Disclaimer: The X-men and their world belong to Mavel/Fox. No profit or copyright infringement is intended. This is an X-men Shared Universe, orignally imagined by Tarchannon, Dark Legends is a dark future where the next generation of the Legacy virus has triggered disturbing changes in the X-men. For further stories by a variety of authors and poets, go here.


Dog's Life

There were no more pets in the mansion. Logan, leaning against a window in the deserted hallway, ran his tongue over his teeth. He could hear Bobby crying the floor below and his lips drew back, baring teeth that had sharpened slightly over the last few months. Eating Bobby's iguana had been a lot better than gutting the brat and that had been Logan's first, frighteningly strong, impulse. And the lizard had tasted pretty damn good. Just like chicken.

Someone was outside and Logan's eyes tracked the solitary figure lit by the eerie blue/green/gold aura that flickered across half the night sky. The Canadian was used to the Northern lights in their cold beauty but never this far south and never day and night as it had been recently. Ororo must still be awake, the aura covering most of the sky dimmed when she was asleep. After a moment he recognized the walk, smiling thinly. Some things never change, Scott still walked like he had a stick up his ass.

Logan slipped out the window onto the porch roof then dropped onto the walkway with a grunt. Sniffed the air and caught Scott's distinctive scent then followed it to where the field leader of the X-men was kneeling in the uncut grass, rocking silently back and forth.

The night was strange. Scents stronger, shadows darker, the half moon shining like a knife in the dark. The uncut grass was going to seed, heavy seedheads brushing against each other and tapping on the glass of the abandoned greenhouse like dry fingers. The light from the aura in the sky cast a faint twisting illumination making it easy to misjudge distances and giving even the most familiar places an alien edge.

"What y'doin out here, Cyke?" Logan growled. Coughed and spat into the grass, he couldn't recall the last time he'd spoken and the words felt - strange. He thought of Hank and wondered, skin crawling, if he too was going to - change. More than he had already. Everyone had changed and, the thing of it was, sometimes it was hard to remember that. Logan knew that four months ago he wouldn't have eaten a cat - now he couldn't really recall why not. Thing had been howling and meowing outside his window for a week and if it was too stupid to run - that wasn't his problem. The cold gleam of polished stone caught his eye for a moment, the Logan jerked his head aside to stare across the empty gardens. Marie would never - and Logan recalled abruptly that the cat he'd eaten the other day in a fit of predatory hunger had been hers.

A shudder wracked his heavy body and Logan glared at the new headstones in the grass. Angry, he was angry. Not sad. Rage was choking his breath, not grief. He never cried. "Marie -"

Logan focused desperately on Scott's sleep rumpled brown hair. He didn't look at the tainted sky, not at the shadows under the trees that seemed so terribly dark and not at the flat stones laid out on the grass, silent, motionless - dead. "Cyke - answer me!"

Scott's head jerked around and Logan snarled instinctively, still not used to the man's bare face. The man's pupils glowed red, two bright specks in what must have been his natural blue eyes. No one had seen them for years, even Scott wasn't sure if the blue was normal or a result of the changes the field leader was going through. Last month Scott had realized he could control his optic blasts and, for the first time since he was sixteen, he'd taken off his glasses to look at the world.

"Logan." Scott's voice was conversational, as if he wasn't kneeling half naked in the grass besides dozens of fresh graves where more than half the school's students lay rotting in the earth. "He - was my best friend."

"Who t'hell y'talking about?"

"Warren - Warren Worthington III. One of the richest men, and positively the richest mutant, in the country. We've - we'd know each other since he was sixteen and I was younger than that." Scott made a stiff and awkward gustier towards the nearest headstone where Warren's full name, date of birth and death date was the only epitaph the young mutant would ever have. He seemed unaware that he'd begun rocking again.

"Yeah. Okay, so - " Logan tossed his head and shifted restlessly. There was nothing he wanted to think about around here. "why the hell y'out here?"

Scott laughed, bitterly. "Why? Why? I don't know - my best friend. The first close friend I'd ever had. Stuck up rich boy who didn't care that I was some fucked up, freaked out mutant street trash. We've saved the fucking world together! And - I can't even cry. I can't even cry for him. God - is this all there is? A damn rock in the grass? Not even tears?"

