The Cave

by Borath

Disclaimer: I do not own X-men or any of their characters, although I, and a heck of a lot of other people, really want to, so don't sue. I'm poor. L The most you'd get out of me is a toothbrush and my psychotic hamster.J

Warning: This is just a piece of fluff I wrote at two in the morning and is my first attempt at fanfic. Excessive swear words. I'm sorry, it's a bad illness. You have been warned! Archive anywhere and everywhere please, as long as you let me know!

Written from Wolverine's POV. I don't think you should read this if you're a big Cyclops fan. I try to like him, I really do. Look at it this way; Think Cyclops, now think Wolverine. Get the picture?

Category: Humour.


Damn. It was really my unlucky day. First, me and Cyke get called specifically for some mission over in Muir Island. And _then_, a freak storm shoots down the mini-jet, straight down onto this Island in God-knows-where.

Luckily for us, the radio wasn't _completely_ fried, and we managed to get an SOS out to the mansion before the thing died altogether.

But that wasn't the worse bit, _oh no_. The _freakin' thunderstorm_ still loomed over our heads, slamming the odd bolt of lightning down towards us, _just_ to remind us that it was _still_ there. Cyke suggested hiding out in a nearby cave until the Blackbird came and plucked our butts' outa there.

But even that wasn't going to go smoothly either. The plane wouldn't be able to get to us for six _hours_ because of the freak weather! So there I am, stranded with the _ oh so loveable_ boy-scout for six _hours_! Like I said, just my day.

Cyclops was nattering on about the 'fascinating structures the rainwater had carved into the limestone over the millennia'. Well, you can tell just how much attention I was paying to _that_. I was busy scanning the shadows, taking note of every nook and cranny there. I had a bad feeling 'bout this place. Might have had _something_ to do with the thunder rolling and the hundreds of spikes hanging from the ceiling.

"Stalactites," Cyclops said, pointing to the ceiling of the cavern. I nodded slightly to him and then resumed my little scout about the place.

Suddenly, I smelt burning, right before the bolt of _lightning_ connected with the ground above our heads. The ceiling shook from the impact, and tons of the _spikes_ fell loose, bits of rock crumbling to the ground.

Then, being a heroic _idiot_, I lunged at Cyclops who had been standing under a particular _big_ spike, shoving him to the ground. And then, to complete my _wonderful_ day, the _fucking thing_ fell at that _precise_ moment, straight through my back.

Adamantium bones are a _real_ blessing sometimes. The rock scraped against my ribs and detoured through the small of my back, missing _most_ of my major organs, and barely my spine.

When the rocks stopped falling and the dust cleared a bit, I looked over to Cyclops. _ Typical_. He was lying face down in the dirt, a gash marring his temple. He's out cold by a lump of rock, and I'm _skewered_ with a rock _spike_! He's got no _right_ to be unconscious!

I reached out and shoved his shoulder. _Nothing_. I decided to wait until he comes to, before I try to move.

Looking back at the spike, I decide that that's probably a good idea. The spike, being of the traditional shape, got wider the further up I looked, meaning that I couldn't lift myself off it without _ripping_ myself in two. In addition to _that_, the top of the _damn thing_ was supporting a whole mess of various sized boulders. If I moved the thing, the whole roof would come crashing _down_ on us.

More blood was pooling around my chest from where I was squirming around so much, so I decided to keep still. I nudged Cyke again, praying that he would be awake now. Still nothin'. _ Great_. So I settled on the freezing, damp floor, glaring at Cyke and chanting at him to wake up.

It was about half an hour later when _that_ event occurred. Cyclops groaned softly, raising a hand to his head, wincing at the sting of the gash.

"Logan?" he called softly, wincing again at the sound of his own voice.

"'Bout damn time," I growled back, trying to keep my back still. He looked over to me and his face fell in shock.

"Quit gawking and get my out of here," I snapped, when he'd remained unmoving for a few moments.

Careful not to jolt his head, he moved so that he was standing above me. He raised a hand to his visor, _aiming it_ at the middle of the spike.

