On The Rocks

Later...

They now spent their mornings in silence. They felt as if they needed to say everything, but everything had already been said days before - during the - what? What could that be called? It wasn't lovemaking, and it wasn't sex because it wasn't consentual on either side. Rape seemed to be the best word to describe what took place. And during the rape they said they weren't lovers, they didn't want to do what they ended up doing, and they were sorry. What else was there to say?

What Lady Yvanka did ruined the special bond Logan and Jubilee had between each other. They couldn't even speak to each other, too guilty to look each other in the eye. How can two people who share their deepest thoughts, who saved each others' lives countless times, be afraid to even look at one another? They spent their time in silence now, miserable, lonely silence, and it angered them.

One morning he awoke to find Jubilee sobbing, rocking herself. Logan had crept close to her, and almost hugged her, but he hesitated at that moment, afraid to touch her.

"Just hold me, Wolvie!" She cried

He held her in a tight hug and rest his chin on the top of her head. She shook like a rattlesnake's tail, her tears dropping on his arms, tickling him.

"I don't want to be in this shithole any more! I want out!" She grit her teeth and cried, her body bent over in anguish, white-hot tears streaming down her face. Logan smoothed her hair gently and murmured to her.

"Just cry," He cooed to her, trying to fight his own rising anger. It wouldn't do Jubilee any good for him to regress into rage. Not here. Not now. "let it out."

Soon her cries turned into sniffles, and she fell quiet, her eyes locked on the dingy puddle underneath them. Logan sat next to her, arms wrapped around her in comfort.

There was so much to say - yet there was no way to say it. No words came to him. It frustrated him. How could he manage to talk about his experiences of getting his adamantium ripped out, lose his loved ones and memories, become the personification of Death himself, but when it came to the subject of his being raped - nothing? How could all these horrible things happen to him and he move on, but here in this dark, dingy cell he felt more hollow than he ever had in his lousy life?

Lady Yvanka had seemed so kind at first. She gave them medicine. She gave them protection from guards and other prisoners. She fed them. She even gave them blankets for the cold nights. She promised to let them go within the year, claiming that trespassing, although a serious crime in her city, was forgiveable so long as they behaved theselves. She had gained their trust.

Then she poisoned their food and made them do things they never expected to do and never wanted to do. It was betrayal, and the wounds that betrayal causes run deeply.


---


A few hours of silence later, Jubilee found the words that she was looking for, the words that could explain the emotions she felt beating in her breast and running through her veins like poison, the words they both were looking for but couldn't make sense of. "I want to kill her."

Wolverine narrowed his eyes. "Jubilee," he growled, a warning.

"I want to see her bleed." Her eyes misted over, ignoring his threat. She didn't care anymore. Who cared about innocence when it kept her in a dingy cell?

What use was her innocence in the Quarry or any other hellhole? The man she killed with the miner's pick was unintentional - it was defense, but he was still dead. Her innocence lost with a single swing. What was one more death on her head?

"Jubilee, ya don't want to do that. You think you do, but you don't. Don't go entertainin' thoughts o' death. Once you do, you can't stop."

"I want her to pay, Wolverine!" She bashed her balled fists into the gross puddle. She said his name condiscendingly. "Look at what she did to us! We can't even look at each other any more! It was one of her guards that killed all those people! She trapped us down here like animals and slaved us out and even made us like her for it! Then she spat in our faces with that!" She pointed to the discarded, poisoned food. "Don't tell me what I don't want! I want her to pay for this!"

Fast as lightning, he twisted her under him, pinning her down, his face dangerously close to hers. "Is that what ya want, Jubilation? Ya want to be a killer? It'd be easy enough, girl! You've been around the ol' canucklehead long enough to know what it takes! But do you really wanna walk through the rest o' yer life with yer victims' ghosts chasin' after you?" His arms gripped her shoulders tightly, as if he could will the rage out of her and absorb it into himself.

