Wendigo: The Cycle of the Storm
Jan. 4th, 2008 11:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated to the 4th, taking place from then until the 6th, with Kane and Marie returning to the mansion on the 13th.
Marie receives a phone call from Kane, asking her and Logan to come up to Canada as soon as possible. Concerned, Marie contacts Heather Hudson for clarification.
Marie tapped her foot impatiently as the phone rang several times before a familiar voice picked up. "Heather? It's Marie. What's going on?" She knew there was little point to starting the conversation with small talk. Her terse conversation with Garrison had made it apparent that something big was going on in Canada, though he hadn't actually said what beyond that some people were missing. When she'd tried to call him back, the phone had gone straight to voicemail, so she'd decided to go over his head a little.
"Marie? How did you get this number? It's an unregistered... oh wait, Kane has the security consciousness of a mildly concussed red squirral around you. Forgot that." The voice over the phone wasn't unfriendly, and Marie knew Heather long enough to recognize the stress behind it. "Did he get in touch with you?"
Heather's tone was only adding to Marie's level of concern. "Yes, but he didn't tell me much before hanging up and I haven't been able to get a hold of him since," she said, her voice tinged with worry, the words tumbling out of her. "Said someone was missing, but wouldn't give me any details, said he wanted to get a little more information since. Ah just expected him to call back soon. Unless something is seriously wrong." Marie finally took a breath and waited anxiously for Heather's response.
"Something might be wrong. That's the trouble. We don't really know." Heather sighed. "Joseph's been up north again, and he's dropped out of sight. That's not completely uncommon, but we had an issue we needed to talk to him about and we can't reach him. I'm worried."
"How long has he been gone now?" she asked. "And what's the secondary issue?" Marie leaned her head slightly to cradle the phone on her shoulder, walking to her closet to pull out a suitcase.
Something might be wrong. That's the trouble. We don't really know." Heather sighed. "Joseph's been up north again, and he's dropped out of sight. That's not completely uncommon, but we had an issue we needed to talk to him about and we can't reach him. I'm worried."
"How long has he been gone now?" she asked. "And what's the secondary issue?" Marie leaned her head slightly to cradle the phone on her shoulder, walking to her closet to pull out a suitcase.
"Three days. Secondary issue is something departmental. The main issue is that three days out of touch above the Artic Circle; if he's been hurt, it doesn't take long for exposure to take its toll up there."
"So has anyone gone and physically looked for him?" she asked as she opened drawers and started tossing sweaters, gloves, and other clothes into the bag. "Ah mean, Ah'm guessing yes or y'all wouldn't be so worried."
"An RCMP detachment. We just lost contact with them." Her voice was grim.
Marie swallowed hard. "How long ago?"
"A few hours. I asked for a situation report, and Arviat couldn't raise them. I'd like to bring you and Logan up, potentially to intervene if we can't get them back on the radio."
"We'll be there as soon as we can," she said, feeling that she could speak for Logan. Zipping up her bag, she snapped her phone shut, eyes closing as she slipped it into her pocket. She gave herself a moment, only one, to let the worry flow through her. Then she pushed it away and ran towards Logan's room.
Arriving in Canada, they are briefed on Joseph Twoyoungman's disappearance, and asked to help locate him.
Marie sat rigidly in the chair in the conference room, waiting for Garrison and Heather to join her and Logan. Garrison's call to the pair hadn't been detailed, but Heather's request that she and Logan had made their way to Toronto as quickly as possible about Joseph's disappearence was enough. After all, a request for them to meet surely meant he was in some kind of unique trouble. All her attempts to contact Garrison on the drive up had gone straight to voicemail, and Logan's attempts at reassurance had fallen on deaf ears as Marie continued to stew in her own thoughts, thinking up worst case scenarios for why they had been asked to come North.
Garrison walked in and at the other side of the table. He looked grim; remote. The beard was a surprise, covering his scarred throat and making him look far more his father's son. In all, there was something changed about him, although the situation didn't make anything clear as to the reason. The fact he didn't come to say anything to Marie before the meeting was surprising; it was his professional face on, as hard as anything she'd seen from Logan or Nate.
Heather wore her own concern openly, tossing her notes on the table. Her light red hair was mussed, like it had been freed from a ponytail only moments before. That meant she'd been working constantly; one of the little signals that was quickly picked up during an Alpha Flight tenure.
"Logan, Marie. Thank you for coming up. I wish it was under better circumstances."
"Any time, darlin'." Logan said. "Now you wanna quit dancin' and tell us what the hell's goin' on here? Everyone here's actin' real spooked, like something big just popped onto the radar."
"Nothing big, at least we hope." Heather said, pressing both hands down against the tabletop. "Joseph's been doing some work north of the Artic Circle. I don't pretend to understand it, but it had something to do with areas where the Cree and the Inuit challenged for control, and how the magical spirits of the two cultures intermeshed. In any case, normally we wouldn't have even worried about him dropping off the map while he's working on these sorts of cases. Native magic involves a lot of remote locations and rituals that you can't take time out to check your Blackberry during."
"He's always made arrangements before, in case of emergencies." Kane said finally.
"That's why we're worried. We had a paranormal incident outside of Calgery we deemed important enough to contact him about. That was four days ago. It was then we started to get alarmed. The local RCMP force dispatched a team to Joseph's last known camp. We haven't been able to re-establish contact with them in the last thirty-two hours."
"That's not like him at all," Marie said, thinking of the man who had helped her regain her sanity. "What was the last contact he did make?"
"Something about a missing local teenager and hints of magical interference. Before we get into anything worrisome, I'd like to point out that Twoyoungman is currently the most powerful documented... I guess shaman or practictioner of magic arts recorded in Canada to date. He's the outlier, so we're not considering cults or rival mages or anything out of the back pages of the Toronto Sun yet." Heather held up her hands. "It's been a wet winter near Arviat this years; lots of snow, lots of storms. That's the reason that I asked you to come up. While this could be something more sinister, especially considering the missing RCMP detachment, the most likely answer is that he's been trapped somewhere or cut off by the weather. Between Marie's flight and strength, and your senses, Logan, there isn't a faster rescue party we can put together. If its something else, I trust you to be able to handle it, but the important thing is that even if its as simple as a broken leg and a snowed in camp, its been three days in an Artic winter. We need to find him and those Mounties fast."
"We'll need a medic." Logan pointed out, kicking up his boots onto the table. "And foul weather gear. If Joey's laid up somewhere and all fucked up, having someone to put him together might be a real good idea."
"Walter is going to set up a base of operations in Arviat's hospital. He and Mac have been working on more portable designs for some medical scanning equipment, and he wants to use Arviat as a test of their portability. Most of the community has to be flown down to Winnipeg for advanced diagonsis, so, well, you know Walt." Heather sighed. "Once we find him and the Mounties, we'll use helicoptors to get them to Arviat, weather permitting, or drive them out. The Canadian military is up keeping that highway clear, so we'll have a fast run once we're out of the bush."
"How bad is the weather?" Garrison leaned forward, hands loosely clasped.
"Bad enough. And getting worse. Supplies are being assembled as we speak. Unless there's anything else, there's a jet waiting for us."
Marie had risen to her feet before the words were even out of Heather's mouth. "Let's get to it then." There wasn't any time to waste, not with the storm increasing in strength and Twoyoungmen and the other Mounties out there in whatever kind of condition they were.
Arriving in the Artic, they pick up on Twoyoungman's tracks, and follow it into the woods with a storm brewing.
"Here's where they started on foot." Kane pointed to the tracks in the snow. They were about a hundred kilometers west of Arviat, where they had dropped off Walt to set up a command post at the local hospital. Arviat, in the south of the Kivalliq region, only held about two thousand people, and Walt had brought some additional equipment along to provide medical examinations for those in the community who were on wait times for other facilities. Heather, after insisting she would not wait back with Walt, had rented a large jeep and they had set out towards the last check in by the RCMP patrol. There they found their vehicle, untouched but empty, parked at the edge of a large and snowy pine forest.
It had just gone minus twenty as they stepped out of the car, thankful for the heavy winter gear the RCMP detechment had insisted on them wearing.
"Into the forest? Why?"
"Obviously that's where Twoyoungman had been headed." Kane said. The forest was sparse by Canadian standards; a low Artic sprawl of trees, shorter and less closed in then the more southern strands, and as a result, the snow lay deep and piled between the trunks. Kane took one look and went around to unpack the snowshoes.
Logan took one look at the snow and cursed resoundingly. He was heavier than most folks due to all the metal grafted to his bones and banks this deep would really slow his progress, even with snowshoes. "Weather's getting nasty." he said, looking up at the sky. "Doesn't make any fuckin' sense. Winds don't run like this this time of year." he groused. "Didn't know better, I'd say Remy'd pissed off 'Ro or something."
"Joseph has manipulated the weather before." Heather said, although looking unconvinced. There was something menacing about the scrub forest and the deepening banks of snow. It wasn't the bleakness of the environment, rather the sense of impending dread. She shivered into her heavy coat.
"If that's the case, it means he's out there, eh?" Kane pointed out, strapping the shoes to his feet.
Marie smiled at Garrison, despite her own concerns, having needed to hear someone say something optimistic. "Exactly," she said, surveying the area from where she hovered an inch above the snowy ground. "So now we just gotta find him and remind him that disappearing without telling someone why is a silly thing ta do."
"Yer assumin' he had a choice." he said, getting his own snowshoes on. Wider than most, to help compensate for his additional weight. They gave his gait a rather comical straddle-legged appearance. "RCMP teams don't just disappear. Shaman don't just disappear. I don't like it." he growled.
Kane eyed the dark shadows the trees cast. "I hate to say it, but I think the Old Man is right. Something stinks about all this."
