Rogue started in surprise as the door to the cabin suddenly splintered and collapsed. Instinctually, she reached down the side of the couch, feeling the plasma gun resting against the side. Her grip tightened as Sabretooth loomed up in the doorway.

"Who the Hell are you?" she demanded coolly.

Sabretooth smiled, showing his exaggerated canines. "Name's Victor Creed. You can call me Sabretooth." His eyes narrowed. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Rogue glared up at him. "Ah'll tell him you stopped by. Now leave."

Sabretooth smiled. "I don't now if it's just you or if it's that cute little penguin on your pink nightie, but somehow I just don't feel threatened."

Rogue's eye twitched. If there was one thing she couldn't tolerate, it was people being condescending to her. Rogue looked him directly in the eye, as her arm swung the plasma gun over the side of the couch to fire directly at Sabretooth's chest.

The hulking giant wasn't expecting it and didn't move out of the way in time. The plasma burst hit him hard, licking at his flesh and propelling him backwards to slam into the wall.

Rogue kept her gun trained on him as Sabretooth slumped to the floor. His body folded over, blocking her view of the severe burns on his chest. She waited for several minutes, assuring herself he was well and truly down.

The seconds ticked by with almost agonizing slowness and Rogue kept her eyes on the threat. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, she slowly eased herself up off the couch and approached the body. As she stood there looking at him, Rogue realized he looked familiar. In a flash, images of Wolverine fighting with a man in wolf furs came crashing into her mind. Rogue stared down at the body in dismay. How could he have survived? Alarms went off in Rogue's head, but they were too late.

Sabretooth roared as his body gathered itself together and he pounced on Rogue. As the weight of his bulk carried them both to the floor, one taloned hand went for her throat and the other raked the plasma gun from her grip.

Rogue stared up at Sabretooth in shock, her eyes widening as his fist closed slightly, restricting her breathing. Sabretooth's eyes were alight with excitement as he felt her pulse struggling against his hand.

"Sassy little spitfire, aren't you?" he rasped.

Rogue felt her heart pounding furiously in her chest as her mind raced to come up with a plan of action. Sabretooth's hands were gloved, the razor sharp talons piercing through the tips. His left hand held her throat, the elbow leaning on her right arm, while his right held her left arm to the ground.

Sabretooth lowered his head slightly, taking in the scent of her body.

"You smell like the runt," he murmured.

The feel of his hot breath against the thin fabric of her nightshirt, sent chills down Rogue's arms. Sabretooth's head moved down her body, his right arm moving from holding her down, to trailing along her side. Rogue flexed the arm, to keep her circulation going, and flinched when the hand at her throat tightened, talons pricking her skin. Sabretooth continued his olfactory assessment of her body, and Rogue fought not to hit him when he nuzzled at the space between her legs.

He lifted his head and leered at her. "The runt hasn't taken you, yet." An evil light shone in his eyes. "Looks like I beat him to it."

Rogue felt her blood turn to ice in her veins as Sabretooth leaned back. Raising a taloned hand, he brought it down across the front of her nightshirt. Rogue bit back a cry as his talons left tiny red lines in her skin. With the nightshirt and her underwear in shreds, Sabretooth had an unobstructed view over her body.

As his eyes ran over her bare skin, Rogue could see him getting excited by the sight of her blood. The bulge in his pants warned her what was coming and a panic seized her. As Sabretooth lowered his head to draw his tongue over the bloody threads on her stomach, Rogue brought the heel of her left hand up into his forehead.

Sabretooth's head snapped back, but the weight on her body didn't lessen. She held her breath, expecting him to tear her throat out, but nothing happened. Instead, Rogue heard the sound of fabric ripping. Opening her eyes, she stared in horror. Sabretooth had drawn his talons over the crotch of his jeans, freeing his cock. There was a crazed look in his eyes as his breathing became heavier.

"Oh yeah, girl, fight back," he whispered.