Her smoke-blue eyes locked onto his own whiskey-brown. "What about you? You mean you don't want to see her dead? You can't lie to me, anymore than I can lie to you. I can see it in your eyes, you want her blood just as badly as I do. So what's the deal, huh? Why are you trying to hold me back? Want to keep her death all to yourself?"

He was frozen in shock, as if he had been struck down by the lightning of epiphany. She was right, goddamn her. He didn't want her to kill Lady Yvanka because he wanted to do it himself. He wanted to disembowel her and hang her for what she did. He let her go. "Just so we're clear. Once ya start, there's no going back."

"I know," She said, her eyes narrowing as she dusted herself off. "If we get outta here, she's not just yours. She's ours."

Wolverine knew he would regret this. "Fine."

---

Wolverine heard the stone walls slide open. The guards came in and grabbed the two, dragging them to their feet. "Come on now, lovebirds!" Another guard laughed. "Wish Lady Yvanka would smile down upon me like you two, I'd kill for a good fuck!" They laughed joyfully, oblivious to the thick air of misery looming over the two prisoners they touted around like rag dolls.

The collar was slid on quickly, and Wolverine was yanked through the hall roughly. Jubilee was dragged by the arm. He could hear her kicking up stones behind him.

"Off for another beautiful day in the Quarry!" One Guard laughed in a sing-song voice. "Hope you two are enjoying yourselves in your cell!"

Wolverine twirled around and bunted the man in the stomach, catching him unaware and making him fall hard. He made one good thwack square in the guard's jaw, and he could feel that a few teeth had given way under his adamantium-laced sucker punch.

He didn't feel any rage or hatred or anger, just a wave of calm and the undeniable need to beat this man to a bloody pulp. He was cool and collected, assaulting the guard with as many blows as he could give.

"Ritchie!" Shouted Jubilee's guard, too busy trying to keep her under control, "get your fat ass in here now! The pretty's gone apeshit!"

"Get this motherfucker offa me!" The guard gurgled through the blood in his mouth and punches. Even with advanced healing from the drugs, the adamantium-laced punches kept him down.

"Heal from this, you bastard," Wolverine unsheathed a claw and drove it into the guard's brain, not caring that Jubilee was watching, not caring that he could die for this, not caring about anything. He felt nothing, just that cold void urging him to kill. Then he slid his claws upwards, cutting through his skull, ripping through flesh and organ.

Jubilee blanched as the blood flowed thickly from the dead guard onto the stone floor, dark red against dark gray. Had she anything in her stomach, she would have thrown up at the sight of the spongy, pinkish-gray of the one organ that separated man from the other beasts.

Wolverine was yanked away and lifted by the collar, cutting off circulation to his brain. His second guard had come to his first guard's rescue too late. The guard was dead, and soon Logan would be, too.

"You killed Price. That was stupid. Real fucking stupid, you filthy scut. You think you can get away with that shit just 'cause Lady Yvanka favors you?" the second guard said, wrapping Wolverine's chain around his neck, underneath the collar.

"No!" Jubilee cried as the guard tightened the chain around Wolverine's neck, his eyes beginning to turn pink under the pressure. "Put him down you goddamn sonofabitch!"

Wolverine's second guard glared at Jubilee. "Big words," he said, then squeezed the chain around Logan's neck, out of spite. "Wanna see the whoreson die, pretty?" Wolverine was growing weaker, his body slowly growing limp. His vision blurred and blackened, a crying Jubilee the last thing he could see.

"Ryon, put him down," Jubilee's Guard said, two large hards keeping the struggling Jubilee in place. "I don't want to have to explain to Lady Yvanka who killed her pet."

The second guard eyed Jubilee's guard for a moment, considering. He very slowly lowered Wolverine to the ground and loosened the chain.

A gasp of air and a choke later, Wolverine was yanked back to his feet and dragged into the quarry.


---

"How are they doing, my love?"