"And you standing here making ominious comments is helping, Inspector." Heather said, already starting to trudge forward.
"Hey Marie, have you ever noticed how old Heather looks for her age? Like, much older than she should?" Kane said, ignoring the middle finger she flipped at him without pausing or looking back. Kane sighed and started to trudge after her.
Logan pulled ahead, sniffing the breezes as he walked. "Something's got the local wildlife spooked. Not getting much of anything nearby." he said, then looked up at the angry and threatening sky. "Might have somethin' to do with it."
"We should get moving before it hits." Heather shrugged her coat settled. There had been some objections to her coming, which she had ended with a firm 'deal with it' in response. In many ways, Heather Hudson was as unmovable as Cain. "Logan, can you pick up Joseph or the RCMP officers trail? Marie, can you provide us with some overhead perspective?" She tossed a headset mic over to the female mutant. "Might as well take advantage of the visibility as long as it lasts."
"On it," Marie said, catching the headset one handed and securing it on her head before pushing herself higher above the ground. Every way she looked, she saw a vast expanse of white. "Think Ah might shoot around in a couple directions to get a better view. Gonna be hard to find anything in this."
"Don't go too far, kid. I don't like this." Logan reiterated, then crouched down to catch the low, heavy scents that hadn't yet been absorbed or dispelled by the snow. He sat like that for a few moments, sniffing. "Got something. Faint, but this way." he said, heading off into the forest.
They discover the fate of the RCMP detachment originally tasked to find Joseph, and come face to face with a creature none of them have ever seen.
Between Logan's senses and Marie's aerial reconnaissance, it didn't take long to locate the trail of the missing RCMP detail. Much of their path had been snowed under, but they had been marking their trail with ribboned pitons into the trees. The last one was found in a thick strand that screened the upcoming clearing from those on the ground.
But Marie's sudden silence and the scent of blood was enough to know what was ahead.
The bodies were lying in various twisted poses, as if they'd been disjointed prior to falling to the ground. The ground around them was thick with frozen blood ice, and snow had bleached all the other colours to white.
Kane moved forward carefully. This was a crime scene, but more importantly, it was also fellow officers from the force. Long before Garrison had been an X-Men, he'd been a Mountie, and his identity with them ran deep. Careful not to disturb anything, Kane circled the bodies, looking for evidence. When he finally looked up, his face was carefully blank.
"These are bite marks."
"Animals? Like wolves or polar bears?"
"Not unless we're growing ones the size of a Great White." Kane pointed to one body, where the man had been eviscerated, and a large bite out of his torso flesh and intestines had been taken.
Logan almost puked his guts up, the stenches at this place were so thick. He knew enough to stay out of Kane's crime scene - that was a mistake he wouldn't make again - but he ditched the snowshoes to give himself better mobility. "This was no animal attack." he said definitively, motioning to catch Kane's attention. "Got a track here. And some spoor." he pointed out.
Marie had landed, her shivers having nothing to with the cold or the storm's building intensity. She felt guilty at the relief she'd experienced when she realized none of the dead men were Twoyoungman. Of course, the viciousness of the attack that had ended the RCMP officer's lives combined with the brutal weather didn't give much hope for him. "Then let's follow it. 'bout how long ago did this happen?"
"Who knows? With the cold, it could have been three hours ago, or thirty." Kane paused and stepped carefully into the midst of the carnage, reaching down and unclipping the badges from each of the mangled jackets. He pocketed them before stepping away and following Logan.
It was a somber walk, following the diminuative X-Man through the snow, as the wind began to whip up around them. Somehow Logan was able to keep the track, even with the wind and snow lashing at their faces. Heather trudged silently behind Marie, who had been grounded by the storm, least she lose sight of them on the ground. The trail wound to the edge of the woods, leading out into the unsheltered plain beyond. A rocky hill to the west offered the chance of respite, but the trail had turned north instead, as if headed for the higher tundra.
Heather waved at Logan to stop. The snow was almost blinding, frothed into a whiteout that left visibility down to metres. Hudson was about to advise waiting for the storm to die down before heading north on the plain. With the wide open expanse, Marie's flight capabilities would let her see for miles, and they could more intelligently direct their search, however, before she was able to explain, Logan's head suddenly whipped around in alert, and a second later, they were scattered by a force smashed down straight in the middle of their rough circle.
It was a huge, shaggy mountain of a creature, easily twice the height of any of them. It had long rangy arms and legs, crouching down and openly splayed as if to welcome them. The barrel shaped body and shoulders seem to grow into the low browed head without benefit of a neck. The creature was covered in shaggy white fur, long and matted, blending it in with the snow. The only colours visible were his massive mouth of yellow fangs, and the deep red glow of both eyes, as it flicked between them. It spread hangs tipped with massive claws and roared, splitting the growl of the storm without effort.
"Wweeeeeeeeeennddiigggoooooooooooooo!"
The worst thing about the nightmere before them was the charnel stench; the smell of death, the rot of flesh and blood permeated it, and fouled the air around them. With a single swipe of one massive arm, it scattered them, moving impossibly fast through the storm around them.
Kane lept to one side, and then jumped as the creature went past, using his own heightened reflexes to try and keep up with it. He grabbed a handful of fur and pulled himself on the the thing's back, looping his arms around the head to hang on. With one arm he hammered down one, and then another and another blows that would have crushed a car, but the creature didn't seem to notice. Garrison could feel his grip loosening, and reached on either side of the creature's head.
"Goodnight, you bastard." He growled, turning on his neural emitters with his palms pressed right against its head. Again, the creature seemed to ignore it, even as Kane cranked up the volume. Finally, with a grimace, Kane switched them over to drain his power; a level that was easily lethal to a human being. His teeth clenched as first the fur and then his hands caught fire from the torrent of energy channeling through them.
The creature finally took notice, but instead of crashing down into a coma, it reached up like a man scratching his back, sinking four claws deep into Kane's back and ripping him from his perch. With a long sideway toss, it flung Kane high over the woods, and he disappeared to the sound of snapping branches.
"KANE!" Logan shouted as he extended both sets of claws. He didn't bother chasing down Kane - instead, he charged right for the beastie itself.
The Wendigo turned with blinding speed, swiping low and catching Logan's side. His claws dug deep and tore, lashing out three deep furrows from the mutant's side, only the adamantium stopping him from ripping out the side of ribcage at the time. Blood arced across the snow and fur, the impact sending him staggering.
Logan had, as far as he could recall, only been hurt like that once before. Still, he'd heal the wound up eventually. And the more this beastie was tangoing with him, the less it would be ripping apart Marie. Or Gar.
Or Heather.
But damn, this thing was _fast_. Logan feinted for the thing's knee and then went high, looking to drive three claws into the thing's solar plexus. He ignored his own ripped muscles tearing further, the leather of his uniform soaking up his blood and viscera.
The creature seemed to ignore the claws, leaning into the claws further and slamming his massive jaws down on his shoulder. Again the metal lacing his bones saved the limb, but the fangs savaged the muscles, and he shook Logan's blow off like a ragdoll. He tossed the badly damaged man to the side and turned into the storm.
Marie could barely see, between the tears streaming down her face and the snow whirling around her. The one thing she could do was smell - it was impossible to ignore the stentch coming from the beast and despite her desire to go after Logan, she knew he would heal. The creature had to be stopped. So again she dove towards him, her fist crashing into the side of it's head.
Despite all her great strength, the blow seemed barely to faze it. The creature moved with terrible speed, grabbed her around the waist in one giant paw. It wrenched her close, the carnel reek washing over her, and sniffed, as if puzzled. The maw opened with another ear-splitting roar, as it bit down on her head.
Marie's nose wrinkled automatically and she fought the beast's grasp on her. "Ah'm not an hor doeuvre," she grunted as she tried to pry the Wendigo's jaw from her head.
The beast shook its head back and forth, snapping Marie around like a limp noodle. It finally couldn't make the jaws touch, and wrenched Marie from his mouth. It one long movement, it pulled her over his head and slammed her down hard enough to crack her into the frozen ground.
If Marie had been a normal girl, she would've been killed by the Wendigo the instant its jaws clamped around her scalp. Even with her invulnerability, being slammed into the hard earth after having been chewed on for a solid chunk of time was somewhat of a stunning blow. As Marie tried vainly to struggle against the frozen earth she had been impaled into, the Wendigo's howl filled the air.
Following the Wendigo's devestating ambush, Kane comes to and find Twoyoungman, along with what is actually going on here.
Garrison came to suddenly, sitting bolt upright from where he had been sprawled on the ground and regretting it immediately. Black lights exploded behind his eyes, almost as painful as the fire in his hands. Kane rolled over, plunging both hands into the snow in a vain attempt to quench the pain. Using his emitters normally caused nothing worst than a tingle in his palms, but by cutting out the limiters and using all the power in a single blow, his flesh had literally caught fire in the wake of energy, burning them badly.
All around him was littered with bits of wood; the shattered remains of branches and the occasional small tree that had literally exploded at the speed which he hit them. Blood oozed down his back as well, from the claw punctures, but fortunately, his heavy winter clothes had blunted the impact somewhat.
After a few minutes, the pain receded enough for him to look around. He couldn't guess how far he'd been flung, but the clearing was no where to be seen. Garrison could make out the side of the rocky hill, extended upwards as one of the few landmarks and grudgingly, he got to his feet and staggered towards it. If he followed the base, it would get him to the plain again, and he could find out what happened to the others. He carefully killed any thoughts that he might be the only one left.
Garrison hadn't gone far, pausing to pick up more snow to numb his hands, when he caught sight of a cave, little more than a slash in the rock. What marked it were the trees out front; pulled down and smashed, hacked to pieces like an enraged troop of woodsman had come through. He stepped over the pieces carefully, his hands tucked into his armpits, and caught the smell of burning herbs as he approached.