"No!" I cried out, pulling a round punch through his legs. He fell to his backside _oh so gracefully_ and glared at me.

"You wanna kill us?" I demanded, pointing up at the boulders _still_ teetering on the top of the spike.

"Sorry," he mumbled quietly. But I got good hearing and heard it any way. "What do _you_ suggest we do?" he asked a little louder.

"Well, way I see it, we got two choices. You go up there and get your butt into the minijet and help the Blackbird find us quicker, or, you keep me awake for the next five _hours_ while we wait. _Your_ choice," I answered sharply. I wasn't in the mood for small talk at the moment, _especially_ with this guy.


Could he be _any_ slower? "'Cause you _idiot_, if I pass out, I'm gonna go into a healin' coma, meaning that I seal up with a _ fist sized hole in my gut_!"

Cyclops actually had _the nerve_ to grin. Well, I _was_ outa striking distance in my _current_ position. "That could be interesting."

I growled at him. Didn't _even_ flinch. Understandable, since my growl was little more than a soft gurgle. Damn _blood_ was welling up _fast_, an' blackness was already nibbling at the edges of my vision. I decided to _try_ to make some conversation that would keep me awake, much as I _love_ bickering with Squinty.

"Alright dead-eye. What mission are we _supposed_ to be on?" I asked, feigning a certain degree of interest.

He regarded me silently for a few moments, then, seeing as we had nothing better to do and the storm was still raging, plopped down in the dirt infront of me. "Moiré heard a rumour about a rouge science group who have been cloning certain mutants from cell samples. We _were_ going there to check around a bit, see if it was true."

"Why didn't the whole team go?" Stupid question, I know, but I _had_ to stay awake.

"Storm's in Africa and Jean's not too well. Beast wanted to keep an eye on her. Rouge and Gambit, well, let's just say that they're not _exactly_ the discreet type."

"And you are?" Oh, _that_ got him.

He stared at me silently for a moment. "I would have sent you alone, you being the best tracker. But you've been acting like a mule with a toothache for the past few days, and thought I'd play chaperone. The X-Men don't need calls from families whose kids have been caught up in one of your beserker rages."

I wasn't listening any more, even though he was _probably_ insulting me. I was focusing on the sounds I could hear behind me, in the shadows. Kinda sounded like _machines_ whirring, the odd murmur and a couple of _footsteps_ every few seconds. Cyclops had shut up too, seeing that I was listening to something.

I looked to him and indicated to the back of the cave. There was _definitely_ someone there. He stood up slowly and edged around the spike towards the shadows. I kept perfectly still, listening to his feet scuffing across the dust as he made his was through the cave.

There was suddenly a shout and the familiar sound of Cyclops' beam going off, and then an explosion. A _god damn explosion_. Naturally, the cave rattled from the blast and a couple of the boulders above me came _cascading down_. I'm _pretty sure_ one hit me square on the head, 'cause a wonderful, empty blackness cloaked me, and the pain left.

Healin' factors seal up wounds fast, but don't do _diddly squat_ for the pain.

Then Cyclops, the _asshole_, shook me out of my peaceful reverie, and the pain came _screaming_ back, anxious to make up for lost time. Snapping my eyes open, I saw that a lot of the cave had crashed down around us, but the god-forsaken spike _still_ stood vigilantly through my body, its burden _still balancing on top_. Honestly, the situation was laughable if it didn' t hurt so much.

"I think lady luck is pissing on us today," I commented weakly. I _hated_ to admit it, but that was exactly how I felt. Weak. Must be the bloodloss.

"More on you though. I found the lab, turns out the rumour was true. It exploded but I managed to get the scientists out. They're tied up over there." He indicated behind him to where a group of about ten guys were gagged and bound in a heap on the floor.

"All the clones dead?"

"Yes. I don't think anything could have survived _that_." He studied me again, and asked quietly, "how are you doing?"

"Crap," was my only response. "Think we can get outa here any time soon?"

He looked up at the ceiling, only then did I notice that the storm had stopped. He looked to me again in that sympathetic look that I _hate_.

