In Fear of Three Little Words

Title: In Fear Of Three Little Words
Author: Margay
Comments to: goldicat@earthlink.net
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Logan

Disclaimer: I did not create nor do I own the characters of X-Men Evolution. Ownership belongs to Marvel and Warner Brothers. This story is purely for recreational purposes and no money has been exchanged.

Warning: This story contains non-consensual and consensual sex between men. Also, this story contains scenes of torture and violence. If this is a problem for you, please do not read this story. If you choose to read this story and do not like it because of the above contents, please keep it to yourself. I appreciate constructive comments and, of course, any and all accolades. After all, authors thrive on feedback and this is one Very Long Story. (That means don’t wait till the end of the story to write to me...okey dokey? )

Note: This is my first X-Men Evolution story though I do have experience writing in a couple of other fandoms. I have tried to make sense of the rather confusing and conflicting information offered in various episodes. But the writers of the show are lousy at time lines, seasons, and geography.

Note: This story takes place sometime after Ascension II. To protect myself from accusations of child pornography, I am making Kurt eighteen (which I think is reasonable since he was able to drive at the beginning of this show.) I also am assuming Rogue is a bit older maybe only by months based on information given in the show, but not yet out of high school since she didn’t graduate with Jean and Scott.

Summary: Logan and Kurt are kidnaped by Bolivar Trask. They escape, but not before the torture and experiments have changed them forever.

Chapter 1


Exploding pain rocketed through Kurt’s head, a moan slipping from his lips. He felt something hard and cold beneath his cheek, his hands, his body. Yet he couldn’t think of where he was or why his head throbbed with such a pounding beat.

He tried to lift his head, but something heavy encircled his neck, weighing him down. Finally, he pushed up and opened his eyes. An unfamiliar room swam before him, dancing circles around till Kurt felt sick and closed his eyes again.

This offending thing around his neck had to go.

He reached up and felt the coolness of metal, a two inch band and a half inch thick by the feel of it. Kurt yanked hard.

Agony seared him inside and out, bathing him in an electric fire. He cried out and fell, his body twisting, trying to escape. The pain suddenly ceased, but left a lingering sweat of dread.

Panting, Kurt lay waiting, horror and anticipation tense in his back and limbs.

Then, through the pounding waves crashing in his head, Kurt heard a door open, heard the rustle of cloth and the sound of boots against solid floor.

A new pain blossomed in his ribs and he rolled away.

“You awake, demon?” a hard male voice demanded.

Kurt rolled up to a crouch and bared his teeth to the four men before him. It was then he realized his clothing was gone, not to mention his image inducer.

“I’d say it’s awake,” another said, slapping a metal rod against his palm.

They all wore uniforms, non-descriptive yet military in design.

This was not good. This was a bad place to be. Kurt just needed to think of a better place. Anywhere came to mind.

Kurt closed his eyes and concentrated.

His powers failed him simultaneously setting off another pulse of agony. He cried out and almost fainted.

Laughter brought him back to the moment, to the sterile room he’d awakened in only a short time ago.

“I bet the little devil tried to do his disappearing act,” a voice said above him.

A hand wound up tight in Kurt’s hair and jerked him to his knees. The room swam once more and cold running pain lay hot beneath his fur.

“Hey, mutant,” the voice hissed in his ear. The hand jerked in his hair again and forced Kurt’s attention up to a hard, hate-filled face. “Your mutant powers won’t work now. No sir-ree they won’t.”

Kurt tried again to “port.” The agony of it was enough to make him go limp in his captor’s hand. Flung to the floor, Kurt lay panting. The kick came hard again to his ribs, knocking the breath out of him.
Sucking in air, Kurt forced his body to move. He rolled up to a crouch again. On their faces, Kurt saw a mixture of amusement at his predicament and fear of what he was, of what they did not understand.

The one with the metal rod moved forward, a sneer on his face. Kurt returned the sneer, showing sharp white teeth.

“Hey, little demon. You want some of this?”

The man swung and Kurt flipped backwards away from the rod, landing on the wall and clinging there without much effort.

“He’s some kind of alien. Look at ‘em,” another man said, backing up in fear.

Kurt sprang forward and kicked out hard enough to send the man with the rod backwards a good six feet. The soldier fell hard while Kurt rolled away from another kick. His tail whipped out, wrapping around a leg and flipped yet another onto his back.

The pounding in Kurt’s head caught up with him and only adrenalin kept him on his feet. He swallowed down nausea and the room swayed like he was under water.

“Our pretty little demon is a feisty one,” said another man from across the room. This one hadn’t moved during the fight. Had just watched with great amusement and some satisfaction, leaning against the door with his arms crossed nonchalantly. He stepped forward now, holding something in his hand, a control box of some sort. The man pressed a button and Kurt cried out in pain and staggered back, falling hard against the wall. He collapsed in a heap and prayed for unconsciousness.

The man stood over him now and the pain continued, roll after roll of agony so blinding, Kurt’s vision went dark. Then it ceased and Kurt lay shivering with the shock of it. He ventured a glance up and his heart tilted sideways.