There were things hanging from the top of the cave, like primitive dreamcatchers, rotating lazily. He peered into the gloom, looking to see if any one or any thing was sheltering there. He didn't expect the sudden apparition with the twisted face that leaped up.
"Quviasuktunga tamaaniinnama malikkassik! Quv-- Kane? Is that you, boy?"
Garrison had reeled back, unbalanced, and fell on his ass at the mouth of the cave. He stared as the creature reached up and pulled away the twisted mask. "Joseph? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
"Oh, stop whining, boy. You've got the heart of an elephant. Brains too. What are you doing out here? Quick, inside before it comes back." Kane let him grab his forearm, and stumbled gratefully into the cave. It was small, but two small oil fires lit the interior and trapped the warm. The floor of the cave was a mat of pine needles, worn soft by sleeping bodies and spongy from the depth of them.
"What is this place?"
"Inuit birth caul. When they are hunting off of the flows, the women gather in areas like this until the migration is done." Joseph Twoyoungman hobbled over, only now letting Kane notice that the man's leg was bent oddly, and the jeans under his fanciful outfit were dyed black with blood. "Look at those hands? Here. Put that on. I wish I had something stronger."
Kane cupped the jar that Joseph handed him and set it on the ground. He'd seen the magical properties of Twoyoungman's salves before. "Joseph, what's going on here?"
Twoyoungman sighed. "Bad magic, Kane. The worst kind. You shouldn't have gotten mixed up in this."
"There was this creature, this animal like a--"
"The Wendigo. It's not an animal, Kane. It's a spirit. A tuurngaq-- ah, why bother with the Inuit name. You white people can never pronounce it properly anyways."
"It's a ghost?"
"No, listen. A tuurngaq is an untied spirit; not like a human, or animal spirit. Even not like a spirit of the land. Those represent physical things in our world... a turrngaq represents ideas, emotions; things that are intangible and changing. Most of them are harmless, but some... well, some are from the darker side of human nature."
"And that's this Wendigo?"
"One of the worst. The Wendigo is a creature of death and violence. It represents the violence of the hunt without the life elements of food and honour it brings. There had been a teenager missing from Arviat a few weeks ago, with a strange totemic items found in his room. I knew it was someone trying to link him with a turrngaq, but this..." Twoyoungman took the bottle from Kane and began to carefully apply it. "By the time I realized it, the Wendigo was already on me. It broke my leg before I could force it back. Finding this cave saved my life."
"How?" Garrison asked, trying not to marvel as the salve fought back the deep red of his hands, accelerating the healing process.
"The Wendigo is a creature of death. It can't enter a place of life like this. Since then, its been circling around, waiting for me to try and run. I was starting to consider it myself, as opposed to starving to death."
"Look, I brought Logan and Marie with me. We can get you out once we find a way to take down the Wendigo."
"Kane, you can't just take down the Wendigo, boy. It's not fully of this world or the next. The only way to get rid of it once it has manifested in through a ritual that pulls it completely into this realm. Then, it can be killed mind you, it'll still be a giant, powerful clawed demon, but at least you can hurt it." Twoyoungman rummaged into his medicine bag for a moment, and pulled out a complex looking totem, lashed together with thongs of hide. "You said Marie is here? The key to the Wendigo is that it carries the storm with it. The darkness covers it, hides it from manifestation. If we can get this up into the sunlight while close enough to start the invocation, it should work."
"If not?"
"Hopefully he spends long enough gnawing on your head that I can hobble away."
"Comforting."
"Just give me a hand, boy." Joseph said, letting Kane take his weight by draping him over one shoulder. "How did you three find my trail?"
"Four. Heather had your last known position."
"Heather is here?"
"Yes."
"Get moving, now." Twoyoungman's face was urgent. "The Wendigo is drawn to women. There's a cruelty in the spirit that compels it. Marie's invulnerable, which means she's not going to put out the proper smell. But Heather? It'll go for her first."
Garrison didn't say anything, heading across the snow as fast as possible.
The Wendigo meets the Wolverine.
The weather was shit and getting shittier, Gar had been ejected to God-only-knew where, Marie was ... somewhere in this fucking mess, and the beastie was stalking Heather. Logan peered through the whiteout conditions, hoping to get something - anything - that would help. He circled the storm, trying very deliberately to not concentrate on his worries, not to go sick with worry about Heather, Marie, or Gar.
He had to let the animal out.
Less than a hundred metres away was Heather, but she might as well have been miles for all they could see or communicate in the lashing snow. She'd been forced to run when the creature had first jumped them, attacking Marie and Logan, and taking Kane out of the fight in the first few minutes. Since then, she'd been stumbling through the knee deep snow, trying to find a place that she could put her back to a rock or a tree and hole up. In the midst of the icy maelstrom, that opprotunity had not yet appeared.
There was something following her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in ancient reflex, and she turned while still trying to force her way through the snow. A shadow, hulking and deliberate formed slowly against the world forced white around her, and two glowing red eyes pierced the gloom.
"Weeeeeeennddiiggooooooooo!" The same, long, gravelly howl ripping through the storm's noise. Heather stumbled, falling to her knees. She scrabbled into her pack, looking for the taser that Mac had passed over to her just in case, but after seeing Kane's neural emitters fail, there wasn't any hope in the device. Just the need to die fighting, if that was the only choice left for her.
The Wendigo stepped forward, arms and claws wide, and slaver frozen in drips around the massive, toothy maw as it stood over her, ready to feed.
Logan wasn't going to let that happen. His uniform in tatters, his exposed extremities already fighting against the waxy greyness of frostbite, his rational mind shoved into a dark place of pain. The Wolverine came out of the storm and howled his own challenge, claiming Heather as his own.
The beast paused, and sniffed the air for a moment. The challenge was implicit, as the creature turned and charged, Heather momentarily forgotton. The redheaded woman scrambled back to her feet, trying to put some distance between herself and the battle.
Wolverine met the charge with one of his own. This was a battle of will as much as it was one of muscle and bone. He ducked under the beast's first swipe and cut loose with his own claws, looking for the soft underbelly.
His claws rent huge tears, but as they cleared the fur, the damage seemed to just disappear, as if they had never existed. A heavy blow rang off the side of Logan's skull, mashing him into the snow.
The Wolverine growled as he laboriously climbed back to his feet. The Beast would not surrender, would not stand down. If the beast would not spell its belly upon the ground, perhaps tearing out its throat might work. If he could get to it.
Marie, Joseph, and Kane try to complete the ritual to stop the Wendigo, before he and Logan kill each other.
"The Wendigo is out there. It's found Heather."
"How can you tell?"
"You going to doubt this magic, boy? Come on. Marie!" Twoyoungman's deep voice cut through the storm, mystically aided. "Marie! Get out here, girl! You're needed!"
From under the drift of snow that the Wendigo had pounded her into, Twoyoungman's voice broke through.
And the cry for help was enough to give Marie the extra push she needed to bounce out of the snow, a scream erupting from her throat. Shooting over to Twoyoungmen, her face grew pale as he again explained the Wendigo's draw to Heather. The shaman reached into his bag and pulled out an object.
"The Wendigo is an enemy of shadow and spirit. Light is the nemesis. If you can get its blood essence onto the fetish, and take it out of the cover of the storm, where the light can reach it, it will bring the creature totally into the physical realm, where it can be killed. Until then, even the most horrible wounds while disappear as it shifts constantly between spirit and physical realms."
With that, she was gone, flying through the snow in the direction she thought Heather was in...it didn't take long for a horrible smell to reach her nose and she adjusted her flight to go towards it.
Clutching the fetish tightly in one hand, she dove towards the Wendigo as it came into her line of sight. The quicker she could follow Twoyoungman's directive, the sooner this would all be over. Too much blood had already been shed and she wasn't about to see Heather's spilled as well.
The Wendigo was engaged in a fierce battle with Logan, the two of them battering mercilessly at each other. There was little of Logan's uniform left, and his skin bore horrible rents that it tried to heal. He was scoring regular hits on the white-furred demon, claws leaving terrible gashes which disappeared seconds later in a futile attempt to hurt it. All of Logan's body movement and attacks were wrong; primal and brute, looking to do nothing else but get something by the throat and hurt it badly. Marie had seen it before, a savage rage where the man inside Logan all but disappeared, and the beast took over.
He wouldn't recognize her in that rage, wouldn't stop until he'd worn himself out. And the Wendigo would still be standing when he reached that point. This has to end. Gritting her teeth together, she twisted through the snow and wind, faster than she ever had before. Reaching the pair locked in battle, she forced herself to ignore her friend. She'd help Logan later. Right now she needed to wait for him to score a hit.
It didn't take long. Claws pierced skin and drops of the Wendigo's blood dripped ever so slowly out. A quick swipe with the fetish and the first part of her task was complete.
The Wolverine could smell the girl-human but he was overwhelmed by the white-furred thing in front of him. Each hit he scored was healed in seconds, whereas the beast's claws cut terrible rends in his body each time they got past his guard. If he could just get in close enough he'd tear its throat out, burrow in past the ribs to feast on its still-beating heart. White-thing had hurt Wolverine and hurt him badly.
During the battle, it becomes a question whether defeating the Wendigo means losing Logan forever.
Joseph had said the fetish needed sunlight to work, and in the midst of the storm, the fastest way to reach it was up. She took off into the sky, fighting up and above the unnatural storm. As she broke free of the winds, the fetish in her hands grew warm, as if drinking in the light. It because to pump the energy back out, suffused with a golden light.
