I'm Movin' On
by Jess
21May03 to 08June03
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine and neither is the song, which is by Rascal Flatts. It is truly a terrific song; I cried the first time I heard it. I think everyone can relate to it, at some point in his or her life. The lyrics that are in the story are between these signs: ~... I know they have a name, I just forget what it is. :)
Summary: Logan's thoughts of the situation at-hand. This is a stand- alone; no sequel will be written. :)
Rating: PG-13 or R, for language.
Spoilers: Both X-Men movies. I'm not delving into the comics or the show in this one.
Feedback: It'd be greatly appreciated. :)
I'M MOVIN' ON
He missed the feel of the metal around his neck and between his fingers as he used to toy with it. It surprised him how a part of his life that had been conceived in such severe pain and agony had become a part of his persona, the very person he thought himself to be. Part of him regretted his last act of defiance against his "creator," throwing his dog tags away to the will of the true greater power in the world, should there be one at that.
The bed beneath his back felt suddenly uncomfortable; he could feel every rusty spring delving into his muscles. He badly wanted out. He was fully dressed in boots and jeans and t-shirt and leather jacket. He glanced at the floor beside the now empty dresser. His bag was packed; he was ready for flight.
~
I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long I'm movin' on
~
He was emotionally drained and he could feel the emptiness eating away at his soul. He had been through an emotional hell the past few months, with the repulsive climax bringing a torrential rain at the end. He had held himself together with the disturbing thoughts that Jean never belonged to him, only to Scott, and that there was a young woman who still wanted him, no matter what boy she had at her side. The thoughts weren't exactly hopeful-they only made him spiteful-but he still ran the ideas through his mind's eye. Seeing Scott's pain made his go away. The raw fact that Jean was dead shone in every movement made by the younger man and Logan felt that he himself had no right to show any sign of grief. She had never been his.
He closed his eyes but quickly reopened them. His eyelids had turned on him. Scenes of his torture haunted him in his waking hours now. He had a deep ache inside of him, a tugging that whispered that the mansion was the reason he was so distraught. A new home, a new life, would get him out of this goddamned funk.
~
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different, but they're always the same
They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it
They'll never allow me to change
~
He put his arm behind his head and stared at the blank ceiling. He would miss Rogue. He had promised her a while ago that he would take care of her. He could attempt to reason with himself that Bobby was there to take care of her now, that she wasn't his responsibility anymore, but he knew that was a chicken shit way out of a rock and hard place. He sighed and drummed his fingers against his thigh. There was no denying the fact that he was about to break her heart once more.
~
Well I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong
I'm movin' on
~
He sat up and put his feet on the floor. It was time to suck it up and leave, no more of this lying around shit. Time to act like a real man, he told himself. But in the back of his mind, he could hear a small voice speaking to him. He furrowed his brow as he tried to ignore his conscience, the conscience he had only listened to a few select times in his life.
Running would only prove that he wasn't a man.
He stood, almost in defiance to himself, and breathed heavily beside the bed. He could feel the anger burning inside of him and he wasn't quite sure where to place it. He threw out his claws and relished in the pain, the pain he deserved, and plunged his claws into the mattress and swiped his arm down the length of it. He retracted the indestructible blades and grimaced. They would always remind him that he was abnormal, a mutant, a freak of nature, and no one would accept him in the real world. Ever.
He strode angrily to the door and grabbed his bag. He flung open the door. He marched down the hallway and stomped noisily down the stairway. It was two o'clock in the morning, most of the residents were asleep, and he didn't mind stirring them a little but he wasn't about to awaken anyone purposely to offer his goodbyes. They would try to convince him to stay and he would only feel worse and the last thing he wanted was his self- righteous attitude to fade at that moment.
~
I'm movin' on
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
~
Logan took Scott's motorcycle as some sort of ritual and he could almost see Scott shaking his head but he had an aching feeling that Scott wouldn't be upset. It was almost expected now.
