Summery: In a dingy bar Logan hides from the rain and feelings and little
girls and makes the mistake of not killing someone.
Disclaimer: I wished I owned them, Marvel does.
Hockey Games and Monster Trucks
Logan had smelt the rain in the air for the last fifty miles and was now just feeling the first drops. He didn't mind rain usually but riding a motorbike wet was not fun. He mused to himself that he might rust. Up ahead he spotted a cluster of lights incased in fog. Hopping to beat the impending down pour he sped up.
The gas station was annexed to a dinner and bar, not the type of place that attracted families of tourists. Instead the décor attracted truckers and bikers and people who were trouble. Cracked windows and pealing paint made up the building and mud made up the parking lot.
Logan pulled up aside a row of bikes; none nice as his but each well loved and cared for. Logan skipped the dinner and went into the bar. He paused inside the door to take in his new surroundings. The place wasn't much, like every other dive bar he had been in. He made his way down the bar and picked out three different exists that didn't include the front door. He found a stool at the far end of the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer. Dusty TVs were suspended from the ceiling tuned to monster truck races and pro wrestling. Above the bar was a hockey game, Oilers verses the Flames, a grudge match always means a good game.
He pulled out a cigar and it made him think of the girl. Suddenly he didn't feel like smoking. He knew he had to stop thinking about her, he had to forget that she wasn't scared of him and how beautiful her skin felt, something only he would ever know and cherish. He should forget her. Logan had seen her smile in a window the other day but when he looked closer it was gone, then he had remembered that he left her. She had made him question his sanity, was he crazy or was this what caring felt like? He couldn't remember ever feeling like this before, and that pissed him off. There was too much that he couldn't remember.
He forced himself to light the cigar and concentrate on the game. He wished the booze would dull his senses.
The bar began to fill up with like-minded people; nobody likes driving in the rain. Half way through his second beer a kid took the stool next to him. They ignored each other and focused on their distractions.
The game ended with a loud mouth yapping about the highlights, Logan wondered if the rain had let up. The late news came on; the bartender shirked his main responsibility of keeping the outside world at a distance for his customers and didn't change the channel. Logan tuned it out and focused more fully on the bottle in front of him.
At some point near the dregs of the bottle the kid asked the bartender to turn up the volume. Logan looked up to see what had caught the kid's attention. The former Senator Kelly was giving a heartfelt speech on the virtues of mutants.
Logan shook his head, like everyone else in the world, the Almighty Wheels was a hypocrite. He preached equality and using your powers for good and you must be nice to the norms and not trick them or hurt them. But because it suited his politics, Chuck allowed the Blue Bitch to prance around Washington. At the same time Logan didn't blame him, she was probably useful. They had a good hold on her and yet Logan could see Chuck never blackmailing her because that wouldn't be very nice. He just wanted another chance at her and Shaggy. Wheels had promised to contact him if those two ever wanted to play again.
Logan focused his attention on the kid and wondered if he was like him. He wondered why it suddenly mattered to him. Logan studied him in the mirror behind the bar. The boy wore military fatigues. Glancing down at his scruffy boots confirmed to Logan that the kid shopped at military surplus stores and had not been to boot camp. Logan didn't care were people shopped, what irked him were the ones that acted like solders but had never been one. He suspected that this was what the kid was like. Logan then noticed a line of badges that ran down one arm of his jacket. The Klan emblem spook volumes; this kid was no mutie, just a punk looking for an ass kicking. All the badges advertised fidelity to various hate groups.
"Jesus," the kid said to no one and every one. "Can you believe this shit?" the question was rhetorical. Logan focused again on the last swallows in the bottle. He didn't recognize the last patch. Logan didn't like not knowing things. He tried to figure out what the letters on the badge stood for. But he couldn't figure out what FOH could mean.
"Can you believe that two faced SOB?" the question was directed at him. Logan kept his comment about exactly how many faces that bitch had to himself. There was something about the kid that nagged the back of his mind, something important that he needed to puzzle out. Something about his sent worried Logan.
"I use to respect the man." Logan focused on the sent. "I wanted to be just like him." It was familiar, yet not. "Then he became a god dam mutie lover!" The kid was too young to have been with Weapon X "I'm on my way down to DC. We're gonna make registration happen. Get the Senator to change his mind." Logan kept his laugh to himself.
"Trust me kid, you won't change Kelly's mind." Logan gave up on the puzzle; the kid was pissing him off and headed for six new reasons to hate mutants. The kid didn't like being disagreed with and Logan didn't care. He threw some money on the bar and headed to the door.
The parking lot was worse then before but the air smelt clean. Logan liked it, after the stale air of the bar it was refreshing. Logan wiped the rain off his seat maneuvered out of the lot. Back on the road he continued north to answers and solitude and hiding form the girl and his feelings. He focused on the road, reveling in having the slick highway to himself.
As the sun began to peak over the horizon to the right of him he pulled to the side of the road. He swore out loud at himself and God and everyone for his stupidity. The sunrise was like a light bulb going off over his head; he didn't notice the cliche. Logan was tempted to turn around. He was tempted to call the school. He looked down the highway behind him. Logan was an excellent tracker even without his mutation, finding the kid would not be difficult. Maybe he could tell Mystique, no defiantly not that. He wanted to be the one to gut the little bastard. Instead Logan decided to let fate sort it out. He just wished he could be there to see the reunion between mother and son. It would be touching or at least fun to watch. Hell it would be fucking hilarious if Daddy showed up.