As the fetish glowed, the storm began to abate, once fierce winds tapering off into a more gentle breeze. The Wendigo paused to look up towards where Marie hovered. It was then that the Wolverine struck again, without pity or remorse, into the neck of the beast. Where wounds had once disappeared as the Wendigo flickered inbetween the physical and spirit worlds, now the adamantium claws bit deep into flesh, and ripped sideways, opening up a bloody gash. The creature staggered, bright red blood splashing down the matted fur and into the snow. Again and again the claws plunged into the Wendigo, until with a final bubbling roar, it crashed face first to the ground.
Before their eyes, the form seemed to change, the charnel scent dissipating and the shaggy fur growing particlized. As the winds touched it, the form of the Wendigo began to evaporate, carrying away in tiny snowflakes on the wind, as the drift came apart. In the centre of the mound lay a man, facedown. His skin was covered in blood, turned dry and brown with age, but still recognizable as native symbols painted on his flesh. His own body was seemingly unharmed, somehow cocooned from the terrible damage that Wolverine had inflicted on the Wendigo.
Joseph hobbled over to the man, reaching down to check him, as Marie and Garrison stood in front, watching Logan were he twitched, still overflowing from the rage inside him. They were about to move when a hand on each shoulder stopped them. Heather stepped past them, walking in front of Logan without the slightest trace of fear. It was easy to forget Heather Hudson's past. She wasn't much past thirty, and her looks were easily those of a woman a decade younger. But years ago, she'd found a way to reach past a vast lake of pain and madness in a feral man found in the woods, more animal than man, and reach his humanity enough to draw it out. That same streak of iron will was kindred in them both.
"Logan," She said, soft and calm. "It's over. It's all over now. Time to come back." Heather raised one hand and beckoned him. "Time to come home, Logan."
Wolverine just stood there, panting, claws dripping blood. He could tell the female was making mouth-noises but they were unimportant. Only the smell of her blood, the bloodthirst within him, was important. Not even the stinking machine male and the other female mattered. As he stood there watching her with the flat eyes of a predator, the wounds on his body continued to knit themselves closed, the muscles knotting and the flesh sprouting over them to seal the wounds closed with no trace of a scar.
Heather stepped forward, within easy striking distance of Logan, and laid a hand flat on his bloodied chest. "Time to come home, Logan." She repeated.
Wolverine flinched at that touch, and the muscles in his arms corded as he fought against himself. His instincts said to kill, to drop this female where she stood and go loping back into the wilderness, find a pack, hunt, mate, _live_.
But he didn't. He just looked at the female with a blank look, not understanding but not caving into instinct either. Then, suddenly, the claws retracted, slamming home with a snakt.
"That's right." Heather smiled at him. "You're home."
In the post-mission briefing, Minister MacDonald clears up a lot of Kane's outstanding questions, and provides some much needed perspective before sending him back with Marie to the X-Men.
“He’s decided to stay?”
“That’s right. It’s best for him right now.” Heather sighed, running her hands through her hair. They hadn’t been back for more than a few hours, long enough to change clothes and go to the conference room to meet the minister. Logan was down resting, with Marie watching over him. During the entire trip back, he’d looked caged, on a thin line between flight and fight. “We’ve been through this before with Logan. He’s strong, Kane. Considering how far he came back from last time, he’ll make it through this too. Mac and I will keep a close eye on him, and between Joseph’s talks and Eugene running him ragged when the violence seeps too close to the surface, he’ll find the balance again.”
“I’ll be here too. I can keep him level.” Kane nodded.
“What makes you think that you’ll be here? You’re going back to Xavier’s.”
“Um, what?”
“Just wait for the Minister.” Heather sat back in her chair, waiting.
“I assumed that I was being pulled from Xavier’s. After the… incident.”
“You really are just a beard with an idiot attached to it, aren’t you? Wait for him.”
Kane lapsed into a sullen silence, as Heather ignored him, flipping through a stack of paperwork. It wasn’t long before they both heard MacDonald’s voice in the hall. The naturally loud and gregarious minister was greeting people in the hall like old friends, typical of his nature.
“Good afternoon. Heather! Good to see you, of course. Inspector Kane.” Minister MacDonald pointed at him, with a regarding look. “You’ve been waiting. That’s good. It shows some dedication; commitment. We like commitment. Are there muffins?”
“Minister, it’s—what? No. No muffins. I could call down to the cafeteria.”
“There is this little place down by the river that makes the best muffins. They make this tarte tatin and brioche souris that absolutely melted in your mouth. The cafeteria? Non, I think not.” MacDonald paused and took a seat. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I’m assuming I’m about to be re-assigned?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Considering how the Director has been acting, I just assumed that I’d either be going back to the RCMP, or should be looking for work in the food service industry.” Kane said.
“Is this about the space laser?” MacDonald said, and was rewarded with an open mouthed gape from Kane. “Oh, you didn’t know we knew? Our counterparts in the US administration quietly let us in on the details. There’s so much inter-agency connection, that a very small and select few of us were informed of the details.”
“So then… why was the Director—I mean…” Kane sputtered, clearly flummoxed. He’d never been flummoxed before, and was finding the archaic condition to entirely too uncomfortable.
“Malcolm obviously believes he’s testing you. He takes these things so seriously, we like to humour him. How about pain aux noix?”
“Minister…” Heather said, pleadingly.
“Of course. Yes, oui, Inspector. We knew about the incident not long past you returned here after suffering your injury. You look conflicted, Inspector. Is it because we knew or because you didn’t tell us first?” MacDonald gave him a flat look. “You are worried about the conflicted loyalties, that in protecting Xavier’s you’ve somehow violated your oaths to the Canadian government.”
It was the second time in as many moments that Kane was left speechless.
“Miss Hudson, do you trust the Inspector? Good, so do I.” The Minister said. “Inspector Kane, you were not selected out of a hat. You were chosen because we trust you. We trust you to make judgment calls on the information that you need to share, and information that you cannot. Inspector, with both the X-Men and the FBI, you are being involved in government issues that comprise conditions of national security for the United States. Did we put you into this position to spy on the United States? We didn’t, and they wouldn’t stand for it.”
“I don’t understand.” Garrison protested. “Sir, with the X-Men, I’m in a position where I can’t always maintain those oaths. I made a commitment, to the country and to the force, and I don’t know if I can do that honestly. I’m not even sure I understand what I should be doing there. What the X-Men do is important, but… I don’t know if I’m right there. They’re isolated, used to being above the law when necessary. I might be just the wrong kind of person for that, especially when I don’t know if they’re not potentially achieving the exact opposite of what they are intending to do.”
Minister MacDonald paused, and turned to Heather. “Miss Hudson, can you give us a minute?” He waited for her to leave and close the door behind her. Once she did, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pair of cigars. He carefully cut them both and passed one over to Kane, lighting them.
“I think they thank you for not smoking in here.”
“Why? They don’t know what I’m intending.” He took a draw from the cigar and blew out a smoke ring. “Inspector Kane, your choice for this assignment was based on your ability to understand what is important to pass along, and what is important to withhold. Seriously, you’re a boy scout in some ways; you need to believe something, which means that your belief in this country and your place in it ensures that you will not withhold something that is vital to us. It’s a very important distinction.”
MacDonald blew a second smoke ring, and smiled. “I had the pleasure of meeting Charles Xavier at a conference, oh, ten years ago. I was struck by how remarkable a man he was; intelligent, honest, and most importantly, sincere. He believes what he says, with every fibre of his being. Don’t confuse that with him being somehow naïve, Inspector. Or unobservant. He doesn’t need to have you on his team for our agreement with him. He doesn’t need to have you in his home, around his students and staff, or anything more than the occasional drop-in visitor to get everything from us we’ve offered. But he has. Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because a man as smart as Xavier, with a psychological understand as deep as his, understands what’s going on in his own house. He believes in integration, but isolates his staff and students in a walled mansion. Why is that? Because maybe he understands stages; how to introduce things a shock at a time. His X-Men are run and led by two people who have literally only known life from that mansion and ideology since they were children. His school is a refuge, that can give people a bunker-like skew to their perspective, full of people who have been ignored or failed by the law. You think it’s an accident that he not only accepted, but openly welcomed Inspector Garrison Kane of the RCMP, who grew up a normal middle class existence in West Toronto, into that group without thinking about the impact.”
“I—I never considered that.”
“No, but we did.” The Minister took another draw, looking reflectively at him. “I think Xavier welcomed you because he’s aware that from his influence, people are willing to give him their loyalty unquestioningly. Where as you will always questions, always wonder, and that makes his own people think, even if just to defend his decisions. You’re from the outside, Inspector, and you don’t owe him anything. I think that’s why he’s been so willing to take you in with the rest, so they struggle to define what it is they do, rather than blindly trusting him. You’re part of how he keeps questioning himself, and understanding the perspective of the outside world on his decisions.”
Minister MacDonald made sense, although it was his words that made Kane realize how little he had considered Xavier’s decisions with the school being pre-meditated. He believed in the sincerity and morality of the man, but hadn’t considered his ability up until now.
“You’re an essentially human perspective in a mutant world in that mansion, Inspector. If you can integrate, well, that means the whole world can too.” MacDonald took a puff, enjoying his cigar immensely. “So lighten up, man, eh? You’re there because the day you can’t accept keeping a secret, you’ll leave. We trust that. I think Xavier trusts that you believe in him, even if you question the methods at times. That’s good. Makes him consider his methods regularly; to adapt and change. There’s too much power there for any kind of blind obedience to be healthy, and I’ll bet he knows it.”
“You want me to go back?”
“Oui, as much as I think you want to go back. He’s a smart man, and there are people there to help him not just as X-Men. You might be one of them. It’s valuable. It’s important. To all of us.”
“I can’t really say no to that.”