He didn't like that he had established habits at Xavier's mansion. He didn't appreciate the fact that he had become predictable. He had never been that way and the idea that the people he had lived with could tell what he was about to do frightened him in such a way that he sped away from the mansion faster than he had expected to. He looked down and sighed. There was barely any gas left in the tank. He guided himself to the nearest filling station.
~
And I know there's no guarantees
But I'm not alone
~
He was inside the nearly empty gas station, searching for some more cigars or cigarettes or even nicotine gum, anything with a kick to ease his nerves. There were two other vehicles besides his own outside and only two other people inside, including the salesclerk. Both men were watching him warily. Logan just rolled his eyes and grabbed some cigarettes and searched the refrigerated aisle for a bottle of beer.
Another vehicle pulled into the gas station and the bright headlights shone off the glass cases, blinding Logan's eyes, and he shielded them quickly. He turned with a sneer to see who had driven in. A tiny sports car stopped suddenly in a parking spot and Logan shook his head. Those fucking yuppies and their dumb ass cars.
~
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see is the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that
Those days are gone
~
Logan quickly threw cash on the counter for his pack of cigarettes and a six-pack and walked away from the twenty-something clerk who was saying timidly after him as he opened a longneck, "Sir, you can't drink that when you dr..."
Logan tossed him a dirty look and said angrily, "Look, kid, mind your own business."
The kid looked down and Logan exited the building. He sat on the curb and took a long swig of his first beer. The cool liquid refreshed him and he closed his eyes and bowed his head. Why was it so fucking hard for him to leave the fucking city? He was not even eight miles away from the mansion yet; at this rate, he would be nowhere no time soon.
The person from the sports car was approaching. A familiar smell inundated Logan's nostrils and his synapses were firing away throughout his body. Every nerve jumped to attention in his body and his ears perked up. Familiar steps. He raised his eyes and pursed his lips.
~
I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
~
Rogue stood before him quietly with an unrecognizable look on her face. Logan stared up at her, the bottle limp in his hand. She pulled her lips tight and just stared down at him. Tears escaped her eyes and Logan tried desperately to figure out if she was irate or miserable.
"What are you doing here?"
Her question was innocent but Logan knew she was just trying to stall and, at best, get him to come back home.
Home.
"You know."
She nodded shortly and pulled her arms tight over her chest, standing against the chill of the early morning, and asked, "Why?"
Logan looked down. He honestly didn't have an answer, a sufficient answer, and he just wanted her to stop asking questions. She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes. She could wait the night out for him to speak to her and to share him lame-ass reason for abandoning her, once again. The coward in him escaped and he avoided the inquiry.
"What are you doing here?"
Her eyes opened, but they were just slits burning into him. "Don't be a bastard."
"Why do you care what I do, huh?" he growled, raising the beer to his mouth. His life was not her business, his voice screamed on the inside. She shouldn't be there, at the gas station, at the mansion, at Laughlin City. She should still be in Mississippi.
Without him.
~
I've loved like I should
But lived like I shouldn't
~
"You're not really going to run again, are you?"
He could feel the sarcasm searing at the tip of his tongue. He could easily cut her to pieces with words stronger than adamantium. He could brush past her and leave her at the gas station with all her questions unanswered. Instead, he put the beer on the cement and looked up at her with bleak eyes.
"I have to."
~
I had to lose everything to find out
~
Her head swayed fervently and she looked at him, her brown eyes pleading with him. "Please don't do this again." He lowered his head, trying to avoid her. She sighed. "Do you not get it, Logan? We c... I care about you, Logan! Why can't you see that you belong at that school? With us, with me? Why is it always about you and your goddamned need to be alone? Everyone needs people-"
"Not me, kid," he growled.
"It's Marie, Logan, my fucking name is Marie!" she screamed. "You can't get personal for just a second?"
He stood and stalked past her, the urge to run growing. She was on his heels, he could almost feel her breath on the hairs of his neck.
"I need you, Logan, all right?" she cried. "I admit it. And you fucking promised you would take care of me. How is this taking care of me? You leave whenever you can!"
