.
“Shhh!” James interrupted a teasing smile on his face. And the next thing Charles knew was that the boy was running away.
“Wait!” Charles called after him, instincts taking over and Charles chased after the boy. Not completely aware of the surroundings melting away into knew ones. Until he slammed right into a metal door. Cursing lightly he looked around. There was no boy to be seen and no tracks to ever show he ran this way. Only tracks that there was belonged to Charles and even those were fading.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Weapon X: Man or Animal