“Not without losing your pension, no.” Minister MacDonald got up and dusted off his coat. “Now come on. Let’s find a drink and a place to enjoy these. There might even be muffins.”
Marie receives a phone call from Kane, asking her and Logan to come up to Canada as soon as possible. Concerned, Marie contacts Heather Hudson for clarification.
Marie tapped her foot impatiently as the phone rang several times before a familiar voice picked up. "Heather? It's Marie. What's going on?" She knew there was little point to starting the conversation with small talk. Her terse conversation with Garrison had made it apparent that something big was going on in Canada, though he hadn't actually said what beyond that some people were missing. When she'd tried to call him back, the phone had gone straight to voicemail, so she'd decided to go over his head a little.
"Marie? How did you get this number? It's an unregistered... oh wait, Kane has the security consciousness of a mildly concussed red squirral around you. Forgot that." The voice over the phone wasn't unfriendly, and Marie knew Heather long enough to recognize the stress behind it. "Did he get in touch with you?"
Heather's tone was only adding to Marie's level of concern. "Yes, but he didn't tell me much before hanging up and I haven't been able to get a hold of him since," she said, her voice tinged with worry, the words tumbling out of her. "Said someone was missing, but wouldn't give me any details, said he wanted to get a little more information since. Ah just expected him to call back soon. Unless something is seriously wrong." Marie finally took a breath and waited anxiously for Heather's response.
"Something might be wrong. That's the trouble. We don't really know." Heather sighed. "Joseph's been up north again, and he's dropped out of sight. That's not completely uncommon, but we had an issue we needed to talk to him about and we can't reach him. I'm worried."
"How long has he been gone now?" she asked. "And what's the secondary issue?" Marie leaned her head slightly to cradle the phone on her shoulder, walking to her closet to pull out a suitcase.
Something might be wrong. That's the trouble. We don't really know." Heather sighed. "Joseph's been up north again, and he's dropped out of sight. That's not completely uncommon, but we had an issue we needed to talk to him about and we can't reach him. I'm worried."
"How long has he been gone now?" she asked. "And what's the secondary issue?" Marie leaned her head slightly to cradle the phone on her shoulder, walking to her closet to pull out a suitcase.
"Three days. Secondary issue is something departmental. The main issue is that three days out of touch above the Artic Circle; if he's been hurt, it doesn't take long for exposure to take its toll up there."
"So has anyone gone and physically looked for him?" she asked as she opened drawers and started tossing sweaters, gloves, and other clothes into the bag. "Ah mean, Ah'm guessing yes or y'all wouldn't be so worried."
"An RCMP detachment. We just lost contact with them." Her voice was grim.
Marie swallowed hard. "How long ago?"
"A few hours. I asked for a situation report, and Arviat couldn't raise them. I'd like to bring you and Logan up, potentially to intervene if we can't get them back on the radio."
"We'll be there as soon as we can," she said, feeling that she could speak for Logan. Zipping up her bag, she snapped her phone shut, eyes closing as she slipped it into her pocket. She gave herself a moment, only one, to let the worry flow through her. Then she pushed it away and ran towards Logan's room.
Arriving in Canada, they are briefed on Joseph Twoyoungman's disappearance, and asked to help locate him.
Marie sat rigidly in the chair in the conference room, waiting for Garrison and Heather to join her and Logan. Garrison's call to the pair hadn't been detailed, but Heather's request that she and Logan had made their way to Toronto as quickly as possible about Joseph's disappearence was enough. After all, a request for them to meet surely meant he was in some kind of unique trouble. All her attempts to contact Garrison on the drive up had gone straight to voicemail, and Logan's attempts at reassurance had fallen on deaf ears as Marie continued to stew in her own thoughts, thinking up worst case scenarios for why they had been asked to come North.
Garrison walked in and at the other side of the table. He looked grim; remote. The beard was a surprise, covering his scarred throat and making him look far more his father's son. In all, there was something changed about him, although the situation didn't make anything clear as to the reason. The fact he didn't come to say anything to Marie before the meeting was surprising; it was his professional face on, as hard as anything she'd seen from Logan or Nate.
Heather wore her own concern openly, tossing her notes on the table. Her light red hair was mussed, like it had been freed from a ponytail only moments before. That meant she'd been working constantly; one of the little signals that was quickly picked up during an Alpha Flight tenure.
"Logan, Marie. Thank you for coming up. I wish it was under better circumstances."
"Any time, darlin'." Logan said. "Now you wanna quit dancin' and tell us what the hell's goin' on here? Everyone here's actin' real spooked, like something big just popped onto the radar."
"Nothing big, at least we hope." Heather said, pressing both hands down against the tabletop. "Joseph's been doing some work north of the Artic Circle. I don't pretend to understand it, but it had something to do with areas where the Cree and the Inuit challenged for control, and how the magical spirits of the two cultures intermeshed. In any case, normally we wouldn't have even worried about him dropping off the map while he's working on these sorts of cases. Native magic involves a lot of remote locations and rituals that you can't take time out to check your Blackberry during."
"He's always made arrangements before, in case of emergencies." Kane said finally.
"That's why we're worried. We had a paranormal incident outside of Calgery we deemed important enough to contact him about. That was four days ago. It was then we started to get alarmed. The local RCMP force dispatched a team to Joseph's last known camp. We haven't been able to re-establish contact with them in the last thirty-two hours."
"That's not like him at all," Marie said, thinking of the man who had helped her regain her sanity. "What was the last contact he did make?"
"Something about a missing local teenager and hints of magical interference. Before we get into anything worrisome, I'd like to point out that Twoyoungman is currently the most powerful documented... I guess shaman or practictioner of magic arts recorded in Canada to date. He's the outlier, so we're not considering cults or rival mages or anything out of the back pages of the Toronto Sun yet." Heather held up her hands. "It's been a wet winter near Arviat this years; lots of snow, lots of storms. That's the reason that I asked you to come up. While this could be something more sinister, especially considering the missing RCMP detachment, the most likely answer is that he's been trapped somewhere or cut off by the weather. Between Marie's flight and strength, and your senses, Logan, there isn't a faster rescue party we can put together. If its something else, I trust you to be able to handle it, but the important thing is that even if its as simple as a broken leg and a snowed in camp, its been three days in an Artic winter. We need to find him and those Mounties fast."
"We'll need a medic." Logan pointed out, kicking up his boots onto the table. "And foul weather gear. If Joey's laid up somewhere and all fucked up, having someone to put him together might be a real good idea."
"Walter is going to set up a base of operations in Arviat's hospital. He and Mac have been working on more portable designs for some medical scanning equipment, and he wants to use Arviat as a test of their portability. Most of the community has to be flown down to Winnipeg for advanced diagonsis, so, well, you know Walt." Heather sighed. "Once we find him and the Mounties, we'll use helicoptors to get them to Arviat, weather permitting, or drive them out. The Canadian military is up keeping that highway clear, so we'll have a fast run once we're out of the bush."
"How bad is the weather?" Garrison leaned forward, hands loosely clasped.
"Bad enough. And getting worse. Supplies are being assembled as we speak. Unless there's anything else, there's a jet waiting for us."
Marie had risen to her feet before the words were even out of Heather's mouth. "Let's get to it then." There wasn't any time to waste, not with the storm increasing in strength and Twoyoungmen and the other Mounties out there in whatever kind of condition they were.
Arriving in the Artic, they pick up on Twoyoungman's tracks, and follow it into the woods with a storm brewing.
"Here's where they started on foot." Kane pointed to the tracks in the snow. They were about a hundred kilometers west of Arviat, where they had dropped off Walt to set up a command post at the local hospital. Arviat, in the south of the Kivalliq region, only held about two thousand people, and Walt had brought some additional equipment along to provide medical examinations for those in the community who were on wait times for other facilities. Heather, after insisting she would not wait back with Walt, had rented a large jeep and they had set out towards the last check in by the RCMP patrol. There they found their vehicle, untouched but empty, parked at the edge of a large and snowy pine forest.
It had just gone minus twenty as they stepped out of the car, thankful for the heavy winter gear the RCMP detechment had insisted on them wearing.
"Into the forest? Why?"
"Obviously that's where Twoyoungman had been headed." Kane said. The forest was sparse by Canadian standards; a low Artic sprawl of trees, shorter and less closed in then the more southern strands, and as a result, the snow lay deep and piled between the trunks. Kane took one look and went around to unpack the snowshoes.
Logan took one look at the snow and cursed resoundingly. He was heavier than most folks due to all the metal grafted to his bones and banks this deep would really slow his progress, even with snowshoes. "Weather's getting nasty." he said, looking up at the sky. "Doesn't make any fuckin' sense. Winds don't run like this this time of year." he groused. "Didn't know better, I'd say Remy'd pissed off 'Ro or something."
"Joseph has manipulated the weather before." Heather said, although looking unconvinced. There was something menacing about the scrub forest and the deepening banks of snow. It wasn't the bleakness of the environment, rather the sense of impending dread. She shivered into her heavy coat.
"If that's the case, it means he's out there, eh?" Kane pointed out, strapping the shoes to his feet.
Marie smiled at Garrison, despite her own concerns, having needed to hear someone say something optimistic. "Exactly," she said, surveying the area from where she hovered an inch above the snowy ground. "So now we just gotta find him and remind him that disappearing without telling someone why is a silly thing ta do."
"Yer assumin' he had a choice." he said, getting his own snowshoes on. Wider than most, to help compensate for his additional weight. They gave his gait a rather comical straddle-legged appearance. "RCMP teams don't just disappear. Shaman don't just disappear. I don't like it." he growled.
Kane eyed the dark shadows the trees cast. "I hate to say it, but I think the Old Man is right. Something stinks about all this."
"And you standing here making ominious comments is helping, Inspector." Heather said, already starting to trudge forward.