He turned and grabbed her arm, pulling her close. She stared up at him, stunned and, for the first time, scared of him. He snarled, "This is me taking care of you. If I stay, you'll get hurt in some way."
She took a deep breath and another tear rolled down her cheek. "This is hurting me right now, Logan."
~
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I'm movin' on
~
He released her quickly-even though he knew she hadn't been referring to their physical contact-and stumbled backwards. He shook his head and said, "Trust me, kid, I know what's good for you."
"If you honestly did, you'd stay."
It was her last stand in a dying fight. He knew her stance and he knew his own. He met her eyes and shrugged off his jacket. He came closer to her and threw it around her. It rested on her shoulders, covering her upper body, and he held the collar of it, his hands resting on her chest.
"I'm not leaving forever, you know that." She didn't reply, just pierced him with her eyes. He tried to lighten the situation. "I'm not going to die, either; you know that from past experiences." She glared. He cringed and pulled her closer. He pressed his lips against her hairline and said, "Be careful with that Bobby kid. I don't trust him."
"You don't trust anyone," she whispered as more tears built up.
"I trust you." He saw the sarcasm this time in her own eyes, but she held back. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "Just trust me." She nodded, not having faith in her voice, and returned the embrace. He felt her arms grip his middle and he said with a smile, "Keep the jacket safe. No holes, all right? I like it."
She pulled her head up and nodded, smiling gently. He pushed her hair behind her ears and rubbed her shoulders. He took a deep breath and cupped her face and brought his head down to her. He kissed her softly, enough to let her know that he would be back, enough to keep them safe, enough to get them through the separation. He whispered against her lips, "See ya soon, Marie."
He backed up to the bike, keeping his eyes on her, and started the motorcycle. He drove away and left her standing there. She followed him until the taillight disappeared. She turned and stared at the six-pack of beer, the half-empty one sitting a few feet from the rest.
~
I'm movin' on
Yep, that's it. Angst, anyone? :) I would like to hear your thoughts on it!
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine and neither is the song, which is by Rascal Flatts. It is truly a terrific song; I cried the first time I heard it. I think everyone can relate to it, at some point in his or her life. The lyrics that are in the story are between these signs: ~... I know they have a name, I just forget what it is. :)
Summary: Logan's thoughts of the situation at-hand. This is a stand- alone; no sequel will be written. :)
Rating: PG-13 or R, for language.
Spoilers: Both X-Men movies. I'm not delving into the comics or the show in this one.
Feedback: It'd be greatly appreciated. :)
I'M MOVIN' ON
He missed the feel of the metal around his neck and between his fingers as he used to toy with it. It surprised him how a part of his life that had been conceived in such severe pain and agony had become a part of his persona, the very person he thought himself to be. Part of him regretted his last act of defiance against his "creator," throwing his dog tags away to the will of the true greater power in the world, should there be one at that.
The bed beneath his back felt suddenly uncomfortable; he could feel every rusty spring delving into his muscles. He badly wanted out. He was fully dressed in boots and jeans and t-shirt and leather jacket. He glanced at the floor beside the now empty dresser. His bag was packed; he was ready for flight.
~
I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long I'm movin' on
~
He was emotionally drained and he could feel the emptiness eating away at his soul. He had been through an emotional hell the past few months, with the repulsive climax bringing a torrential rain at the end. He had held himself together with the disturbing thoughts that Jean never belonged to him, only to Scott, and that there was a young woman who still wanted him, no matter what boy she had at her side. The thoughts weren't exactly hopeful-they only made him spiteful-but he still ran the ideas through his mind's eye. Seeing Scott's pain made his go away. The raw fact that Jean was dead shone in every movement made by the younger man and Logan felt that he himself had no right to show any sign of grief. She had never been his.
He closed his eyes but quickly reopened them. His eyelids had turned on him. Scenes of his torture haunted him in his waking hours now. He had a deep ache inside of him, a tugging that whispered that the mansion was the reason he was so distraught. A new home, a new life, would get him out of this goddamned funk.