"Well, my lady!" Indah said, rubbing a poultice on her Lady's hand gently. "Though they are quite angry."

The Lady couldn't care less about their emotional well-being. "I hope it will be a girl," The Lady said wistfully.

"Doesn't our Lord wish for a male heir?"

"Yes, but females are much better." She winked at Indah, who giggled. Anyone with half a brain knew that it was the Lady Yvanka who ruled, not her husband. He was half-senile with age, and Indah's herbs helped keep him that way. It was better for everyone that way. He was a tyrant - the Lady Yvanka was a better ruler, though admittedly not by much.

"When can we determine she is with child?"

Indah opened a jar of sweet-smelling, dried herbs and rubbed it over her lady's skin. "At least three more weeks. Though I am certain she will be," she said, putting her herbs away. "I have been feeding her numerous plant essentials that encourage fertility. She needed them since she was starving."

The corner of the Lady's mouth twitched in thought. Then she decided to change the subject. She took a slender, delicate finger and brushed Indah's hair away from her face. "After the child is born," she explained, trailing her finger down Indah's feminine collarbone, making her shiver, "I want you to increase the dosage you feed to our Lord. Can you do that?"

"It may permenently harm him," she answered, then closed her eyes as her Lady kissed her breast, trying to drown the rising sense of disgust at the thought of poisoning another person. "But yes."

"Good."

Indah loved her lady more than she could ever articulate, and the feeling was mutual. So why was Indah suddenly entertaining thoughts of letting those prisoners go? She watched as her Lady undressed herself. She waited, then the Lady began to undress her as well. Inside, her mind screamed at her. You hate how she uses you. How can you let her use those two as well?

She swallowed as the Lady led her to her bed. She felt terrible - terrible for poisoning the prisoners, and all the other acts of cruelty she had assisted the Lady through her knowledge of herbs and plants. She was the Lady's first-hand assassin, maid, and lover. And now she was going to betray her. She hoped she wouldn't die for it.

She lowered herself to the Lady's thin waist, kissing her between her legs. So what if your life is charmed. So what if she showers you with love and gifts. Is that worth the cost of your soul? The lady closed her eyes and moaned under Indah's experienced touch. Indah closed her eyes as well, accepting her role that she was sure to play in the following days, may God forgive her.

---

"You look ill, my friend," explained Rooter, observing the abrasions on Logan's neck and burst blood vessel on his eye - turning his entire eye red. "Did the guards beat you too terribly?" He asked, gentle concern in his voice.

"Nah," He explained, grimly chipping away at the rock. Rooter fell silent for a moment, watching the glum-faced Jubilee shove the rocks quietly into the bag.

"What happened to you?" Rooter asked, knowing he shouldn't have. "You two have changed so much. The light in her eyes are gone."

"None of your damn business." Logan growled. He didn't want anyone to know about what happened. No one. Not Rooter, not the guards, not other prisoners, not the Xmen, no one. He wanted to forget and so did Jubilee.

Jubilee tried to hide her scowl at Rooter's nosiness, but failed. Rooter was a friend, so she should be nice - but living in this place made being nice such a hard thing to do. Every day that went by, she found herself a little colder, a little meaner, a little angrier. It was as if this place leeched away the humanity of all who lived here. It made her sick.

"Very well," Rooter said with a hurt tone. If they didn't want to talk about it, fine. He could just ask a guard later.

---

The guards called quitting time. Jubilee was shoved into into her cell, but Logan wasn't. She squealed like a frightened rabbit, knowing full well what was going to happen. "Where are you taking him!" She cried, more as a plea than anything else, and her guard scowled at her.

"He killed a guard, pretty. Where do you think he's going?" He said, and slid the stone wall shut.

---

He was led into a room that looked, smelled, and functioned as a torture chamber. One man was lying on a wooden table that was attatched to a winch, bent at a painful position. The Prisoner looked to Logan, sorrow dwelling in his ugly eyes. "I hope they kill you," he said honestly, "It's the best way."