He lifted his upper body just long enough to free her other arm, the increased pressure on Rogue's throat temporarily cutting off her air. Then he released her neck and violently grabbed both of her arms, jerking them up over her head. The position pushed Rogue's naked breasts up so they stood out against the rest of her straining body. Tears stung her eyes in humiliation as Sabretooth growled appreciatively. His knees moved slightly to push her legs apart. Feebly, Rogue tried to kick out, but he was too big. Sabretooth snarled at her and positioned his cock at her opening.

"No," Rogue choked out. "No, you don't understand. Stop—"

Her words cut off in a sharp intake of breath as Sabretooth ignored her pleas. Plunging into her, hard and fast, Rogue screamed as she felt her flesh tear and the transfer open. The sound of her screams and the sight of blood dripping down her inner thighs seemed to excite Sabretooth further. As he pounded into her again and again, his feline eyes dilated until they were nearly all black and he lost himself in an animalistic rush.

As waves of pain rolled over Rogue, a furious rage began to burn within her. Her hips bucked involuntarily as Sabretooth's thrusts claimed her virginity. Rogue gritted her teeth against Sabretooth's onslaught. He was so wrapped up in his violation of her body, he hadn't felt the transfer open.

Now, Rogue's rage began to spiral upwards through her mind. She felt Sabretooth lower his head, his mouth locking onto one of her breasts. As his canines pierced the delicate skin, Rogue could feel warm blood trickle down her breast. Without warning Rogue's rage peeked.

In a burst of energy, Rogue felt her powers flare up stronger than she'd ever felt in her life. All of her anger, all of her humiliation, pushed outward, causing her mutant abilities to increase. Sabretooth's body spasmed, his deep intrusions into her body slowing before they finally stopped. With his cock still buried deep inside Rogue, his eyes glazed over and he collapsed on top of her.

As Sabretooth's attack on her body stopped, his attack on her mind began. Like a raging wind, his memories, powers, and strength surged into Rogue. Her skin felt electrified as the wounds inflicted by Sabretooth closed under his own healing power. With a burst of strength, Rogue tore her hands out of his weakened grasp and shoved his hulking mass off of her.

She stumbled to her feet, only to collapse as a rush of memories flooded her mind. Images of an angry father who beat her senseless. People trapping her in a cage to point and laugh as she raged helplessly against the bars. Pain and blood, both hers and that of others poured through her mind. Rogue grasped at her head as pain shot through her mouth and eyes. She felt her canines reforming and her eyes morphing into the feline versions of Sabretooth.

As everything that was Sabretooth rushed to violate her mind as he had just violated her body, a jagged scream tore from Rogue's throat. It merged into a howl as Sabretooth's animal nature claimed her and, snarling, Rogue ran out the door into the snow.

* * *

Wolverine knew something was wrong as soon as he got home. He could smell someone else here. Someone familiar. Wolverine's eyes widened when he recognized the scent. Sabretooth.

Like wildfire, Wolverine ran up the stairs. The door was destroyed and the scents coming from within the cabin made Wolverine's blood boil. As he crashed through the wreckage of his door, he noticed the body of Sabretooth lying on the floor. He wasn't moving and Wolverine could barely here a pulse. Restraining his anger, he reached down a flipped Sabretooth over, rearing back when he realized what had happened.

Sabretooth's shirt had a gaping hole in it with burns around the edges. As if someone had shot him with the plasma gun that laid a few feet away. His pants had been ripped at the crotch, and it took every ounce of control Wolverine had not to dismember Sabretooth right there when he caught the scent that covered the other mutant.

"Rogue," he whispered.

Wolverine could see blood on the floor, and he knew it was Rogue's. He also knew where it came from. Wolverine felt his claws un-sheath and re-sheath themselves a few times. The pain they caused helped him to focus, without mutilating the comatose body of the mutant responsible for what he was seeing.

Picking up Rogue's scent, Wolverine took off out of the house. The snow flew up in his footsteps as he ran into the forest behind his cabin. Claw marks were raked into various trees, and some of the snow still bore traces of blood. A few tatters of a pink shirt hung on the branches of a small barren bush, and the image of a nightshirt with a fuzzy penguin flashed through Wolverine's mind. Tears of rage and grief burned behind his eyelids and, briefly, Wolverine let his animal take over. Bounding through the snow, he raced towards Rogue, following her scent.