~
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different, but they're always the same
They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it
They'll never allow me to change
~
He put his arm behind his head and stared at the blank ceiling. He would miss Rogue. He had promised her a while ago that he would take care of her. He could attempt to reason with himself that Bobby was there to take care of her now, that she wasn't his responsibility anymore, but he knew that was a chicken shit way out of a rock and hard place. He sighed and drummed his fingers against his thigh. There was no denying the fact that he was about to break her heart once more.
~
Well I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong
I'm movin' on
~
He sat up and put his feet on the floor. It was time to suck it up and leave, no more of this lying around shit. Time to act like a real man, he told himself. But in the back of his mind, he could hear a small voice speaking to him. He furrowed his brow as he tried to ignore his conscience, the conscience he had only listened to a few select times in his life.
Running would only prove that he wasn't a man.
He stood, almost in defiance to himself, and breathed heavily beside the bed. He could feel the anger burning inside of him and he wasn't quite sure where to place it. He threw out his claws and relished in the pain, the pain he deserved, and plunged his claws into the mattress and swiped his arm down the length of it. He retracted the indestructible blades and grimaced. They would always remind him that he was abnormal, a mutant, a freak of nature, and no one would accept him in the real world. Ever.
He strode angrily to the door and grabbed his bag. He flung open the door. He marched down the hallway and stomped noisily down the stairway. It was two o'clock in the morning, most of the residents were asleep, and he didn't mind stirring them a little but he wasn't about to awaken anyone purposely to offer his goodbyes. They would try to convince him to stay and he would only feel worse and the last thing he wanted was his self- righteous attitude to fade at that moment.
~
I'm movin' on
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
~
Logan took Scott's motorcycle as some sort of ritual and he could almost see Scott shaking his head but he had an aching feeling that Scott wouldn't be upset. It was almost expected now.
He didn't like that he had established habits at Xavier's mansion. He didn't appreciate the fact that he had become predictable. He had never been that way and the idea that the people he had lived with could tell what he was about to do frightened him in such a way that he sped away from the mansion faster than he had expected to. He looked down and sighed. There was barely any gas left in the tank. He guided himself to the nearest filling station.
~
And I know there's no guarantees
But I'm not alone
~
He was inside the nearly empty gas station, searching for some more cigars or cigarettes or even nicotine gum, anything with a kick to ease his nerves. There were two other vehicles besides his own outside and only two other people inside, including the salesclerk. Both men were watching him warily. Logan just rolled his eyes and grabbed some cigarettes and searched the refrigerated aisle for a bottle of beer.
Another vehicle pulled into the gas station and the bright headlights shone off the glass cases, blinding Logan's eyes, and he shielded them quickly. He turned with a sneer to see who had driven in. A tiny sports car stopped suddenly in a parking spot and Logan shook his head. Those fucking yuppies and their dumb ass cars.
~
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see is the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that
Those days are gone
~
Logan quickly threw cash on the counter for his pack of cigarettes and a six-pack and walked away from the twenty-something clerk who was saying timidly after him as he opened a longneck, "Sir, you can't drink that when you dr..."
Logan tossed him a dirty look and said angrily, "Look, kid, mind your own business."
The kid looked down and Logan exited the building. He sat on the curb and took a long swig of his first beer. The cool liquid refreshed him and he closed his eyes and bowed his head. Why was it so fucking hard for him to leave the fucking city? He was not even eight miles away from the mansion yet; at this rate, he would be nowhere no time soon.
The person from the sports car was approaching. A familiar smell inundated Logan's nostrils and his synapses were firing away throughout his body. Every nerve jumped to attention in his body and his ears perked up. Familiar steps. He raised his eyes and pursed his lips.
~
I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
~
Rogue stood before him quietly with an unrecognizable look on her face. Logan stared up at her, the bottle limp in his hand. She pulled her lips tight and just stared down at him. Tears escaped her eyes and Logan tried desperately to figure out if she was irate or miserable.
