C H A P T E R   6 :   T E L L   M E   I F   I T   H U R T S

"Mayday! Mayday!
The ship is slowly sinking
They think I'm crazy but they don't know the feeling
They're all around me
Circling like vultures
They wanna break me and wash away my colors
Wash away my colors

I cannot stop this sickness taking over
It takes control and drags me into nowhere
I need your help, I can't fight this forever
I know you're watching,
I can feel you out there"

"You can go now." Logan said to the class when the lesson finished. "Not you, Felicia."

Dyani and Bobby mouthed me 'good luck' as they passed by me towards the refreshing bath that awaited them in the mansion. Hiding my jealousy, I reached for a bottle of water watching from the corner of my eye Logan cleaning the sweat on his face with a white towel.

"This is how it's going to be." Logan said, gesturing for me to get closer. I was sweaty, but not tired, anxious, but not fearful. "I talk, you do. I exemplify, you repeat. As many times as I demand. No complains. I want verbal conversation to be as limited as possible."

"What if I have a question?"

"You ask it trying to use as little words as you can."

"Yes, sir." I sneered. Logan hung the towel in one of the machines a little too harshly.

"Look, kid," He retorted, turning my words against me once again. Knowing I had to be careful around this one was pissing me off. He knew how to play my game. Heck, he played it well. But isn't that what makes it so much fun to you? "As you may already know, I didn't know untill recently I would have to give you these lessons, and I'm gonna be completely honest with you, I'm not looking forward to them. I have no idea why Charles would think this was a good idea--"

"Have you tried asking him?" I interrupted in a mocking tone.

"He said we all need to step out of our comfort zones once in a while. But if I can't say no to this, I think he should have at least warned me earlier. I don't know you or your abilities and I've never done this before. Usually when mutants have physical powers that need to be worked on they enroll on extra combat training lessons, but I never had to give them in private."

"It's my first time as well--" Don't look at me like that! I couldn't let this opportunity pass!

"Charles told me about your claws." Logan played his trump card. Goddammit, Charles.  

"Bothered you're not the only one anymore?" I provoked.

"Yes." He said, catching me off guard. I didn't expect a honest answer. "Because I have been through a lot of pain to have these claws and I'm wondering if the same happened to you or if yours came naturally. Charles didn't mention your origins, said it was your personal life and that he had no right to expose your privacy without your consent, that it was your choice to reveal it. He praises giving his students freedom to decide who they want to be while they're here."

Even being mad at him, Logan still talked about Charles with an imense amount of respect and gratitude. I wondered what having them felt like.

"So... while I understand and respect your decision of not telling me anything, knowing a little bit about your abilities would help me helping you."

I swallowed. Logan and I did have more in common than what I thought. I pondered on whether or not I should lie. I could make something up. Invent a clean, happy story for me. Turn my background into a fairytale. But it was of no use. Pretending that pain wasn't there didn't unfortunately actually make it disappear. And Charles knew. He probably didn't tell Logan about how I got my abilities so that I would. This was a first step towards something else. My first test. And I didn't want to fail.

"Let's say... I've been hurt enough."

Logan nodded, his roughness going away in a glimpse of comprehension.

"Experiments?" He questioned, and his tone was low and almost hesitant, cautious.

My eyes closed for a brief second. Just the simple word was enough to send me into darkness.

"Yes." 

A tsunami of rage washed over Logan. His fists clenched abruptly. He looked at me this time through a different lense. I felt relief. There was no pity. Just empathy. He wasn't painting me as a victim. But admiring me as an equal survivor.

"So young." He let out in an enraged breath. "Nobody deserves."

"Well, the thing is the world doesn't give a damn about what people deserve or not."

He looked at me, a little taken aback. What? I could be deep as well. I could be many things. I just chose very carefully which layer of mine to show, and to whom. Life had conditioned me like that.

"Can I see them?" 

I swallowed hard. Showing them to Logan felt way more intimate and difficult than showing them to Bobby or anyone else. It was the symbolism behind it. Logan understood all the agony that came along. Getting my claws out was like letting him read a part of me.

But then I smirked. As always, humor came to my rescue. I painted over my pain with a layer of mockery. Covering my wounds with sarcasm and teasing was the defense mechanism that allowed me to get through most of the days.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Logan rolled his eyes and just like that we were back to our usual selves. Thank God because I couldn't stand mushiness and most likely neither could Logan. He was either my mirror or the wall behind me, either my equal or my total opposite.