It wasn't long before he spotted her in the distance. She was huddled up in the snow, the last of her clothing long gone. Her eyes were closed, and her body trembled when Wolverine approached. He watched her, lying in the snow, and knew that she still had Sabretooth's healing factor. Her skin wasn't showing signs of frostbite.

As he reached a hand out to her, her eyes shot open. Feline pupils widened at his presence and she snarled as a taloned hand reached out to swipe at him. Wolverine stared in shock, as Rogue's eyes remained wild and unseeing. She didn't recognize him.

Slowly, Wolverine kneeled down in the snow. Rogue watched him like a hawk, twitching in preparation of escape.

"Rogue," Wolverine said softly. "Hey, it's me. Come on, let me get you someplace warm." Rogue didn't move, but Wolverine could see her mind struggling to remember him. Talking softly and soothingly, he experimentally eased a hand out towards her. Her eyes followed the movement, but she didn't move away. Wolverine kept talking to her and moved closer. Part of him wanted desperately to touch her skin, to let her absorb him in the hopes that it would help. But from the looks of her, she had enough in her mind to worry about, and he couldn't take the risk of making it worse.

As he moved to lift her in his arms, Rogue suddenly collapsed against him. Nuzzling his chest like a cat, she cuddled closer to him for warmth, tucking her body around itself. Wolverine's heart wrenched as he tried to keep her bare skin from brushing his. Slowly and carefully, he made his way back to the cabin.

As they got closer, Wolverine could feel Rogue's body tense up. Sabretooth's scent still permeated the area and Wolverine wished he had another place to take her. Still, he had to get her cleaned up and clothed. She had to come back to her own mind.

He kept murmuring words of comfort as they entered the cabin. For a minute, Wolverine was sure she was going to squirm out of his grasp and take off, but suddenly she calmed. Wolverine spared a glance over at the spot where Sabretooth should have been. With a slight shock, he realized that the body was gone. At that moment, Wolverine became aware of other scents. Someone had been in his cabin while he was out finding Rogue. There were a few of them, four or five. Rogue had noticed the scents also and her feline eyes darted around the room, looking for the source. Wolverine shook off his concern and walked into the bathroom with her.

He set her down carefully in the bathtub. Still speaking in a calm soothing voice, he slowly turned the water on. When the tub had filled with warm water, he soaped up a washcloth and took a deep breath. Keeping an eye on her reactions, he gently began to wash the dried blood off her breast and stomach. There were no markings on the skin at all under the dried blood.

As he finished with her upper body, Wolverine stopped. There was still blood and other fluids caked on the inside of Rogue's thighs, leading up. He hesitated. Then he realized Rogue was watching him with the indifferent curiosity of an animal trying to figure out what was going on. She growled a little, as the washing didn't continue. Wolverine flushed slightly and took a deep steadying breath. Very carefully, he moved the washcloth down to scrub the blood from her thighs. As the dark red stains disappeared under his ministrations, he moved the washcloth higher.

He turned to make sure she was still all right, and found her face a mere inches from his own. Wolverine tried not to fall backwards as she leaned closer to take in his scent. He tried to ignore the chills going down his back as she sniffed along his neck. Gently, he drew the washcloth along the apex at her thighs.

Next to his ear he heard a gasp, and pulled back to look into her eyes. For a split second, Rogue came back to herself, briefly looking at him through soft brown eyes before disappearing again behind amber irises. This time Wolverine blushed for real.

"All right, darlin', let's get some clothes on you," he murmured. He helped her out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around her. She still stayed crouched down, not standing on her own two feet. When she was fairly dry, Wolverine carried her into his bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, he turned and went over to his dresser. Removing his now sopping wet gloves and shirt, he slipped on a dry pair of gloves and flannel. Taking an extra flannel with a pair of soft sweatpants, he walked back over to the bed. Rogue watched him suspiciously as he sat down. When he tried to help her into the clothes, she struggled against him, refusing to let him put the shirt or the pants on her.