Logan was shoved on his knees in front of Lady Yvanka and a frail looking man who sat next to her. He was dressed even more regally than she was. By the looks of him, Logan surmised he was the Lord Balsan, ruler of the underground city. Somehow, he expected the Lord to be a tad more intimidating. He glanced to Lady Yvanka, who stood still as a statue, looking down at him, nose in the air, as if she had smelled something terrible, and Logan was the pile creating it.

"Bitch," he cursed through bloody teeth, glaring at her.

Lady Yvanka stepped back, shocked. His bloody teeth, red eye, and the look of pure hatred made him look as if he was something that walked straight out of hell. She quickly regained her composure, nodding to one of the guards who held him still.

"You will respect our Lady!" One of the guards shouted, punching Logan so hard in the stomach that the wind was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping and coughing.

"I am Lord Balsan," the frail, shaking man tried to say, his words hard to understand. "This is....my...wife.... my Lady, Yvanka." He explained, then stopped speaking, exhausted. He nodded to Lady Yvanka.

She pointed at him, as if she could summon lightning and strike him dead. "You killed a first class Prison Guard," she accused, then slapped him across the face in anger. "After all I have done for you, you repay me by killing one of my men!"

She looked over at the Executioner, a man who stood silently as a Roman God a ways off. "For that you should be killed. But I still need you," She explained, motioning her hand for the Executioner to step forward. "So that means I'll have to think up a better way to punish you."

The Executioner beckoned the two Guards over. They dragged Wolverine over to a part of the floor that was made out of iron. The Executioner strapped Wolverine to the metal floor, in manacles.

"You will be flogged." The Lady said, hatred dripping off her words. "Then our good doctor will do to you whetever he deems curious to science and the human body."

With that, she left with her husband. The two guards left also, leaving Logan alone with the executioner and the prisoner who laid on the table. The doctor watched from behind the table, finger curled around his bearded upper lip. He was told by Lady Yvanka that he could do anything to the man - so long as he wasn't killed. His eyes sparkled mischieviously. He had so many wonderful questions that needed to be answered with scalpel and body.

The executioner grabbed a tool from the table, eyeing it carefully. Should he use this one first? Or something else? He picked his weapons and tools carefully, making sure that he did this the right and proper way, to ensure a painful assault.

The prisoner on the table groaned at the sight of the weapons, knowing full well what kind of pain each instrument brought on. For the man strapped on the floor, the prisoner on the table could tell it was going to be a long and painful night.

---

The torture room was strategically placed above the prison cell so that the sounds the victims made could easily travel through the cells, that way each and every torture could be used an example of anyone who misbehaved.

Jubilee had recognized Wolverine's voice the first time he screamed. It would have been better if she simply imagined what was happening to him - that way her imagination would make it less painful than it really was. But the cell picked up every sound, leaving her imagination immobile.

Jubilee covered her ears, trying to drown out the horrific sound, but it did little good. Tears falling freely, she crouched into a tiny ball and screamed with Wolverine.

---

Indah couldn't sleep. She was going over her plan, making sure everything was just perfect so that the escape didn't point to her. Just go down to the prison and tell the lovely girl who slept there how to escape.

She heard the lovely man scream, and she wrung her hands. Would he be able to escape? Didn't someone say he had a natural healing factor?

"Ugh!" She sobbed, unable to accept that in a way, she had played a hand in their torture, though not intentionally. She put her head in her hands and shook her head, as if she could shake her guilt off her person.

She couldn't believe she was doing this! Betraying her love, her Lady. After all the kind things the Lady had done for her, how could she do this to her?

Wolverine howled again.

"Stop screaming!" She pleaded. His howls were terrible, as if every cry he made was a direct result of her doing.
"I'm sorry, lovelies!" She cried. "I'll make it up to you, okay?! Just stop screaming!"

