"My Dad, Wolverine"
Summary: Wolverine must step into a role he has never had to fill before: fatherhood.
Author's Note:Takes place a couple of weeks after the episode "X-23".
Warning:This story will contain spanking of a minor.
Disclaimer: Timberwolf is my own creation, but all the others belong to Marvel.
Chapter VII. Guidance and Discipline
Timberwolf thrashed and struggled against the restraints holding him to the chair in Xavier's study.
"Let me go!" he roared, flexing his fingers again and again to extend his claws. "I must de-activate X-23!"
Logan sighed. "I'm gettin' pretty tired of hearing that," he grunted, sourly.
That was all the boy had said the last three days, since they had removed the sedative.
Whenever the girl got anywhere near him, his 'fits' would become even more violent and they'd have to sedate him again.
It was now Monday, and Laura had gone to school with the others.
Charles had felt this was probably the best time to try and reach his mind.
He'd been trying these last few days, of course, but the boy's agitated state prevented him from getting very far.
"Please, son," the professor said, gently, "calm yourself." He reached out with his mind.
Logan watched as they stared into each other's eyes and Timberwolf stopped thrashing about.
It seemed Charles had been able to finally enter his mind. That was good.
He just hoped he'd be able to do something now that he was in there.
They stayed that way for a while, thirty minutes at least, and then suddenly Timberwolf growled.
"Get out of my head!" he roared, and started thrashing against his restraints even more.
Charles blinked and then sighed wearily.
He glanced at him apologetically.
"Well?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"His mind is in turmoil," the professor told him, shaking his head.
"There are no memories to speak of, just a series of images and feelings."
Logan nodded, understanding. Of course there wouldn't be any memories...
The boy had never been allowed to do anything so he could acquire memories.
"What sort of images?" he asked, curiously.
"Violence, mostly," Charles said, quietly. "Things no child should ever be made to watch. Of course, Laura's image is there with the phrase 'de-activate her' over and over again by a hypnotic voice. Also, there a more than a few images of you."
"Me?" Wolverine asked, raising an eyebrow.
Charles nodded. "Yes," he said, "and those images invoked a strong emotion."
"Which was…?" he prompted, curiously.
"Respect," Charles told him, solemnly.
"Huh?" Logan stated, scratching his head. "I wonder why?"
"I got the impression that he was told that he should be like you," Charles explained, "that if he did—he'd be needed and wanted."
"He is needed and wanted," Logan growled. "By me."
Charles nodded. "He is also in desperate need of guidance and discipline," he said, sadly.
"What do you mean?" he asked, curiously.
"The only emotion he allows himself to feel is rage," Charles explained, "and the only thing he seems to respond to is pain."
"I can relate," Logan grunted, sourly.
"Yes, I know," Charles said, sighing. "The images of Laura inside his mind invoked the strangest reaction, however. Those invoked fear."
"He's afraid of her?" Logan asked, curious.
"To a certain extent," Charles said, "but only because he fears she's better than him, and that if he fails in his 'mission' he will be the one to be de-activated instead of her."
Logan growled, clenching his fists.
"If I ever get my hands on those…people," he snarled, angrily, "I'm gonna—"
Suddenly, Timberwolf managed to snap both the bonds holding him down and lunged at him.
He caught the boy's wrists in a firm grip, preventing him from doing any damage with either his claws or his elbow blades.
"Settle down, kid," he told him, firmly.
"Let me go!" the boy roared at him, pushing forward against his grip.
This did manage to push Logan against the wall somewhat hard, causing him to grunt.
Seeing that he couldn't get out of the strong grip holding him or push his claws down further, the boy changed tactics.
He moved closer, just an inch or two, and raised his knee…striking Logan in a very sensitive area.
The man grunted and hissed in pain, but didn't collapse or release his hold.
That did it!
Growling, he spun the boy around to fold both arms behind his back.
"Logan?" Charles asked, puzzled. "What are you going to do?"
"You said it," Logan told him, frog-marching the boy back to the chair he'd been sitting in. "He needs guidance and discipline."
"Yes…" Charles acknowledged, hesitantly.
"Well, you tried providin' the guidance," Logan told him. "Now, I'll provide the discipline."
With that, he placed one leg onto the chair and bent the struggling boy over it.
"Logan," Charles said, hesitantly, "I'm not sure…"
"You told me he respected me, right?" Logan growled. "That the only thing he seemed to respond to is pain?"
