Title: Horror Vacuum
Disclaimer: Please can I have Logan? *Puppy dog eyes* No? Grrr....okay then, fine he's all yours. L
Summary: Weapon X stands on trail and Logan is called up as witness
Rating: Probably PG, we're talking Logan after all....
Warning:I am not familiar with the justice system in America or Canada. That's why I wrote this from Logan's perspective. I figured he wouldn't know these things very well either. As for the terms I had to use, I'm sorry if it's not correct. Besides that, my grammar is probably horrible, sorry 'bout that.
Note: Italics are thoughts
This is the day. I'm not sure what to feel. Happiness? Relief? Anger? Hate? Are those the emotions that I'm supposed to feel? I don't feel like that… I feel…I feel…Scared. And empty.
That's what I'm feeling. But scared of what? Scared of them? Scared of myself? I'm not sure. The only thing that's sure is that I have to face them, face what they've done to me. And the worst, telling everything to people I've never seen, telling it to strangers. I don't know if I can do that. I've never told everything to anyone, not even my friends. Not even to myself. As I think about it now I realize that I've always denied it to myself.
But anyway it's going to happen today. Today is the day that Weapon X stands on trail. Most of them scientists are dead, but the ones who aren't are charged with crimes against humanity. And I'm witness…the only one who survived their actions. Well there's Sabretooth, but the day he's in a courtroom is the day he's convicted himself. So I'll have to convince the jury on my own. Chuck helps me a lot, but I'm still afraid that I'll screw it up and they set those mad scientists free.
Oh well, we'll see. I take a deep breath. I put on that damn tie and off I go.
Chuck's talking to me on the way, but I don't listen. I want to, but the only things I can think about is are they. Remember what they looked like when I laid there; cut open from head to toe. Faceless people. The monsters that haunt me in my sleep. What would they look like now? Are they still like that? Or are they just normal people, who have a normal life, live in a normal town, have normal children and grandchildren whom they tell about the good old days, tell how great life was, about the careers they've made? How great it was to see your test-subject in pain, to hear 'it' screaming, while they're writing down how fast 'it' healed?
Would they feel sorry? Regret what they've done?
"Logan? Logan? Are you listening?"
A hand touches my shoulder. I jump slightly, too deep in thought to notice Chuck talking to me.
"Sorry, didn't hear ya." He looks concerned and I feel a little bit guilty for not listening to him. He helped me a lot the past few weeks, not only with the technical stuff which comes with a trail, but also as my psychologist and even more important; as my friend. The others help me a lot too; they think they know how hard this is for me. Thank God they'll never know how it really feels. I wouldn't wish this on anyone.
"Logan are you alright?"
I pause. What am I supposed to say? Be tough and say I'm fine? That I've never felt better? That'd be a lie and he would know it…
"No. I'm not alright." He looks at me waiting for me to go on.
"I keep thinking 'bout them. What they'll look like."
"I see. What do you think they will look like?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
"I'm afraid I don't know either."
"Logan, they have a videotape."
" A videotape?"
"Yes, they've found it in the complex. I heard it this morning from Ben Johnson, our contact. They will show it in court."
"What kind of tape?" I know the answer before I ask the question. A cold feeling starts to form in my stomach.
"A security tape or some sort. You're on it… They've probably left it by accident. The rest of the building was empty."
I remember the camera's hanging everywhere. Recording me while I slept, when I walked to my cell, when I ate, …when they're experimenting on me. My mouth goes dry. A vile taste enters the back of my throat, I swallow, but it won't go away. I close my eyes tight and inhale slowly. Somewhere next to me I hear Chuck asking me how I feel. I hear him asking the driver to pull over. " No…it's okay. Go on. I 'm fine…"
"Logan are you sure?"
"Yeah. I'm okay. Go on."
"Alright then." Pause. "So you know what's on the tape?"
"Yeah…I guess so."
"You don't want to talk about it?" Rhetorical question. He already knows the answer.
"No." I think about it for a while. What will happen when they'll show it? What if I go feral, what if the images evoke my bestial rage? Chuck has promised to mentally monitor me and intervene as soon as it goes wrong. He'll stop it, I'm sure. But it's still a risk.
The car stops. We're there. I help Chuck with his wheelchair and we enter the building. It's busy here and there are many different smells. I don't like it. Way to crowded. I check the place for exits, something I always do. Maybe I'm too paranoid, but then again you never know. And the security guards with their guns aren't soothing my paranoia either.
We stand in the large hall for a moment undecided what to do next. Just as I start to move the wheelchair to a quieter place, a friendly looking man approaches us. I remember him as our contact Ben Johnson; he's wearing a suit and is carrying an obviously heavy briefcase with him.
"Hello there Logan, Charles. Ready for the big day?"
"Hello Ben, I think we're ready, aren't we Logan?"
I nod. I actually want to scream, tell them I'm not, because I'm getting more nervous every second.
"Come on let's go to a more peaceful place to talk."
Relieved to get out of the hall I follow Ben to a small office. Once there he tells us to take place at the large wooden table and gives us a cup of coffee. Grateful I take it from him. Caffeine, just what I needed. He opens the briefcase and takes out some papers.