---

He had passed out from the assault. But he was awake now, strapped to a dirty table, his back stinging and aching from being laid on. He groaned in pain and opened his eyes to see the Executioner and doctor looking down at him, faces grim.

"This may hurt a little," the doctor said, picking up a glowing hot tool that looked suspiciously like a carpenter's chisel. "Yes, yes, just a little," he said, then bent down to his work, the executioner forcing Wolverine's eyes open...

---

The screams had died down temporarily. Strangely enough, his silence was more frightening than his howls of pain. Jubilee was afraid they had killed him. The silence didn't last long, however, and she instinctively covered her ears again. "No, no no!" She hissed, clenching her teeth.

She didn't know what was being done to him. She thought that not knowing what they were doing to him would be better, but he was screaming louder, so that meant he was being tortured worse than he was earlier.

"I'll kill you, you bitch!" Jubilee screamed, her words inaudible under Wolverine's tortured howls. "Do you hear me, Yvanka! I'll fucking kill you for this!"

---

Wolverine was finally thrown back into his cell, and Jubilee was instantly beside him, hugging him tenderly and talking to him, just as she had done back at the reaver base all those years ago. He groaned at her touch.

It was as if every inch of his body had gone unscathed in that torture room. No matter how she tried to help, she only seemed to make it hurt worse.

He was covered from head to toe in bruises, and one eye was almost black in color, having been gouged out and swollen shut.

"Oh, Wolvie, look at what they did to you," she squeaked like a mouse, tears falling constantly.

Parts of his body had been gouged out and burned shut, leaving deep, painful pits in his skin. A stitched up incision scar ran across his abdomen and down his chest. His back had been ripped to shreds.

"D-don't," Logan moaned in pain, "worry lil' darlin. U-uh, I'll uuuhhh," he was loosing conciousness again, which at the moment was a blessing, "...h-h-heal s-s-s-soon..." He lost conciousness. Jubilee shook her head, hands covering her mouth in horror.

She covered him with her yellow trench coat as best as she could and let him sleep, cradling his head on her lap, trying to keep him warm. Blood seeped through his shirt and her coat. She rocked him back and forth. "I'll get her. I'll get her for this. You just watch, Wolvie, I'll get her." Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at the tiny grate so far above her. "I'll make her pay."

---

She had fallen asleep over his limp, cold form, exhausted from sobbing. He had been so still and quiet that she was afraid he had died during the night. For a moment she thought he had, and in that moment she had wanted nothing more than to die with him.

But he had involuntarily coughed during her hysteria, cluing her in that he was still alive, though barely.

And Wolverine had been right - once she began entertaining the thoughts of killing Yvanka, she never stopped. Even in her dreams, Yvanka was cast in a tragic play of pain and death.

Jubilee awoke to hear someone above hissing at her. A rock landed on her head, robbing her of the sleepy fog that clouded her mind.

"Wake up, lovely!" Indah whispered loudly, hoping no one else would hear her.

She glanced up to see the blurry form of the Orc Girl. "What the hell do you want?" She growled, rubbing her head in the spot the pebble had landed.

"I'm sorry." The Orc girl said simply.

"Gee, that's thoughtful of you. You're forgiven, you murderous cow."

The Orc girl snarled, her eyes suddenly glowing a demon-red, her lips curling, making her tusks appear to grow in size from her snarl. "He's not dead yet! Do you want my help or not?"

"Help? So you're helping us, now?"

"Shut up and listen! There's an inhibitor implanted under your skin, three inches above your left nipple." She explained as she unlocked the grate. It stayed closed, but it was most definately, intentionally and blessedly, left unlocked.

Jubilee put her hand over her chest, eyes widening in sudden realization. The sore spot! She felt it underneath her skin, small and swollen like a spider bite.

"That's what keeps you from using your powers. Remove it." She explained, then looked up quickly, as if she had seen something that frightened her.

"How do I remove it! I don't have anything down here!"

"That's not my problem!" Indah shouted, and disappeared from the grate, having run away from whatever it was that had scared her.