"Tears ain't no fucking use to anyone!" Logan snapped, hands curling into fists. "He's dead - dead - and that's it! There ain't nothing more. Just dead. There ain't tears for the likes of us!"

"I can't believe that! I can't live like that!" Scott cried to Warren's grave. "What's going to happen to us? God, can't you see it? The changes? What are we going to become? Animals? Monsters like the humans believe we are? If we can't even cry over our dead - we will be monsters!"

"So fucking cry then! Cry for them all! Cry for that asshole friend of yours, cry for - "

"I can't!" Scott yelled. "God - I can't! I can't let it go! Everyone's fearless leader - what else do I have? Leaders don't cry!"

"Goddam you!" Logan grabbed Scott and yanked him to his feet, throat closing so painfully that he almost couldn't speak. Someone had to cry. Someone had to. "You fucking cry for them, damn you!"

Scott's strange eyes were wild, desperate. "Make me!"

Logan stared at him.

"Make me, damn you! Make me cry!"

When Logan didn't move Scott, with a wild cry, backhanded the other man. The fury was instantaneous, uncontrollable. Logan threw Scott back, snarling. When he leapt, the leader of the X-men made no attempt to defend himself. The two of them rolled amid the freshly turned earth, Logan snarling and Scott goading him on.

Logan gripped Scott's wrists in one hand and pinned the lighter man under his heavy body. Scents rose dizzyingly around him; earth and night air, sweat, and the ache in Scott was so strong he could practically smell it. The muscles under the hot golden skin were tense and trembling, Scott's breath hissed between clenched teeth. Logan leaned down to press his nose to Scott's hair. Inhaled.

"Cry damn you - someone - someone's got to - "

"Make me -" Scott whispered. "God, Logan make me - help me!"

Logan sank his teeth into the heavy muscles of Scott's shoulder. The other man screamed with relief and pain. Logan dragged his fingers down the other man's bare chest, leaving bloody scratches. Scott thrashed under him, not fighting for freedom, fighting for more, fighting for some kind of release that only Logan's brutality could give him. The Canadian mutant didn't hold back, mauling Scott, leaving bloody bites and swiftly darkening bruises. When his hands dragged across Scott's loose trousers, Logan growled and tore them off. He wanted skin. He wanted all that hot, strange skin.

Logan's assault became less angry more - hungry. Scott shuddered, struggling weakly now as he felt Logan's open mouth moving down his chest. Sharp teeth scraped over swelling nipples, Scott whimpered and Logan growled.

"Logan - Logan." Scott tugged at the other man's coarse black hair. Logan lifted his head, mouth half open and smudged with Scott's blood. His eyes were blank, hungry and savage. He bent and licked Scott's belly.

Logan ground his stiff cock against Scott's thigh then shifted and pulled at his pants with a snarl. Scott tried to slither away and Logan, naked now, grabbed him and threw him back down to the ground. He was hard, hurting and Scott wasn't making enough noise. Wasn't making the right noise. Scott, streaked with blood, began to fight in earnest. Growls rumbling constantly from his chest, the wild eyed mutant wrestled Scott down, forcing him belly down in the crushed grass.

"Logan - no! Logan! This isn't - this -" Scott cried. Logan wrenched the man's arms over his head and forced his knee between the golden thighs. "God! No - Logan! Not like this! Not here!"

Logan only bent over, crushing Scott under him, and bit the nape of his neck until Scott screamed. He screamed again as Logan twisted his hips and began to force his cock into Scott's ass.

The tightness was good and the noises were good - better - and the hot, tight hole was impossible to resist. Scott shrieked as Logan drove forward. With a satisfied grunt, Logan began to rock his hips. Scott was thrashing under him, clawing at the grass. When Logan forced a hand under Scott's body to grab his stiff cock, the field leader of the X-men began to weep. Groaning, Logan thrust harder - harder - jacking the hot cock in his hand at the same time. There was the drunken taste of blood in his mouth and the sweet, sweet scent of tears. And the rising sobs.

Body tightening, the rush rising abruptly up his spine to explode in his head, Logan came with a howl. Scott spasmed around him, pulsing around his cock and hot over his fingers. Yes. And more, yes. And Scott was crying hard, finally letting go, sobbing wordless and anguished and relieved. Logan buried his face in Scott's neck, teeth clenched on the sobs he would not let out, his tears lost in the sweaty brown hair.