"That's gross." And then he contracted his hands and three long claws came out of his fists. It must have hurt, but Logan didn't even flinch. In that moment, I felt intimidated. His claws were way bigger than my cat nails. They seemed unbreakable, able to cut through Earth's core. Or through any kind of tension. Like they could slice planets and stars and black holes and still remain untouchable.

"Is that... adamantium?" I inquired with more curiosity than I intended. I wanted to touch them. See if they felt as undying as they looked. And as lethal. 

I didn't move.

"Yes." He confirmed, and his voice cracked. I looked up. He was like me. Didn't want to look at his claws for more time than he needed. I had to ease the tension.

"I'm sure they're of great use at parties. You'll never need those stupid toothpicks for appetizers."

Unlike what I had expected, Logan didn't frown or scowl at me. Instead he retracted his claws, gave me a thankful glance and the side of his lips lifted up in a half smile.

"I never use them anyway. Half food is not for me."

I smiled. A genuine smile. Coming from nowhere. After making sure nobody was watching, I let out a heavy sight and expanded my fingers, ignoring the pain as cat claws slowly replaced my normal nails. I never painted them. I wanted to have as little as possible to do with them.

"They're... not what I expected." Was all Logan said.

"What were you expecting?"

"Something less... stunning."

I didn't get offended. I knew what he meant. He expected something more deformed. A monstruosity. Not something so well made that it actually seemed natural. Beauty and wickedness often liked holding hands.

Logan's brown eyes dived into mine with a question. I nodded, and supressed a shiver when his fingers reached for my claws. 

"You can feel them, can't you?"

"As if they were just another part I was born with." I agreed.

"I need to examine them to see what we can work with, but tell me... tell me if I'm hurting you."

You aren't.

"Go ahead."

As his fingers carefully turned mine around, my heart bumped in my chest and I tried to reduce its speed. It was annoying knowing Logan could hear it as well, most likely even better, than I could. I was used to being the only person with access to things other people were completely oblivious to it. Having that happening to me wasn't as fun. 

"They seem... vibranium?" Logan suggested without looking at me.

"Ten points to Wolverine." 

He looked up and despite my efforts my heart sped up. It didn't help that his was at a stupid, steady beat. My hope was that maybe he was so immersed in inspecting my claws that he was paying no attention to his surroundings.

"It's a very rare metal. Nearly indestructible."

"Perhaps one day we should do claw-wrestling. See which material really is the strongest."

Wolverine smiled, just a little. Then he looked down at my hands again. 

"Does it hurt?" He questioned as he slid his fingers over the polished surface of my nails, testing their resistance. I forced my voice to speak over the lump in my throat.

"No. Not right now."

"Tell me if it hurts." He asked seriously. His fingers kept examining my claws with professionalism, as if he was a doctor. I was astonished at myself, at how I hadn't snapped already. I only liked physical contact when it would lead me somewhere. Being examined made me uncomfortable. It was a trigger back to my old lab rat days. But with Logan I felt no fear. I watched as he took some measurements and wrote them down, how he examined my claws' extension and dimension with attention. That had been done to me before, but never with so much care.

I was slightly aware of the presence of his touch, but I was more preoccupied keeping my reactions under control. Sometimes it was like my claws had their own will, longing for tragedy, and cutting the teacher's arms out would probably not get me any A's.

I flinched involuntarily when Logan gave a tighter squeeze to one of my nails.

"Sorry." He apologized. "What... what does it feel like?"

I didn't have to think much on an answer.

"Like someone is sticking needles under your fingernails while you're asleep. You wake up and you're crying and you don't know why. But one thing you know, though: you will never forget the pain. Not its memory. But the actual feeling."

He let go of my nails instantly like I had stuck him a needle. My heart finally decided to go back to its normal rate. What was happening to me? I didn't mean to be so brutally honest. Nor so bitter.

"Do you hate them?"

I swallowed again. It was like having a tennis ball stuck in my throat.

"All the time."

"I can relate. We'll work with your anger. It can be a good fighting fuel when used correctly. In the right dosage. Too much and it will quickly make you go off the rails."

"Show me the ways of the Force." I asked. I heard footsteps coming towards us, and I quickly contracted my hands to make my claws disappear. It was Jean Grey, and she didn't seem too happy.

"Shouldn't you two be training?"

"We are discussing Felicia's abilities first, Jean." Logan answered, his tone as gentle as the spring breeze. With me he was more like a hurricane. Jean glanced over at me and I faked a smile.