Jubilee felt excitement rush through her veins. "Remove it. Right. With what?" She looked around for anything she could use to extract it with, and found only the old, poisoned food. "Nothing, there's nothing in here!" She hissed.

Then her eyes fell on the shallow-breathing Logan, and an idea sprung to mind. She grabbed his hand. "Wolvie," She said, trying to shake him awake. "Wake up!"
He stirred, but remained under consciousness. She grit her teeth. "Wake. Up. Now."

No response.

She growled. "Dammit, Wolvie, wake up! Do I have to do all this myself?!" He didn't even murmur a response. He was too tired, too cold, and too physically damaged.

She felt the rage build inside her again. "God damn it, why did you have to kill that guard!?" She bashed her fits onto his sore chest, not caring that he had a large incision scar there, and then she had ripped stitches loose. "Why?! If you die, I'll never get out of here!" She hit him, over and over. "Wake up! This is our big break, you jerk! Don't ruin it for me!"

He made a gurgling sound, a sound full of pain, and rolled over, reacting to her painful blows. In an attempt to defend himself, he unsheathed his claws with a snikt! and attempted to scratch her across the face. He was too weak and blinded by the hot chisel to make an accurate swipe or tell that Jubilee was the one causing the assault. His arm fell over his chest, and went limp once more, claws still extended.

Jubilee's heart was in her throat. She did it. She got him to pop his claws. She choked back an excited whimper. "Okay, big kahuna, you've gone this far." She swallowed and grabbed his claws, slicing up her fingers in the process. "Sorry about smackin' ya back there, but how else could I get you to pop your claws?"

Her blood made holding his hand steady a slippery and difficult business. She narrowed her eyes and pushed her yellow trenchcoat away, exposing his bare and bruised chest. "Hold on, Wolvie. One more ..." She pressed his own claw into his flesh. "...hurt..." She drug his claw down, creating a deep, red incision. She let go of his hand and dug her finger into his wound. She felt around for it, looking for that tell-tale inhibitor. She felt a sharp edge, tiny and metallic, underneath her index finger. "...got it!" She shouted, ripping it out of his chest.

She threw it into the stagnant water. She leaned close to Wolverine, watching his chest and bruises carefully.

She could already see the bruises begin to fade. She closed her eyes, thanking god. Then she swallowed again. She had one more thing she needed to do. Her own.

She wiped her bloody hands and used both of her hands to pick up Logan's claws, pointing them on herself, just above her left breast. She took in a deep breath, and pressed his claw in.

"AAauugh!" She screamed, feeling his blades sink into her flesh. She wasn't even an inch deep between her ribs yet. She had to go deeper. She screamed again, her hands shaking, tears running down her face. "U-U-Uhhh," She gasped in pain, knowing she had reached a new low, then let his clawed hand fall to his healing chest. She fell backward, blood seeping down her shirt.

"Can't stop yet, Jubilation," she said to herself, then took in a deep breath, summoning all the courage and strength she had left, and dug her finger into her injury.

It stung painfully, the salt and grit on her finger making it hurt so much more painfully. She grabbed her own inhibitor and yanked it out painfully. Relief filled her instantly; It was out. The battle was half over. She fell back, exhausted by the stress, and stared up at the grate she knew Indah had left unlocked for them.

Suddenly that locked grate looked different. It wasn't a prison anymore. It was an escape route. Beathing heavily in relief and excitement, she stared at that grate so far above her in wonder. Just what in the hell caused Indah to have such a sudden change of heart? She turned her head to look at Wolverine, who's chest was beginning to take on its smooth-skinned appearance.

"Healin' factor's workin' overtime, eh, Wolvie?" She whispered with a small smile. His breathing had begun to return to normal. Blood was coming back into his pale face.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him mumble in response. Jubilee let out a small smile, her sights returning to the grate. "Rest up. We got a few hours left of night. When you feel better, we're busting outta here."