"Hey Marie, have you ever noticed how old Heather looks for her age? Like, much older than she should?" Kane said, ignoring the middle finger she flipped at him without pausing or looking back. Kane sighed and started to trudge after her.
Logan pulled ahead, sniffing the breezes as he walked. "Something's got the local wildlife spooked. Not getting much of anything nearby." he said, then looked up at the angry and threatening sky. "Might have somethin' to do with it."
"We should get moving before it hits." Heather shrugged her coat settled. There had been some objections to her coming, which she had ended with a firm 'deal with it' in response. In many ways, Heather Hudson was as unmovable as Cain. "Logan, can you pick up Joseph or the RCMP officers trail? Marie, can you provide us with some overhead perspective?" She tossed a headset mic over to the female mutant. "Might as well take advantage of the visibility as long as it lasts."
"On it," Marie said, catching the headset one handed and securing it on her head before pushing herself higher above the ground. Every way she looked, she saw a vast expanse of white. "Think Ah might shoot around in a couple directions to get a better view. Gonna be hard to find anything in this."
"Don't go too far, kid. I don't like this." Logan reiterated, then crouched down to catch the low, heavy scents that hadn't yet been absorbed or dispelled by the snow. He sat like that for a few moments, sniffing. "Got something. Faint, but this way." he said, heading off into the forest.
They discover the fate of the RCMP detachment originally tasked to find Joseph, and come face to face with a creature none of them have ever seen.
Between Logan's senses and Marie's aerial reconnaissance, it didn't take long to locate the trail of the missing RCMP detail. Much of their path had been snowed under, but they had been marking their trail with ribboned pitons into the trees. The last one was found in a thick strand that screened the upcoming clearing from those on the ground.
But Marie's sudden silence and the scent of blood was enough to know what was ahead.
The bodies were lying in various twisted poses, as if they'd been disjointed prior to falling to the ground. The ground around them was thick with frozen blood ice, and snow had bleached all the other colours to white.
Kane moved forward carefully. This was a crime scene, but more importantly, it was also fellow officers from the force. Long before Garrison had been an X-Men, he'd been a Mountie, and his identity with them ran deep. Careful not to disturb anything, Kane circled the bodies, looking for evidence. When he finally looked up, his face was carefully blank.
"These are bite marks."
"Animals? Like wolves or polar bears?"
"Not unless we're growing ones the size of a Great White." Kane pointed to one body, where the man had been eviscerated, and a large bite out of his torso flesh and intestines had been taken.
Logan almost puked his guts up, the stenches at this place were so thick. He knew enough to stay out of Kane's crime scene - that was a mistake he wouldn't make again - but he ditched the snowshoes to give himself better mobility. "This was no animal attack." he said definitively, motioning to catch Kane's attention. "Got a track here. And some spoor." he pointed out.
Marie had landed, her shivers having nothing to with the cold or the storm's building intensity. She felt guilty at the relief she'd experienced when she realized none of the dead men were Twoyoungman. Of course, the viciousness of the attack that had ended the RCMP officer's lives combined with the brutal weather didn't give much hope for him. "Then let's follow it. 'bout how long ago did this happen?"
"Who knows? With the cold, it could have been three hours ago, or thirty." Kane paused and stepped carefully into the midst of the carnage, reaching down and unclipping the badges from each of the mangled jackets. He pocketed them before stepping away and following Logan.
It was a somber walk, following the diminuative X-Man through the snow, as the wind began to whip up around them. Somehow Logan was able to keep the track, even with the wind and snow lashing at their faces. Heather trudged silently behind Marie, who had been grounded by the storm, least she lose sight of them on the ground. The trail wound to the edge of the woods, leading out into the unsheltered plain beyond. A rocky hill to the west offered the chance of respite, but the trail had turned north instead, as if headed for the higher tundra.
Heather waved at Logan to stop. The snow was almost blinding, frothed into a whiteout that left visibility down to metres. Hudson was about to advise waiting for the storm to die down before heading north on the plain. With the wide open expanse, Marie's flight capabilities would let her see for miles, and they could more intelligently direct their search, however, before she was able to explain, Logan's head suddenly whipped around in alert, and a second later, they were scattered by a force smashed down straight in the middle of their rough circle.
It was a huge, shaggy mountain of a creature, easily twice the height of any of them. It had long rangy arms and legs, crouching down and openly splayed as if to welcome them. The barrel shaped body and shoulders seem to grow into the low browed head without benefit of a neck. The creature was covered in shaggy white fur, long and matted, blending it in with the snow. The only colours visible were his massive mouth of yellow fangs, and the deep red glow of both eyes, as it flicked between them. It spread hangs tipped with massive claws and roared, splitting the growl of the storm without effort.
"Wweeeeeeeeeennddiigggoooooooooooooo!"
The worst thing about the nightmere before them was the charnel stench; the smell of death, the rot of flesh and blood permeated it, and fouled the air around them. With a single swipe of one massive arm, it scattered them, moving impossibly fast through the storm around them.
Kane lept to one side, and then jumped as the creature went past, using his own heightened reflexes to try and keep up with it. He grabbed a handful of fur and pulled himself on the the thing's back, looping his arms around the head to hang on. With one arm he hammered down one, and then another and another blows that would have crushed a car, but the creature didn't seem to notice. Garrison could feel his grip loosening, and reached on either side of the creature's head.
"Goodnight, you bastard." He growled, turning on his neural emitters with his palms pressed right against its head. Again, the creature seemed to ignore it, even as Kane cranked up the volume. Finally, with a grimace, Kane switched them over to drain his power; a level that was easily lethal to a human being. His teeth clenched as first the fur and then his hands caught fire from the torrent of energy channeling through them.
The creature finally took notice, but instead of crashing down into a coma, it reached up like a man scratching his back, sinking four claws deep into Kane's back and ripping him from his perch. With a long sideway toss, it flung Kane high over the woods, and he disappeared to the sound of snapping branches.
"KANE!" Logan shouted as he extended both sets of claws. He didn't bother chasing down Kane - instead, he charged right for the beastie itself.
The Wendigo turned with blinding speed, swiping low and catching Logan's side. His claws dug deep and tore, lashing out three deep furrows from the mutant's side, only the adamantium stopping him from ripping out the side of ribcage at the time. Blood arced across the snow and fur, the impact sending him staggering.
Logan had, as far as he could recall, only been hurt like that once before. Still, he'd heal the wound up eventually. And the more this beastie was tangoing with him, the less it would be ripping apart Marie. Or Gar.
Or Heather.
But damn, this thing was _fast_. Logan feinted for the thing's knee and then went high, looking to drive three claws into the thing's solar plexus. He ignored his own ripped muscles tearing further, the leather of his uniform soaking up his blood and viscera.
The creature seemed to ignore the claws, leaning into the claws further and slamming his massive jaws down on his shoulder. Again the metal lacing his bones saved the limb, but the fangs savaged the muscles, and he shook Logan's blow off like a ragdoll. He tossed the badly damaged man to the side and turned into the storm.
Marie could barely see, between the tears streaming down her face and the snow whirling around her. The one thing she could do was smell - it was impossible to ignore the stentch coming from the beast and despite her desire to go after Logan, she knew he would heal. The creature had to be stopped. So again she dove towards him, her fist crashing into the side of it's head.
Despite all her great strength, the blow seemed barely to faze it. The creature moved with terrible speed, grabbed her around the waist in one giant paw. It wrenched her close, the carnel reek washing over her, and sniffed, as if puzzled. The maw opened with another ear-splitting roar, as it bit down on her head.
Marie's nose wrinkled automatically and she fought the beast's grasp on her. "Ah'm not an hor doeuvre," she grunted as she tried to pry the Wendigo's jaw from her head.
The beast shook its head back and forth, snapping Marie around like a limp noodle. It finally couldn't make the jaws touch, and wrenched Marie from his mouth. It one long movement, it pulled her over his head and slammed her down hard enough to crack her into the frozen ground.
If Marie had been a normal girl, she would've been killed by the Wendigo the instant its jaws clamped around her scalp. Even with her invulnerability, being slammed into the hard earth after having been chewed on for a solid chunk of time was somewhat of a stunning blow. As Marie tried vainly to struggle against the frozen earth she had been impaled into, the Wendigo's howl filled the air.
Following the Wendigo's devestating ambush, Kane comes to and find Twoyoungman, along with what is actually going on here.
Garrison came to suddenly, sitting bolt upright from where he had been sprawled on the ground and regretting it immediately. Black lights exploded behind his eyes, almost as painful as the fire in his hands. Kane rolled over, plunging both hands into the snow in a vain attempt to quench the pain. Using his emitters normally caused nothing worst than a tingle in his palms, but by cutting out the limiters and using all the power in a single blow, his flesh had literally caught fire in the wake of energy, burning them badly.
All around him was littered with bits of wood; the shattered remains of branches and the occasional small tree that had literally exploded at the speed which he hit them. Blood oozed down his back as well, from the claw punctures, but fortunately, his heavy winter clothes had blunted the impact somewhat.
After a few minutes, the pain receded enough for him to look around. He couldn't guess how far he'd been flung, but the clearing was no where to be seen. Garrison could make out the side of the rocky hill, extended upwards as one of the few landmarks and grudgingly, he got to his feet and staggered towards it. If he followed the base, it would get him to the plain again, and he could find out what happened to the others. He carefully killed any thoughts that he might be the only one left.
Garrison hadn't gone far, pausing to pick up more snow to numb his hands, when he caught sight of a cave, little more than a slash in the rock. What marked it were the trees out front; pulled down and smashed, hacked to pieces like an enraged troop of woodsman had come through. He stepped over the pieces carefully, his hands tucked into his armpits, and caught the smell of burning herbs as he approached.