"Want to train with us?"

Jean rolled her eyes.

"I hope you will not waste the opportunity that has been given to you with childishness. Logan is a wonderful teacher."

"And also a lucky one, since I'm also a wonderful student." I grinned at her, but her rigid expression didn't fade away.

"Have a good class, Logan." She said, sharing a smile with him before going away.

Logan scowled at me.

"Was that really necessary?"

"What?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "She annoys me."

"Jean doesn't annoy anyone." Logan replied harshly, almost in a defensive tone.

"I'm not anyone."

Logan gave up with a sigh, running a hand through his beard. 

"Jean's right. Let's train." I followed him towards one of the mats. I felt more uncomfortable about the idea of being close to him than about the possibility of having other eyes watching us. "Today I want to see what you can do. Charles informed me you're experient in several martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. What about armed combat?"

"I can handle some weapons. Preferably if they're martial arts related. Knives, daggers, katanas, shuriken... not guns, though, I... I don't like them."

"Okay." One good thing Logan had: he knew when not to ask questions. "We'll divide your training into those two categories, hand-to-hand and armed combat. I want you to be able to use your body as a weapon whenever possible. But I also want you to be ready to grab anything that you have in hand and know how to use it if necessary."

I clicked my tongue. "Are you preparing me for war, or something?"

Logan stared at me, so seriously he erased any trace of jeer I had left in my face.

"Life is war, Felicia. And you've already been through more battles than you should have. Do you want to win or not?"

"Yes."

"Then try to hit me."

"What?"

"Show me what you can do. Or do you only like showing off your moves when you have a crowd that you know is not at your level?"

Uff, this wolf sure knew how to push a cat's buttons.

I threw myself forward and tried to punch him, but he dodged easily.

"Wrong. Too impulsive. You should have wasted a few seconds evaluating my position and trying to find the best spots to hit me. A warrior doesn't go to war without studying his enemy."

I gritted my teeth. He was right, of course, but something about him just made me lose my mind.

"Understood, Sun Tzu."

"Again."

This time, I did as he told. I faked a punch at the right and went for his left side, but he guessed it and made me trip. I landed hard on my ass in the training mat, my pride bleeding. Pissed off, I stood up and decided to go with my legs. They never failed me.

I turned around, throwing a rotating kick that usually took the breath out of my opponents' lungs. But Logan wasn't like any of them. He grabbed my ankle in an experienced way and made me fall again. I growled. He smirked. A big, self-satisfied smirk.

Dumbass.

"Have you run out of batteries already?"

"I'm sun-energy powered." I replied, getting up swiftly. His eyes didn't even dart to my chest like most male's would. What a gentleman.

"Well, hurry up then, it's getting dark."

I tried a strike again with renewed fury. This time Logan grabbed me by my wrist and made me spin, my back colliding harshly against his hard chest.

"You're unfocused." His breath fell upon my ear as he kept me firmly trapped against him. But I didn't feel trapped. "You're using too much anger, letting it cloud your judgement. Rely on your strengths, Felicia. Use your senses. Focus."

Urgh, can't you see that I'm trying?

He let go of me and we came face to face once again. His fists were held high, protecting his face. We were walking in circles, evaluating each other, like a hunter and a prey. I focused on his breathing. Steady. His posture. Correct. He was solid rock and I felt like small droplets of water trying to cause some erosion. 

I needed to turn into a wave.

Like a cheetah, I ran. Like a tiger, I attacked. Like air, he dodged. Punch after punch, kick after kick. With any other opponent who wasn't physically as strong and as trained as Logan, I would have won already. But it was like he knew where and when and how I would attack. Every. Damn. Time.

I hated being so predictable, so I stopped thinking. I let the adrenaline invade me and push me forward. I let my instincts guide me. I faked a punch and just like I suspected Logan dodged it and waited for another. Instead, I bent down and slid over the mat like a snake. Before he could even turn around, I got up, and like a cat jumped higher than any normal human could, landing on his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his strong neck. I smirked when I felt his muscles tensing underneath my legs.

His hands went to my shins, trying to make me release him, but my grip was unyielding. So he bent down slightly and his hands went up to my thighs to try and drop me. 

But him leaning forward was exactly what I wanted him to do. Taking advantage of the momentum, I quickly unwrapped my legs, bounced forward, did a perfect backflip in the air and at the last part of the motion threw a kick to his stomach with both my feet that made him retreat several steps.