"What are you doing here?"
Her question was innocent but Logan knew she was just trying to stall and, at best, get him to come back home.
Home.
"You know."
She nodded shortly and pulled her arms tight over her chest, standing against the chill of the early morning, and asked, "Why?"
Logan looked down. He honestly didn't have an answer, a sufficient answer, and he just wanted her to stop asking questions. She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes. She could wait the night out for him to speak to her and to share him lame-ass reason for abandoning her, once again. The coward in him escaped and he avoided the inquiry.
"What are you doing here?"
Her eyes opened, but they were just slits burning into him. "Don't be a bastard."
"Why do you care what I do, huh?" he growled, raising the beer to his mouth. His life was not her business, his voice screamed on the inside. She shouldn't be there, at the gas station, at the mansion, at Laughlin City. She should still be in Mississippi.
Without him.
~
I've loved like I should
But lived like I shouldn't
~
"You're not really going to run again, are you?"
He could feel the sarcasm searing at the tip of his tongue. He could easily cut her to pieces with words stronger than adamantium. He could brush past her and leave her at the gas station with all her questions unanswered. Instead, he put the beer on the cement and looked up at her with bleak eyes.
"I have to."
~
I had to lose everything to find out
~
Her head swayed fervently and she looked at him, her brown eyes pleading with him. "Please don't do this again." He lowered his head, trying to avoid her. She sighed. "Do you not get it, Logan? We c... I care about you, Logan! Why can't you see that you belong at that school? With us, with me? Why is it always about you and your goddamned need to be alone? Everyone needs people-"
"Not me, kid," he growled.
"It's Marie, Logan, my fucking name is Marie!" she screamed. "You can't get personal for just a second?"
He stood and stalked past her, the urge to run growing. She was on his heels, he could almost feel her breath on the hairs of his neck.
"I need you, Logan, all right?" she cried. "I admit it. And you fucking promised you would take care of me. How is this taking care of me? You leave whenever you can!"
He turned and grabbed her arm, pulling her close. She stared up at him, stunned and, for the first time, scared of him. He snarled, "This is me taking care of you. If I stay, you'll get hurt in some way."
She took a deep breath and another tear rolled down her cheek. "This is hurting me right now, Logan."
~
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I'm movin' on
~
He released her quickly-even though he knew she hadn't been referring to their physical contact-and stumbled backwards. He shook his head and said, "Trust me, kid, I know what's good for you."
"If you honestly did, you'd stay."
It was her last stand in a dying fight. He knew her stance and he knew his own. He met her eyes and shrugged off his jacket. He came closer to her and threw it around her. It rested on her shoulders, covering her upper body, and he held the collar of it, his hands resting on her chest.
"I'm not leaving forever, you know that." She didn't reply, just pierced him with her eyes. He tried to lighten the situation. "I'm not going to die, either; you know that from past experiences." She glared. He cringed and pulled her closer. He pressed his lips against her hairline and said, "Be careful with that Bobby kid. I don't trust him."
"You don't trust anyone," she whispered as more tears built up.
"I trust you." He saw the sarcasm this time in her own eyes, but she held back. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "Just trust me." She nodded, not having faith in her voice, and returned the embrace. He felt her arms grip his middle and he said with a smile, "Keep the jacket safe. No holes, all right? I like it."
She pulled her head up and nodded, smiling gently. He pushed her hair behind her ears and rubbed her shoulders. He took a deep breath and cupped her face and brought his head down to her. He kissed her softly, enough to let her know that he would be back, enough to keep them safe, enough to get them through the separation. He whispered against her lips, "See ya soon, Marie."
He backed up to the bike, keeping his eyes on her, and started the motorcycle. He drove away and left her standing there. She followed him until the taillight disappeared. She turned and stared at the six-pack of beer, the half-empty one sitting a few feet from the rest.
~
I'm movin' on
Yep, that's it. Angst, anyone? :) I would like to hear your thoughts on it!