"These are the last forms that need to be filled in." I groan…papers again. Ben grins at me. "Don't worry Logan, these are a piece of cake in comparison with the ones last week." I mutter something obscene, which is rewarded by a stern look from Chuck.
"Alright then here we go. Fill in your name at the top of that paper…"
After finishing the last papers, we have another coffee and talk a bit. Ben tells us he needs to go somewhere and leaves us in his office. I think about the last few weeks. It all started when Nick Fury called me a while ago.
"Logan. It's me Nick."
"Fury? Why are ya calling? Something wrong?"
"Not this time Logan. By the way I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"Well I thought ya liked to know that we ran in Weapon X."
"We got them Logan, at least the ones you didn't kill."
"Y're shitting me, right?"
"No I'm not. They're gonna be charged with crimes against humanity, physical abuse and all that stuff. We need a witness."
"Jesus… A witness? You're not suggesting…No way, man!"
"Logan you're the only one available. You have to, otherwise we can't hold anything against them."
"But I've killed some, right. They'll hold that against me."
"I've already taken care of that Logan, whatever they say it won't stand. So you're gonna do it or what?"
"I-I don't know…I should do it, right?"
"Yeah pal I think you should do it…"
"Can I think about it for a while?"
"Sure, but not too long"
"It won't take long."
"Okay then. Call me alright?"
"Yeah I will. See ya."
As I hang up, 'Ro's entering the room. I must be looking really bad, 'cause she's wearing that 'mother-hen' look. I have to admit I don't feel so great indeed.
"Logan is there something wrong?"
"No nothing." I'm nauseous. I gotta sit down. When I look around, the closest chair is on the other end of the room. Damn…I don't think I can make it that far. Stubborn as I am I still try it. Dumb move. Halfway I get a dizzy spell. I crash down against the wall and bump my head pretty hard. A few seconds after the nice thump my head makes, 'Ro is already at my side.
"Logan! Goddess…I'll get Henry."
"It's… okay…. 'Ro." Before I know it she's hitting her combadge and calls Hank. I try to protest, but she's inexorable. Weakly I try to stand. My head is hurting like hell. Great. I don't know what's wrong with me all of a sudden. Hank's here in no time.
"Logan? What happened?"
"He looked ill. When he tried to walk he fell down."
"I see. Logan do you hear me?"
"Yeah. I'm fine"
"Well apparently you're not, let's get you to the medlab."
"I'm fine. I don't need ta go to the medlab."
"Yes you do."
Hank's dragging me up to my feet and we walk to the medlab. There's no use in protesting, 'cause he's like 'Ro inexorable. My head still hurts a bit, but my healing factor is taking care of it already. When we enter the hall to the medlab, the stench of chemicals and medical stuff is assaulting my nose. I remember the conversation with Fury and I immediately feel sick again.
"Hank…stop. Not the lab."
"Logan I need to examine you there."
I slump down and sit against the wall.
"Logan? Come on let's go to the lab. We need to do some experiments."
Experiments? The word makes me sick and I feel the need to vomit. I try to push it back, but I can't and let it out. After a few minutes of puking, I stare at the remains of my breakfast on the floor. Great. Just freaking great. I lean against the wall once again and Hank's examining me. Then it dawns on me; I'm scared. That's what wrong with me; I'm scared as hell. But why?
"Logan? Are you all right? I can't detect any physical malfunctions. I called the Professor he'll be down here any minute now. Are you still feeling ill?"
"Nah…feel better now."
"I bet you do, my good friend." He turns to 'Ro, who's still looking awfully concerned. "Ororo could you please bring me some things that will help me clean this up? I'd do it myself, but I need to stay with him."
She nods and is already on her way before he can finish his sentence. While she's gone Hank tries to convince me to go to the medlab with him, but I don't budge.
"Logan, come on! Why won't you go with me?"
"I hate labs Hank, ya know that. Besides I'm feeling fine." I turn to walk away.
"Hello, gentlemen." Chuck. "I thought something was wrong with Logan, but it seems he's his own self again."
"He's not Charles. That's why he needs to go to the medlab with me, but he won't do it."
"I'm fine Chuck. I don't need ta go to the medlab." He must have picked up my slight wavering, 'cause he looks like he's doesn't believe me. Damn telepaths…
"Tell me what happened." Hank tells the story, while I take some stuff from 'Ro and start cleaning up.
"Logan, come with me." I follow Chuck to his office. Once there I sit down in one of the comfortable leather chairs.
"Would you please tell me what happened?"
"I was dizzy and I felt sick, that's all."
"I was actually referring to the source of your illness. Did something unsettling happen to you?"
I contemplate telling him and decide that he'll find out anyway sooner or later. He's world's strongest telepath after all. So I tell him about Nick's call and ask him for some advice.
"How do you feel about this all Logan?"
"I don't know...it's weird that after all these years they'll be finally convicted. I never thought I'd be needed to do that."
"Yes, you are indeed needed to do that, but are you willing to?"
"I think I have to, those people shouldn't be walking around free. So I guess I'll do it."
"I was hoping you would say that." I look at him confused. "I hope you'll then be able to close this chapter and go on with your life." I nod. I definitely want to bury this, to forget it and go on with my life.