"I could take the minijet and guide the Blackbird here. It'll be another four and a half hour wait otherwise."

"Then go already. I'm not goin' anywhere.

"You sure?" That _damn look_ again.

"Yeah, now get going so I can get off the floor." He still watched me, assessing.

Then, he turned and ran out of the cave, up to the surface. Can't say I blame him for running. I wanted to get outa here too.

So, _there I was_, drenched in my own blood, lying on a freezing, stony floor, with ten guys squirming and shouting muted threats through their restraints. Then, _the dripping started_. It had probably been doing that for a while, but this was the first time I'd noticed it.

Plop! Plop! Plop!

Yep, pretty annoying. For the next two hours, I had to focus on that sound to stay awake, and I was almost through my last nerve.

Then, I heard the _beautifully familiar_ hush of the Blackbird's engines. Beast bounded out of the darkness to my bloodied side.

"Oh my stars and garters," he muttered softly, already probing the wound. He touched a sore spot where a jagged piece of the rock pocked horizontally into my flesh, and I _almost_ cried out as a response. But I swallowed it and waited for the _brilliant idea_ of how to get me out of here to arrive.

"Nightcrawler wouldn't be with you by any chance?" I asked softly, not wanting to jolt my churned innards.

Beast looked to me and shook his head. Heck, it was _worth_ a shot. Cyclops reappeared in my line of sight, a pale Jean at his side.

"Why'd you bring her?" I snapped at him. I looked at Jean, my voice taking a noticeably gentler tone. "You should be resting darlin."

She shook her head with a faint smile at my concern for her, and then gasped at the size of the pool of blood that had accumulated around me.

"If our _fearless leader_ has an idea to free Wolverine here, I suggest he speak up now," Beast said finally,

Cyclops looked up and down the spike slowly. Yep. The idiot _took his time_ staring at the piece of rock _impaling me_! Surfice to say, my patience was running _extremely_ thin. Probably that goddamn _dripping_!

"We need to get those boulders off the top of the spike." Ah, the words of a _genius_!

"Rouge, fly up there and support the ceiling. Jean, Gambit get as many boulders off the top as you can, but _gently_ people. Beast, stay with Wolverine."

Ah, the Boy Scout returns. He _probably_ expected me to thank him after all this. Nope, I was gonna thank Beast who was pumping a _lovely_ amount of morphine into my arm.

I had to admit it, Cyke was right when he said that the Cajun was less than subtle. The flammin' _moron_ starting flinging cards at the boulders atop the spike, blasting the rocks to dust.

Okay, it _was_ getting rid of the boulders but it still _hurt_, probably more than it was supposed to. But still, I kept my _highly unusual_ griping to myself and tried not to yelp as the rock shuddered against my abused innards.

He stopped after a few _long_ minutes and resorted to the much more subtle method of prying them apart with his staff.

It took about ten minutes for the Jean to telekinetically move the rocks down as Gambit freed them. Rouge held the ceiling and then the _real_ pain started.

Okay, so I wasn't _quite_ feeling hunky-dory _before_ they started tugging at the spike, but I wouldn't wish this on Sabretooth. And _that's_ saying somethin'.

First, Cyclops cut the spike off about a foot above my back and Jean moved it out of the way. Then Beast muttered a string of apologies before moving a paw beneath my chest and another by my stomach. _Oh yeah_, this was _gonna_ hurt.

Then, _good ol' blue_ wrenched me up and off the spike, tearing up _all_ the wounds my body had managed to patch up.

"Ah _can't_ hold this roof up forever!" Rouge shouted, _cheerfully reminding us_ that death by crushing was still knocking at our doors.

Being carried like the weakling that I'm _not_ by Beast, we all made a beeline for the cave's exit. Rouge sailed on out after us and the cave that I had _faithfully_ resided in crumbled under its own weight.

I grinned at the sound before letting the blackness seep over my vision. Healing factors are really a _beautiful_ thing, especially when it means that I'll be out of the Med.lab and pounding on Summers _quite_ soon for leading me into the _goddamned cave_!

All in all, I decided as the darkness took me, today _could_ have been worse.

The End