"Rogue, darlin," he started. Suddenly, she dodged out of the way, moving within the circle of his arms and bringing her bare back flush against his chest. Wolverine could feel the heat from her body through the flannel, and he cursed himself when his body started to respond. He tried to move quickly without alarming her, and pushed her to lie down on the bed. Wrapping the comforter around her, he brushed the flannel and the sweatpants to the floor.

"If you don't wanna wear them, you don't have to," he said softly. He lie down beside her and put one arm around her covered form. Curling his body against hers to keep her warm, he talked softly to her until her breathing slowed, and she drifted off to sleep. Wolverine sighed, when he felt her regular breathing.

"I'm sorry, Rogue," he whispered sadly. "I shouldn't have left you."

Rogue was silent in sleep, and Wolverine found no peace in staring at her slim figure, huddled under the thick comforter. He sighed into her hair. Then he eased himself away from her and off the bed.

Going into the main room, he walked through the doorway to the stair leading down to the garage. The icy winds swirled into the cabin without the protection of a door. Wolverine gathered some slabs of wood and a hammer and nails. Then he walked back up the stairs. Putting the supplies down on the floor, he picked up the pieces of the door and pieced them back together as best he could, using the slabs of wood to patch up the holes. As the hammer pounded into the nails, Wolverine's thoughts turned back to the strangers who had been in his cabin.

Their scents had faded away in the currents of wind that drifted through the cabin from the open doorway. Wolverine didn't know who they were and a part of him felt like he should have tried to track them while he could. He shook his head. Intruders or no intruders, he couldn't leave Rogue alone. Not like this. It didn't matter anyway; all they seemed to have taken was Sabretooth's comatose body.

Wolverine felt his blood heat up as thoughts of what the deranged cage fighter had done to Rogue sprang to his mind. That bastard had raped her. And if it wasn't bad enough he'd torn up her body, he'd reduced her mind to hiding within itself. She was acting entirely on instinct now, her higher consciousness hiding in the recesses of her own psyche.

Wolverine's eyes grew sad. If there was anyone who understood what was happening to Rogue, it was he. There had been several times when Wolverine had lost his humanity to the raging of the beast he always carried inside himself. Now that Rogue had a similar beast inside herself, he knew she would have to fight hard to make it back from the place she had run and hid in her mind.

He sighed and stood up. Retrieving Rogue's plasma gun from where it lay against the wall, he took it into Rogue's room and put it with her other weapons. He pitied Sabretooth when Rogue was well enough to pick it up again.

* * *

The next morning, loud knocking at his door awakened Wolverine.

"Whoever that is better make damn sure they don't break that fuckin' door down." Wolverine mumbled. Suddenly, his eyes shot open. Images of Sabretooth out there pounding on the door danced across his mind and he shot up in bed.

Startled, he realized Rogue wasn't in the bed. He saw her huddled on the floor in the corner, trembling in her sleep. Immediately, Wolverine got up to see who was at the door. On the way there he tried to rationalize that, if it were Sabretooth, he certainly wouldn't be waiting for Wolverine to answer the door.

By the time, Wolverine reached the door, he was just curious. When the person outside began banging in earnest, Wolverine yanked the door open.

"What?!" he snapped.

Cyclops' face was deadpan as he crossed his arms in front of him. "I believe you have something that belongs to me?"

Wolverine blinked in confusion.

Storm smiled. "There's a tracking device on the—"

"I don't care!" Wolverine said incredulously. He glared at them. "I don't have time for this bullshit. Take your damn bike and get out of here."

Cyclops opened his mouth to respond in kind, but Storm put her hand on his arm. Cyclops shut his mouth, but still looked peeved.

"Wolverine, we did not realize we were intruding. If you don't mind my asking, what is wrong?"

For a second, warring emotions played across is face.

Storm watched him closely. "Wolverine, has something happened to Rogue?"

Wolverine's facade crumbled. He stepped back and gestured Storm towards his bedroom. She furrowed her eyebrows and walked back into the room he indicated.

As she walked through the door, the first thing Storm saw was a large bed with no one in it. Turning her head, she saw Rogue curled up in the corner, watching Storm warily. Surprised, Storm noticed that Rogue had no clothes on. Carefully, she took the comforter from the bed and approached her. Kneeling down beside the other woman, Storm sat still, trying not to frighten her.