The professor nodded. "Yes," he admitted, "but surely there must be some other way…"
"He's my kid, Charles," Logan told him, "and if this is the only way to reach him, then…"
He shrugged, raising his hand back.
"I'll leave you alone," the professor said, sighing, and then wheeled himself out of the room.
Logan snorted, and then brought his hand down across the boy's backside.
Timberwolf continued to thrash and struggle, he didn't appear to even notice the slap on the butt.
Logan brought his hand down again, this time harder.
Logan brought his hand down again and again and again.
Each time harder than the last, but the boy still didn't seem to even care he was being spanked.
"All right, son," he growled, "time to up the ante…"
In one swift move, he yanked the sweat pants they had put on him down to expose his backside.
He then proceeded to reign down smack after smack after smack.
This did get a reaction.
Timberwolf stopped thrashing and struggling, he was now aware that someone was 'attacking' his posterior.
"S-Stop it," he grunted, obviously annoyed. "Stop it! Leave me alone!"
"Not 'til you stop misbehavin'," Logan told him, continuing to spank him, "and start listenin'."
He increased his strength, just a little bit, and began targeting a particular sensitive area.
Timberwolf attempted to get free again, but this time it was only a half-hearted attempt.
Tear welled in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall.
"W-Why are you doing this?" he whimpered, quietly.
"Cuz, son," Logan told him, still spanking, "I want to help you and right now this seems the only way to do that."
The boy's backside was starting to turn a deep shade of red.
"I-Is t-t-this p-p-punishment for not completing my mission?" the boy asked, as tears started leaking from his eyes.
"No," Logan told him, "this is punishment for throwin' a temper tantrum."
"Y-You would not let me go," the boy stated, sniffling. "Y-You would not let me complete my mission."
"And I ain't gonna, either," Logan growled. "She's your sister and you're not gonna hurt her!"
He stopped spanking then, but didn't let the boy up.
He wanted to see what his reaction would be first.
The boy blinked. "X-23 is my sister?" he asked, surprised.
"You and her share the same DNA," Logan told him, firmly. "That makes her the closest thing to a sister you've got."
"Y-You and I share the same DNA, too," the boy stated, quietly. "Don't we?"
"You were made from my DNA," Logan told him, "which makes me the closest thing to a father you've got."
"F-Father?" the boy asked, shocked. "I can't have a father…"
"Why not?" Logan asked him, gently.
"I'm a weapon," the boy stated, his voice devoid of emotion as if he was repeating something he'd heard over and over again.
"Weapons don't have fathers…"
"You're a kid," Logan growled, angrily, "not a weapon!"
"I don't care what they told you," Logan roared, angrily.
Timberwolf hissed, wincing at the sting each of those smacks caused on his reddened behind.
"I'm sorry," he whimpered, quietly.
Logan sighed, calming himself.
"You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for, son," he muttered, sourly.
He pulled the boy's sweat pants back into place and stood him up straight again.
Grabbing him by the shoulders, he stared him straight in the eye.
"What they told you, what they did to you was wrong," he told him, firmly. "You aren't a weapon, you're a child."
"I'm not a child," the boy stated, unaware his 'sister' had said those exact same words before.
"Yes, you are," Logan told him, firmly.
"I-I don't know how to be a one," the boy said, looking down. "A child, I mean."
Logan smirked at that. He lifted his chin so that they were staring each other in the eye.
"It ain't that hard," he assured him, chuckling. "Just watch some of these others 'round here and you'll fit right in."
"They'll come after me," he told them, wide-eyed. "They'll come after us both."
"They might," Logan agreed, snorting, "but they ain't gonna get you. Not so long as I'm alive, anyway."
"Why?" the boy asked, curiously.
"Because, son," Logan told him, "you and her are apart of me. You're my kids and I ain't gonna ever let anything bad happen to you."
The boy's eyes filled with unshed tears.
Pent up emotions that had been inside him all along but never allowed to be free were now rising to the surface.
Logan pulled him against him, crushing him in a bear hug.
"Let it out, kid," he whispered in his ear, "don't fight 'em."
The boy began to sob heartbreakingly into his chest. He wrapped his arms around his waist, tightly.
Logan held him, stroking his hair awkwardly, offering what support he could.
Charles came back in then. "Is everything all right?" he asked, gently.
Logan shrugged. "It will be," he told him, smirking down at the boy in his arms.
The professor nodded, smiling also at the tender sight.
"Yes," he said to himself, "I believe it most certainly will be.