“You,” Kurt gasped out.

“Yes, me,” Bolivar Trask stated with a smug look on his face. “The powers-that-be have decided I’m on the right track concerning you mutants. I have my Sentinels back and now I have my own facility to use at my discretion. All I needed was a couple of mutants to start the tests. I’ll find out what makes you tick. I’ll find out how to control...and ultimately destroy you. I’m already well on my way to doing so. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

Kurt tried to fathom what made this man hate, but his own experience was evidence enough. Trask needed no reason. Yet Kurt found himself asking anyway.

“Why? What have we done to you?”

Trask knelt down, his thumb precariously close to that dreaded button.
“You exist and that’s enough for me.” Trask grabbed Kurt’s hair and jerked his head up.
“But don’t worry your pretty little blue head. You won’t be dying today, nor tomorrow. My medical team is anxious to get their hands on you. And when they’re finished with their tests, I’ve got something very special in mind for you and Logan.”

“Logan!” Kurt pulled back, but Trask’s grip on him was hard as steel.

A sadistic smile crept across Trask’s mouth. “Did you think your buddy, Logan had escaped the ambush? Oh, no. My men knew exactly what was needed to take you two down. Sorry there’s nothing much left of your vehicle though. And nothing much to help your X-friends find you. Not here. This is the last place you will ever know, little demon.” Trask released his hold on Kurt’s hair and reached out, running the back of his hand down Kurt’s cheek. “The fur, it’s softer than I expected,” Trask murmured to himself.

“What have you done with Logan?” Kurt said, shaking off Trask’s too intimate touch.

“Nothing more than has been done to you,” Trask replied with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, you’ll see Logan soon enough, but you may wish you hadn’t by the time I’m done with both of you.” Trask rose to tower over Kurt. “Take him to the laboratory. There are tests waiting to be conducted on our little blue mutant.”

******************

Logan gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. The collar around his neck had warmed to body temperature, but it felt like a noose tightening against his windpipe. The air hissed out from between his teeth in a harsh rush and in spite of knowing the collar would shock him, his claws snicked out and he jerked hard against his restraints.

The collar punished him, sending agony racing through his body like Storm’s own lightning bolts. He retracted his claws and tried to relax, still panting from the pain.

Techs in white coats moved with purpose around him, pretending he didn’t notice them, pretending he only mattered as research data for Trask’s mutant hunting. They examined him and plugged devices into him, took his blood, took skin samples and hair samples. They positioned him as they wished, jotting notes on their little palm pilots knowing that the collar was the only thing keeping him truly restrained for even he couldn’t fight the level of agony it produced for very long. They had to know if he got half a chance he’d rip their throats out and not lose an ounce of sleep over it.

He lay thinking of plans of escape, thinking of ways to make Trask pay before Logan killed the mutant hater. But he had other concerns as well and Trask knew it.

Kurt. He couldn’t go anywhere without taking the elf with him.

Damn. Trask must have figured out Kurt’s identity as Nightcrawler and the image inducer hadn’t fooled Trask either. Now who knew what these freaks would do to an eighteen year old kid. They wouldn’t care that Kurt was little more than a child. They’d do their dirty, stinkin’ tests, but most of all Logan worried about the experiments Trask had promised him were yet to come. There had been a sadistic gleam of pure sick joy in Trask’s eyes.

He didn’t really know much about Bolivar Trask other than he was a mutant hater. But Logan sensed the sadism, had smelled something on the man that he wasn’t yet willing to identify.

The crowd of techs parted to let Trask through. The man smiled down at him.

“I’ve been to see your little demon friend, Logan.”

“His name’s Kurt,” Logan spat back. “He has parents. He goes to school. He’s smart and funny and a pain in the ass sometimes. And if you hurt him, I swear I’ll rip you apart.”

Trask’s smile broadened. “You care for him. How sweet. You’ll be sorry you made me aware of just how much you care for him.”

Logan snarled and jerked against his restraints.

“It took a while for the boy to wake from that blow to the head my men gave him during your capture, but it was unavoidable. I couldn’t have him disappearing. And put up quite a struggle you’ll be proud to know. But this...” Trask showed Logan a little box with a button. “...subdued him. He can’t disappear. His powers are useless now.”

“You son-of-a-bitch. He’s just a kid.”

“But a mutant,” Trask replied with scorn. “He’s a demon from hell and ultimately I’ll be sending him back to that hell he came from.”

Trask stroked the button like it was a pet.

“And you, Logan,” Trask said leaning close. “Where are you from? What made you?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I knew.” Logan lunged against his restraints and almost got Trask’s nose in his teeth. Hlt tlt the flesh scrape and tasted blood.

“Damn you!” Trask put a handkerchief to his face and held it there. “You’re nothing but an animal!”

“That’s why they call me Wolverine,” Logan snarled back.

Trask’s breath heaved through clenched teeth. “You’ll pay for that.”

And just before Trask pushed the button, Logan knew what was to come was going to be bad.