It's been a while. His hand and that cold, crispy wet sensation. The very quiet crackling of the ice bottling inside the glass. A smile creeped up his stubbly cheeks as his lips tasted the fine drink. His throat hummed and burned as it went through. The slow, relaxing country music ringed in the background. And everything, even for now, even for the shortest time, made sense. No bullshit. No lies. No violence. No killing. It was clean. Logan inhales the rubby, cloudy air inside the bar, and licks his lips clean of the beverage.

"Refill?" The girl behind the counter asked. Logan nods once, and pushes the glass forward to her. She was cute. Short hair. Nice eyes. He didn't speak. Didn't have to. They just met eyes. Peace. Pouring more Daniels in, Logan tips her more than say, the minimum amount, and she responds by offering more attention to him "Anything else?" She adds, her smile still covering her face, her tone hinting

"What's your shift?"

Wolverine

Indestructible

"Mmm... Logan...Nnngh..." The girl coos, rocking her hips in rythm of his thrusts. His hands grasped at her skinny thighs, his nails biting down into her skin. Doing this was more than just sex. To him, it was freedom. The way their bodies consumed each other. How he grasped their hair. Controlled them. Hurt them. And they always liked it. There were no thoughts. Just animalistic rage and lust. It was the only time Logan could feel at ease with everything. After it was over, she crashed along him, her head resting on his hairy, sweaty chest "...I needed that..." She adds in, her voice crackling and quiet

He doesn't say anything. Not much to say. Nothing to say, really. They were both satisfied. All he did was compliment here with a smile and a wink, then moved his gaze up on the ceiling. The darkness around them eased both of them into a dreamless, relaxing sleep. Hours later, Logan's eyes slid open slowly, the sun waking him up. His left arm was still asleep, taking quick notice the girl wasn't near him. Probably putting on her make-up. Women, Logan thought, his eyes closing down for a few moments. He was thirsty.

"Logan?... Can you do me a favor?" She asks, her voice echoing out of the bathroom

"What?"

"Can you drive me back in the city?... I don't... well, trust cab-drivers."

He shrugged, putting on his jeans and buckling them up "Sure."

It wasn't the best way of going about things, but he had to know. He checks her uniform, precisely searching for a name tag. Stoya. Huh. He doesn't remember that name. Whatever. Speaking of cab-drivers, Logan checks his wallet, just to make sure how much he spent that night. 10 bucks left. And an unused condom. Fuck. Sitting down, he was just ready to close it, before finding a picture of Rogue somewhere inside. Hrm. She was a good kid. Even better now, he'd say. But that would be creepy to share, Logan figured. And it was. He was well into his late 100s, and Rogue was like, what, 19? Shit... she didn't look 19. Anyway... no time to think about her. Or the X-Men. Logan was on this journey for a reason. To get away from that. From Rogue. From Summers. From Jean...

He wasn't ready for the X-Men. He was a loner. Being on the road was the best thing he could do. It's been more than a year since he left. Jean always called him a coward. Tough man talking tough talk until everything goes to shit. She was right. Logan snaps the wallet shut, and clenches his jaw.

"You okay?" Stoya asks, finally coming out. All made-up, looking just as fine as she did

"...Yeah." He says, lightning up a cigarette. The sun came over his face, but he didn't mind. She comes over and kisses his shoulder, smiling

"...You don't look okay." She adds

"Ain't much of a talker either." He cuts her, getting up and putting on his grey shirt.

She raised a brow, her lips purching up some "...Owkay..." She shrugs, and gets up as well

"Ready when you are, darlin'."

Maybe he should call. It's been a few hours now. Logan leaned on his Harley, smoking a cigarette just at the side of the road. The cars roared by him. He cracked his knuckles, and smirked. Maybe he should... or... fuck it. No. People there probably hate him. Going in, calling everyone an asshole, then leaving just like that. Probably not a good way of starting a reputation. Logan clears his throat, and spits out his phlegm. Damn thing.

Just thinking about them made him feel angry. And alone. The only interaction he had with someone who could be called a friend was Deadpool. But that was months ago. Yet again, maybe he wouldn't be that good of an X-Man now anyway. He didn't have his healing factor anymore. Thinking about it, what good is he without that anyway? He could always take a hit, and get up and keep hitting. But now... now, not so much. Now he's like everyone else. Sure, there's the adamantium skeleton, but that isn't important. He sighed as he recalled. The scars on his chest were still fresh. This was the only time wounds closed normally for him. Slowly.

He wouldn't be of much use. Logan puffs some smoke out, then raises a brow. One of the incoming cars is approaching faster than the others. The wheels screeched, and his eyes went wide. It was coming straight for him! Logan jumps out of the way, the car smashing into his Harley, completely obliterating it in the process

The car didn't stop. It kept on. Logan could barely hear some screams and could see a hand coming out of the windows and flipping him off. Fuckers! He runs after the cry, but slows after the car almost dissapears on the street. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and his arms shivered with anticipation and anger

"Motherfuckers!" He roars, punching the thin-air in front of him. The bike was completely fucked. Assholes. It was getting dark too. Ugh. He should've been nicer with that Stoya chick. Maybe now, he wouldn't have to hich-hike like a damn bum. After some failed attempts, Logan was picked up by some truckers in a van. Nice people.

At least he had where to spend the night now. Motels weren't the best place to crash at. But it was the only option. And it had a phone. Coming in at the reception, Logan nodded in the general direction of the guy behind the counter

"Hey." The receptionist greeted

"Want a room. Whatcha' got, bub?"

"We've got rooms available. I'll just need some ID."

"Right." He digs through his wallet some, and pauses on that picture of Rogue. Hrm. Anyway... he picks out his driving license and offers it "There. Can I use your phone?"

"Sure thing."

"Thanks." Logan murmurs, heading in the back and picking up the phone and inhaling awkwardly. He dials up, and leans against the wall

There's the ringing. For a couple of seconds, it rings. And then, it clicks

"Hello?"

Click.

"Shit." Logan huffs, realizing he just smashed the phone down. It was an instinctive response. Out of all the damn X-Men, it had to be -her-?... He recognized Jean's voice just as easily as he could once recognize someone's scent. He pushes off the wall, and lightly punches the wall near him

He goes back to the reception, gets his room, and gets in bed. He should try again tomorrow.