There were things hanging from the top of the cave, like primitive dreamcatchers, rotating lazily. He peered into the gloom, looking to see if any one or any thing was sheltering there. He didn't expect the sudden apparition with the twisted face that leaped up.
"Quviasuktunga tamaaniinnama malikkassik! Quv-- Kane? Is that you, boy?"
Garrison had reeled back, unbalanced, and fell on his ass at the mouth of the cave. He stared as the creature reached up and pulled away the twisted mask. "Joseph? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
"Oh, stop whining, boy. You've got the heart of an elephant. Brains too. What are you doing out here? Quick, inside before it comes back." Kane let him grab his forearm, and stumbled gratefully into the cave. It was small, but two small oil fires lit the interior and trapped the warm. The floor of the cave was a mat of pine needles, worn soft by sleeping bodies and spongy from the depth of them.
"What is this place?"
"Inuit birth caul. When they are hunting off of the flows, the women gather in areas like this until the migration is done." Joseph Twoyoungman hobbled over, only now letting Kane notice that the man's leg was bent oddly, and the jeans under his fanciful outfit were dyed black with blood. "Look at those hands? Here. Put that on. I wish I had something stronger."
Kane cupped the jar that Joseph handed him and set it on the ground. He'd seen the magical properties of Twoyoungman's salves before. "Joseph, what's going on here?"
Twoyoungman sighed. "Bad magic, Kane. The worst kind. You shouldn't have gotten mixed up in this."
"There was this creature, this animal like a--"
"The Wendigo. It's not an animal, Kane. It's a spirit. A tuurngaq-- ah, why bother with the Inuit name. You white people can never pronounce it properly anyways."
"It's a ghost?"
"No, listen. A tuurngaq is an untied spirit; not like a human, or animal spirit. Even not like a spirit of the land. Those represent physical things in our world... a turrngaq represents ideas, emotions; things that are intangible and changing. Most of them are harmless, but some... well, some are from the darker side of human nature."
"And that's this Wendigo?"
"One of the worst. The Wendigo is a creature of death and violence. It represents the violence of the hunt without the life elements of food and honour it brings. There had been a teenager missing from Arviat a few weeks ago, with a strange totemic items found in his room. I knew it was someone trying to link him with a turrngaq, but this..." Twoyoungman took the bottle from Kane and began to carefully apply it. "By the time I realized it, the Wendigo was already on me. It broke my leg before I could force it back. Finding this cave saved my life."
"How?" Garrison asked, trying not to marvel as the salve fought back the deep red of his hands, accelerating the healing process.
"The Wendigo is a creature of death. It can't enter a place of life like this. Since then, its been circling around, waiting for me to try and run. I was starting to consider it myself, as opposed to starving to death."
"Look, I brought Logan and Marie with me. We can get you out once we find a way to take down the Wendigo."
"Kane, you can't just take down the Wendigo, boy. It's not fully of this world or the next. The only way to get rid of it once it has manifested in through a ritual that pulls it completely into this realm. Then, it can be killed mind you, it'll still be a giant, powerful clawed demon, but at least you can hurt it." Twoyoungman rummaged into his medicine bag for a moment, and pulled out a complex looking totem, lashed together with thongs of hide. "You said Marie is here? The key to the Wendigo is that it carries the storm with it. The darkness covers it, hides it from manifestation. If we can get this up into the sunlight while close enough to start the invocation, it should work."
"If not?"
"Hopefully he spends long enough gnawing on your head that I can hobble away."
"Comforting."
"Just give me a hand, boy." Joseph said, letting Kane take his weight by draping him over one shoulder. "How did you three find my trail?"
"Four. Heather had your last known position."
"Heather is here?"
"Yes."
"Get moving, now." Twoyoungman's face was urgent. "The Wendigo is drawn to women. There's a cruelty in the spirit that compels it. Marie's invulnerable, which means she's not going to put out the proper smell. But Heather? It'll go for her first."
Garrison didn't say anything, heading across the snow as fast as possible.
The Wendigo meets the Wolverine.
The weather was shit and getting shittier, Gar had been ejected to God-only-knew where, Marie was ... somewhere in this fucking mess, and the beastie was stalking Heather. Logan peered through the whiteout conditions, hoping to get something - anything - that would help. He circled the storm, trying very deliberately to not concentrate on his worries, not to go sick with worry about Heather, Marie, or Gar.
He had to let the animal out.
Less than a hundred metres away was Heather, but she might as well have been miles for all they could see or communicate in the lashing snow. She'd been forced to run when the creature had first jumped them, attacking Marie and Logan, and taking Kane out of the fight in the first few minutes. Since then, she'd been stumbling through the knee deep snow, trying to find a place that she could put her back to a rock or a tree and hole up. In the midst of the icy maelstrom, that opprotunity had not yet appeared.
There was something following her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in ancient reflex, and she turned while still trying to force her way through the snow. A shadow, hulking and deliberate formed slowly against the world forced white around her, and two glowing red eyes pierced the gloom.
"Weeeeeeennddiiggooooooooo!" The same, long, gravelly howl ripping through the storm's noise. Heather stumbled, falling to her knees. She scrabbled into her pack, looking for the taser that Mac had passed over to her just in case, but after seeing Kane's neural emitters fail, there wasn't any hope in the device. Just the need to die fighting, if that was the only choice left for her.
The Wendigo stepped forward, arms and claws wide, and slaver frozen in drips around the massive, toothy maw as it stood over her, ready to feed.
Logan wasn't going to let that happen. His uniform in tatters, his exposed extremities already fighting against the waxy greyness of frostbite, his rational mind shoved into a dark place of pain. The Wolverine came out of the storm and howled his own challenge, claiming Heather as his own.
The beast paused, and sniffed the air for a moment. The challenge was implicit, as the creature turned and charged, Heather momentarily forgotton. The redheaded woman scrambled back to her feet, trying to put some distance between herself and the battle.
Wolverine met the charge with one of his own. This was a battle of will as much as it was one of muscle and bone. He ducked under the beast's first swipe and cut loose with his own claws, looking for the soft underbelly.
His claws rent huge tears, but as they cleared the fur, the damage seemed to just disappear, as if they had never existed. A heavy blow rang off the side of Logan's skull, mashing him into the snow.
The Wolverine growled as he laboriously climbed back to his feet. The Beast would not surrender, would not stand down. If the beast would not spell its belly upon the ground, perhaps tearing out its throat might work. If he could get to it.
Marie, Joseph, and Kane try to complete the ritual to stop the Wendigo, before he and Logan kill each other.
"The Wendigo is out there. It's found Heather."
"How can you tell?"
"You going to doubt this magic, boy? Come on. Marie!" Twoyoungman's deep voice cut through the storm, mystically aided. "Marie! Get out here, girl! You're needed!"
From under the drift of snow that the Wendigo had pounded her into, Twoyoungman's voice broke through.
And the cry for help was enough to give Marie the extra push she needed to bounce out of the snow, a scream erupting from her throat. Shooting over to Twoyoungmen, her face grew pale as he again explained the Wendigo's draw to Heather. The shaman reached into his bag and pulled out an object.
"The Wendigo is an enemy of shadow and spirit. Light is the nemesis. If you can get its blood essence onto the fetish, and take it out of the cover of the storm, where the light can reach it, it will bring the creature totally into the physical realm, where it can be killed. Until then, even the most horrible wounds while disappear as it shifts constantly between spirit and physical realms."
With that, she was gone, flying through the snow in the direction she thought Heather was in...it didn't take long for a horrible smell to reach her nose and she adjusted her flight to go towards it.
Clutching the fetish tightly in one hand, she dove towards the Wendigo as it came into her line of sight. The quicker she could follow Twoyoungman's directive, the sooner this would all be over. Too much blood had already been shed and she wasn't about to see Heather's spilled as well.
The Wendigo was engaged in a fierce battle with Logan, the two of them battering mercilessly at each other. There was little of Logan's uniform left, and his skin bore horrible rents that it tried to heal. He was scoring regular hits on the white-furred demon, claws leaving terrible gashes which disappeared seconds later in a futile attempt to hurt it. All of Logan's body movement and attacks were wrong; primal and brute, looking to do nothing else but get something by the throat and hurt it badly. Marie had seen it before, a savage rage where the man inside Logan all but disappeared, and the beast took over.
He wouldn't recognize her in that rage, wouldn't stop until he'd worn himself out. And the Wendigo would still be standing when he reached that point. This has to end. Gritting her teeth together, she twisted through the snow and wind, faster than she ever had before. Reaching the pair locked in battle, she forced herself to ignore her friend. She'd help Logan later. Right now she needed to wait for him to score a hit.
It didn't take long. Claws pierced skin and drops of the Wendigo's blood dripped ever so slowly out. A quick swipe with the fetish and the first part of her task was complete.
The Wolverine could smell the girl-human but he was overwhelmed by the white-furred thing in front of him. Each hit he scored was healed in seconds, whereas the beast's claws cut terrible rends in his body each time they got past his guard. If he could just get in close enough he'd tear its throat out, burrow in past the ribs to feast on its still-beating heart. White-thing had hurt Wolverine and hurt him badly.
During the battle, it becomes a question whether defeating the Wendigo means losing Logan forever.
Joseph had said the fetish needed sunlight to work, and in the midst of the storm, the fastest way to reach it was up. She took off into the sky, fighting up and above the unnatural storm. As she broke free of the winds, the fetish in her hands grew warm, as if drinking in the light. It because to pump the energy back out, suffused with a golden light.