I landed smoothly on the training mat in front of Logan, watching him catch his breath. He glanced at me, a mix of surprise, admiration and annoyance gracing his features.

"You're the Black Cat."

And with that he swept off the grin from my face. It was no use denying.

"What gave me away? Was it the rare hair color? The mesmerizing neither-blue-nor-green eyes? The gorgeous body?"

As always, Wolverine ignored my provocation, his forehead wrinkling.

"I wonder what else Charles hid from me."

"Probably everything you do not need to know. He told you the crucial things, I'm sure."

"I think I had the right to know who I would be teaching."

I crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

"What, afraid of being appointed as an accomplice?"

Logan shook his head, shaking my expectations of how he'd react. He never ceased to amaze me.

"We all get lost sometimes. I... was not always as well-behaved as I am now. In the past... well, I did a lot of bad things. I paid for my sins and regretted my mistakes. I have a feeling you stealing is a way to cope with... what happened to you. Maybe you did it before and going back to it gave you a sense of familiarity when everything seemed different and unrecognizable. When you didn't know who you were anymore."

I felt my insides hurt like he was twisting them in his hands with his bare words. I kept quiet, searching for a way out. I felt emotionally trapped. I never thought this would turn into a therapy session. And I couldn't find an exit.

"I argued with Charles about this." Logan kept going. "I didn't want to do this. But he said you needed help. I asked him why me. He said my help would be the most appropriate. I can see why now. We not only share similar traits but similar traumas as well. I agreed to do this because I'm not heartless enough to refuse to help. And I'd say yes again now that I know your alias. It doesn't change a thing. If anything, it gives me better insight on your working methods. Your victims are mostly men."

I almost sighed of relief. We were back to comfortable ground.

"I'm sure you can understand why." I said, playing with the smirk on my face. "They are... more easily persuaded. Sides and mentalities can change quickly when presented with the right attributes."

"So you rely on seduction. That's not gonna help you much in a fight. I'm not here to teach you how to steal or distract, or how... to have fun in a combat, I'm sure you know all about that. I'm here to teach you how to win as fast as you can. So forget about choosing the sexier moves to make men distracted and focus on choosing the moves that will actually make you end the fight earlier. Or get through it alive."

"What's the fun in that?" I complained.

"The fun is in increasing your chances of survival. And not getting yourself killed because you were more worried about checking your reflection on the guy's eyes."

I huffed.

"I'll teach you how to take advantage of your claws and senses. How to improve your reflexes and benefit from a wide range of different techniques and fighting styles. But as much as we work the body... the mind is yours for the taking. You'll have to learn for your own how to make the most out of your anger, how to use your emotions to boost your skills and not paralyse them. It's up to you to understand fighting is a serious thing where bones get broken and blood gets shed and people get killed. You have responsibilities now. You can't just throw yourself in it and hope you'll make it out alive. You'll have to leave your craves for enjoyment at the door if you want to have a chance on surviving in the outside world. Where the real battles unfold."

"So what, you want to make me a killing machine?" I accused, acid draining from my words. Been there, done that. You don't need to lecture me on that. "Instill on me a thirst for blood? At least a thirst for pleasure is healthier, don't you think?"

"No." Logan said in an exasperated sigh. "No, I don't want to turn you into any machine. You are not a robot and I do not expect you to follow my orders blindly. I want you to question me."

Well, that's a progress from the beginning of this lesson. But Wolverine hadn't yet finished.

"I want to bring out the humanity in you in case you've forgotten about it." He took a step forward, his voice low but firm. "Forget about the thief or the guinea pig or the femme fatale or any other version of you. I'm not looking for the multiple characters you can turn into. I don't care about the labels. I'm searching for the human."

Logan leaned forward, just a little, his voice infiltrating my sensory system, his eyes piercing through me. I wondered what he would see on the other side.

"And I'm gonna find it."

"Take me over the walls below
Fly forever
Don't let me go
I need a savior to heal my pain
When I become my worst enemy
The enemy

Take me high and I'll sing
Oh you make everything okay (okay, okay)
We are one in the same
Oh you take all of the pain away (away, away)
Save me if I become
My demons"

A/N: Another picture of Felicia in this chapter! Song is "My Demons" by Starset, which I absolutely love.

QUESTION: Who's your favorite Marvel character?

Mine are Felicia & Logan (obviously), Loki, Winter Soldier and Punisher. Let's just say I love antiheroes!! (Though Captain America & Thor are baes too).