Rogue studied Storm carefully, not moving. Her nose twitched as she sniffed at the X-Woman. She smelled of wind and rain, as if nature had formed itself into a woman. Rogue reached a hand out towards Storm. Her hand hovered in front of her neck.

Storm took Rogue's hand in hers and smiled. She gently reached out to wrap the comforter around her body. Rogue looked as though she wanted to throw the cover of, but she allowed Storm to draw her away from the corner.

Storm's eyes were sad as she took in the puddle that had spread where Rogue had been sitting. Holding Rogue to her, she summoned a tiny raincloud to rinse the floor, and a warm wind to dry it as best she could. Storm said a brief prayer of thanks to the Goddess that it had been she and not Wolverine to come in here after Rogue. The woman had obviously been through enough, without any further humiliation.

Storm called out to Cyclops as she led Rogue through the doorway and out to where Wolverine and Cyclops waited for them. "Cyclops, call the Professor. Rogue is coming back with us on the Blackbird."

"Oh no, she's not." Wolverine interrupted. "She's staying here."

"Wolverine, of course we fully intended for you to come also."

Wolverine shook his head. "You're not using Rogue as an excuse to lure me back to join your little team."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Cyclops said in exasperation. "Everything doesn't have to be about you!"

"I'm not gonna let some stranger go poking around insider her head." Wolverine said through clenched teeth.

Throughout their exchange, Storm had been watching Rogue. The younger woman was now looking at a spot on the floor. She sniffed the air and her features grew strained.

"Wolverine," Storm spoke up, playing a hunch. "After what happened to her here, don't you think a change of scenery would be best for her? Look at her, Wolverine."

Wolverine turned to face Rogue. She was looking around the cabin as though she couldn't find something that she knew was there. Her nose twitched as she sniffed the air. Wolverine's heart sank. He knew that look. Rogue could still smell the blood. He hadn't had a chance to scrub the floor yet and even though she couldn't see the bloodstains from where she stood next to Storm, her newly acquired enhanced senses could smell the coppery traces.

Storm watched the rainbow of emotions pass over his face. "Let us take both of you to Westchester, Wolverine. We have a jet outside, waiting. We'll be there in no time and the Professor can try to help her."

Wolverine was silent for a long moment. Finally, the vulnerable look on Rogue's face got to him and he gave in.

"Fine. Let me grab some stuff and we'll go."

Cyclops and Storm nodded as Wolverine walked back into his room to get a large duffel bag. He packed a few shirts, jeans, and pairs of socks. Then he walked into Rogue's room with the bag.

Cyclops and Storm leaned over to watch him. They both raised their eyebrows as Wolverine proceeded to shove a plasma gun into the bag. Then he seemed to realize Rogue would need clothes as well. He walked over to Rogue's dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a few pairs of jeans and some shirts and put them in the bag. Then he opened another drawer and froze.

Her socks were all plain and sensible white cotton. Her underwear, however, was another story. Wolverine's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he saw the rainbow of colored thongs that filled the drawer. Lace, cotton, and silk all greeted his gaze and Wolverine almost laughed. Rogue wasn't as repressed as he'd thought she was.

Storm and Cyclops tried not to laugh as Wolverine stared into Rogue's sock and underwear drawer. Wolverine flushed. Irritated, he grabbed a handful of socks and underwear and stuffed them in the bag. After he zipped up the bag, he stalked back over to Storm and Cyclops.

"Carry this," he commanded, dropping the bag at Cyclops' feet.

Cyclops stared at him indignantly. "I most certainly will not."

Wolverine turned to Storm and Rogue. Rogue was sitting on the floor, still wrapped in the comforter. She seemed to be watching everything that was going on with a vague curiosity. Wolverine knew she wouldn't walk to the X-Men's jet. He leaned down and gathered her and the comforter into his arms. Rogue immediately snuggled up against his chest, his familiar scent a welcome sign of safety.

Cyclops watched them and his expression softened. He picked up Wolverine's bag and together they all left to board the waiting Blackbird.