Hockey Games and Monster Trucks
Logan had smelt the rain in the air for the last fifty miles and was now just feeling the first drops. He didn't mind rain usually but riding a motorbike wet was not fun. He mused to himself that he might rust. Up ahead he spotted a cluster of lights incased in fog. Hopping to beat the impending down pour he sped up.
The gas station was annexed to a dinner and bar, not the type of place that attracted families of tourists. Instead the décor attracted truckers and bikers and people who were trouble. Cracked windows and pealing paint made up the building and mud made up the parking lot.
Logan pulled up aside a row of bikes; none nice as his but each well loved and cared for. Logan skipped the dinner and went into the bar. He paused inside the door to take in his new surroundings. The place wasn't much, like every other dive bar he had been in. He made his way down the bar and picked out three different exists that didn't include the front door. He found a stool at the far end of the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer. Dusty TVs were suspended from the ceiling tuned to monster truck races and pro wrestling. Above the bar was a hockey game, Oilers verses the Flames, a grudge match always means a good game.
He pulled out a cigar and it made him think of the girl. Suddenly he didn't feel like smoking. He knew he had to stop thinking about her, he had to forget that she wasn't scared of him and how beautiful her skin felt, something only he would ever know and cherish. He should forget her. Logan had seen her smile in a window the other day but when he looked closer it was gone, then he had remembered that he left her. She had made him question his sanity, was he crazy or was this what caring felt like? He couldn't remember ever feeling like this before, and that pissed him off. There was too much that he couldn't remember.
He forced himself to light the cigar and concentrate on the game. He wished the booze would dull his senses.
The bar began to fill up with like-minded people; nobody likes driving in the rain. Half way through his second beer a kid took the stool next to him. They ignored each other and focused on their distractions.
The game ended with a loud mouth yapping about the highlights, Logan wondered if the rain had let up. The late news came on; the bartender shirked his main responsibility of keeping the outside world at a distance for his customers and didn't change the channel. Logan tuned it out and focused more fully on the bottle in front of him.
At some point near the dregs of the bottle the kid asked the bartender to turn up the volume. Logan looked up to see what had caught the kid's attention. The former Senator Kelly was giving a heartfelt speech on the virtues of mutants.
Logan shook his head, like everyone else in the world, the Almighty Wheels was a hypocrite. He preached equality and using your powers for good and you must be nice to the norms and not trick them or hurt them. But because it suited his politics, Chuck allowed the Blue Bitch to prance around Washington. At the same time Logan didn't blame him, she was probably useful. They had a good hold on her and yet Logan could see Chuck never blackmailing her because that wouldn't be very nice. He just wanted another chance at her and Shaggy. Wheels had promised to contact him if those two ever wanted to play again.
Logan focused his attention on the kid and wondered if he was like him. He wondered why it suddenly mattered to him. Logan studied him in the mirror behind the bar. The boy wore military fatigues. Glancing down at his scruffy boots confirmed to Logan that the kid shopped at military surplus stores and had not been to boot camp. Logan didn't care were people shopped, what irked him were the ones that acted like solders but had never been one. He suspected that this was what the kid was like. Logan then noticed a line of badges that ran down one arm of his jacket. The Klan emblem spook volumes; this kid was no mutie, just a punk looking for an ass kicking. All the badges advertised fidelity to various hate groups.
"Jesus," the kid said to no one and every one. "Can you believe this shit?" the question was rhetorical. Logan focused again on the last swallows in the bottle. He didn't recognize the last patch. Logan didn't like not knowing things. He tried to figure out what the letters on the badge stood for. But he couldn't figure out what FOH could mean.
"Can you believe that two faced SOB?" the question was directed at him. Logan kept his comment about exactly how many faces that bitch had to himself. There was something about the kid that nagged the back of his mind, something important that he needed to puzzle out. Something about his sent worried Logan.
"I use to respect the man." Logan focused on the sent. "I wanted to be just like him." It was familiar, yet not. "Then he became a god dam mutie lover!" The kid was too young to have been with Weapon X "I'm on my way down to DC. We're gonna make registration happen. Get the Senator to change his mind." Logan kept his laugh to himself.
"Trust me kid, you won't change Kelly's mind." Logan gave up on the puzzle; the kid was pissing him off and headed for six new reasons to hate mutants. The kid didn't like being disagreed with and Logan didn't care. He threw some money on the bar and headed to the door.
The parking lot was worse then before but the air smelt clean. Logan liked it, after the stale air of the bar it was refreshing. Logan wiped the rain off his seat maneuvered out of the lot. Back on the road he continued north to answers and solitude and hiding form the girl and his feelings. He focused on the road, reveling in having the slick highway to himself.
As the sun began to peak over the horizon to the right of him he pulled to the side of the road. He swore out loud at himself and God and everyone for his stupidity. The sunrise was like a light bulb going off over his head; he didn't notice the cliche. Logan was tempted to turn around. He was tempted to call the school. He looked down the highway behind him. Logan was an excellent tracker even without his mutation, finding the kid would not be difficult. Maybe he could tell Mystique, no defiantly not that. He wanted to be the one to gut the little bastard. Instead Logan decided to let fate sort it out. He just wished he could be there to see the reunion between mother and son. It would be touching or at least fun to watch. Hell it would be fucking hilarious if Daddy showed up.