As the fetish glowed, the storm began to abate, once fierce winds tapering off into a more gentle breeze. The Wendigo paused to look up towards where Marie hovered. It was then that the Wolverine struck again, without pity or remorse, into the neck of the beast. Where wounds had once disappeared as the Wendigo flickered inbetween the physical and spirit worlds, now the adamantium claws bit deep into flesh, and ripped sideways, opening up a bloody gash. The creature staggered, bright red blood splashing down the matted fur and into the snow. Again and again the claws plunged into the Wendigo, until with a final bubbling roar, it crashed face first to the ground.
Before their eyes, the form seemed to change, the charnel scent dissipating and the shaggy fur growing particlized. As the winds touched it, the form of the Wendigo began to evaporate, carrying away in tiny snowflakes on the wind, as the drift came apart. In the centre of the mound lay a man, facedown. His skin was covered in blood, turned dry and brown with age, but still recognizable as native symbols painted on his flesh. His own body was seemingly unharmed, somehow cocooned from the terrible damage that Wolverine had inflicted on the Wendigo.
Joseph hobbled over to the man, reaching down to check him, as Marie and Garrison stood in front, watching Logan were he twitched, still overflowing from the rage inside him. They were about to move when a hand on each shoulder stopped them. Heather stepped past them, walking in front of Logan without the slightest trace of fear. It was easy to forget Heather Hudson's past. She wasn't much past thirty, and her looks were easily those of a woman a decade younger. But years ago, she'd found a way to reach past a vast lake of pain and madness in a feral man found in the woods, more animal than man, and reach his humanity enough to draw it out. That same streak of iron will was kindred in them both.
"Logan," She said, soft and calm. "It's over. It's all over now. Time to come back." Heather raised one hand and beckoned him. "Time to come home, Logan."
Wolverine just stood there, panting, claws dripping blood. He could tell the female was making mouth-noises but they were unimportant. Only the smell of her blood, the bloodthirst within him, was important. Not even the stinking machine male and the other female mattered. As he stood there watching her with the flat eyes of a predator, the wounds on his body continued to knit themselves closed, the muscles knotting and the flesh sprouting over them to seal the wounds closed with no trace of a scar.
Heather stepped forward, within easy striking distance of Logan, and laid a hand flat on his bloodied chest. "Time to come home, Logan." She repeated.
Wolverine flinched at that touch, and the muscles in his arms corded as he fought against himself. His instincts said to kill, to drop this female where she stood and go loping back into the wilderness, find a pack, hunt, mate, _live_.
But he didn't. He just looked at the female with a blank look, not understanding but not caving into instinct either. Then, suddenly, the claws retracted, slamming home with a snakt.
"That's right." Heather smiled at him. "You're home."
In the post-mission briefing, Minister MacDonald clears up a lot of Kane's outstanding questions, and provides some much needed perspective before sending him back with Marie to the X-Men.
“He’s decided to stay?”
“That’s right. It’s best for him right now.” Heather sighed, running her hands through her hair. They hadn’t been back for more than a few hours, long enough to change clothes and go to the conference room to meet the minister. Logan was down resting, with Marie watching over him. During the entire trip back, he’d looked caged, on a thin line between flight and fight. “We’ve been through this before with Logan. He’s strong, Kane. Considering how far he came back from last time, he’ll make it through this too. Mac and I will keep a close eye on him, and between Joseph’s talks and Eugene running him ragged when the violence seeps too close to the surface, he’ll find the balance again.”
“I’ll be here too. I can keep him level.” Kane nodded.
“What makes you think that you’ll be here? You’re going back to Xavier’s.”
“Um, what?”
“Just wait for the Minister.” Heather sat back in her chair, waiting.
“I assumed that I was being pulled from Xavier’s. After the… incident.”
“You really are just a beard with an idiot attached to it, aren’t you? Wait for him.”
Kane lapsed into a sullen silence, as Heather ignored him, flipping through a stack of paperwork. It wasn’t long before they both heard MacDonald’s voice in the hall. The naturally loud and gregarious minister was greeting people in the hall like old friends, typical of his nature.
“Good afternoon. Heather! Good to see you, of course. Inspector Kane.” Minister MacDonald pointed at him, with a regarding look. “You’ve been waiting. That’s good. It shows some dedication; commitment. We like commitment. Are there muffins?”
“Minister, it’s—what? No. No muffins. I could call down to the cafeteria.”
“There is this little place down by the river that makes the best muffins. They make this tarte tatin and brioche souris that absolutely melted in your mouth. The cafeteria? Non, I think not.” MacDonald paused and took a seat. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I’m assuming I’m about to be re-assigned?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Considering how the Director has been acting, I just assumed that I’d either be going back to the RCMP, or should be looking for work in the food service industry.” Kane said.
“Is this about the space laser?” MacDonald said, and was rewarded with an open mouthed gape from Kane. “Oh, you didn’t know we knew? Our counterparts in the US administration quietly let us in on the details. There’s so much inter-agency connection, that a very small and select few of us were informed of the details.”
“So then… why was the Director—I mean…” Kane sputtered, clearly flummoxed. He’d never been flummoxed before, and was finding the archaic condition to entirely too uncomfortable.
“Malcolm obviously believes he’s testing you. He takes these things so seriously, we like to humour him. How about pain aux noix?”
“Minister…” Heather said, pleadingly.
“Of course. Yes, oui, Inspector. We knew about the incident not long past you returned here after suffering your injury. You look conflicted, Inspector. Is it because we knew or because you didn’t tell us first?” MacDonald gave him a flat look. “You are worried about the conflicted loyalties, that in protecting Xavier’s you’ve somehow violated your oaths to the Canadian government.”
It was the second time in as many moments that Kane was left speechless.
“Miss Hudson, do you trust the Inspector? Good, so do I.” The Minister said. “Inspector Kane, you were not selected out of a hat. You were chosen because we trust you. We trust you to make judgment calls on the information that you need to share, and information that you cannot. Inspector, with both the X-Men and the FBI, you are being involved in government issues that comprise conditions of national security for the United States. Did we put you into this position to spy on the United States? We didn’t, and they wouldn’t stand for it.”
“I don’t understand.” Garrison protested. “Sir, with the X-Men, I’m in a position where I can’t always maintain those oaths. I made a commitment, to the country and to the force, and I don’t know if I can do that honestly. I’m not even sure I understand what I should be doing there. What the X-Men do is important, but… I don’t know if I’m right there. They’re isolated, used to being above the law when necessary. I might be just the wrong kind of person for that, especially when I don’t know if they’re not potentially achieving the exact opposite of what they are intending to do.”
Minister MacDonald paused, and turned to Heather. “Miss Hudson, can you give us a minute?” He waited for her to leave and close the door behind her. Once she did, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pair of cigars. He carefully cut them both and passed one over to Kane, lighting them.
“I think they thank you for not smoking in here.”
“Why? They don’t know what I’m intending.” He took a draw from the cigar and blew out a smoke ring. “Inspector Kane, your choice for this assignment was based on your ability to understand what is important to pass along, and what is important to withhold. Seriously, you’re a boy scout in some ways; you need to believe something, which means that your belief in this country and your place in it ensures that you will not withhold something that is vital to us. It’s a very important distinction.”
MacDonald blew a second smoke ring, and smiled. “I had the pleasure of meeting Charles Xavier at a conference, oh, ten years ago. I was struck by how remarkable a man he was; intelligent, honest, and most importantly, sincere. He believes what he says, with every fibre of his being. Don’t confuse that with him being somehow naïve, Inspector. Or unobservant. He doesn’t need to have you on his team for our agreement with him. He doesn’t need to have you in his home, around his students and staff, or anything more than the occasional drop-in visitor to get everything from us we’ve offered. But he has. Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because a man as smart as Xavier, with a psychological understand as deep as his, understands what’s going on in his own house. He believes in integration, but isolates his staff and students in a walled mansion. Why is that? Because maybe he understands stages; how to introduce things a shock at a time. His X-Men are run and led by two people who have literally only known life from that mansion and ideology since they were children. His school is a refuge, that can give people a bunker-like skew to their perspective, full of people who have been ignored or failed by the law. You think it’s an accident that he not only accepted, but openly welcomed Inspector Garrison Kane of the RCMP, who grew up a normal middle class existence in West Toronto, into that group without thinking about the impact.”
“I—I never considered that.”
“No, but we did.” The Minister took another draw, looking reflectively at him. “I think Xavier welcomed you because he’s aware that from his influence, people are willing to give him their loyalty unquestioningly. Where as you will always questions, always wonder, and that makes his own people think, even if just to defend his decisions. You’re from the outside, Inspector, and you don’t owe him anything. I think that’s why he’s been so willing to take you in with the rest, so they struggle to define what it is they do, rather than blindly trusting him. You’re part of how he keeps questioning himself, and understanding the perspective of the outside world on his decisions.”
Minister MacDonald made sense, although it was his words that made Kane realize how little he had considered Xavier’s decisions with the school being pre-meditated. He believed in the sincerity and morality of the man, but hadn’t considered his ability up until now.
“You’re an essentially human perspective in a mutant world in that mansion, Inspector. If you can integrate, well, that means the whole world can too.” MacDonald took a puff, enjoying his cigar immensely. “So lighten up, man, eh? You’re there because the day you can’t accept keeping a secret, you’ll leave. We trust that. I think Xavier trusts that you believe in him, even if you question the methods at times. That’s good. Makes him consider his methods regularly; to adapt and change. There’s too much power there for any kind of blind obedience to be healthy, and I’ll bet he knows it.”
“You want me to go back?”
“Oui, as much as I think you want to go back. He’s a smart man, and there are people there to help him not just as X-Men. You might be one of them. It’s valuable. It’s important. To all of us.”
“I can’t really say no to that.”
“Not without losing your pension, no.” Minister MacDonald got up and dusted off his coat. “Now come on. Let’s find a drink and a place to enjoy these. There might even be muffins.”
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