Title: Cinderella search
Rating: PG-13, maybe R
Archiving: WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Dolphin Haven. Anyone else, ask first please.
Disclaimer: Oh yes, they're mine. *knock knock* Go away, you pesky lawyer!
Feedback: You better or I might send Sabretooth after you...
Setting: Pre-movie/beginning of movie
Summary: Logan is travelling across Canada. Logan POV. Pre-movie
---------------------------
I'm getting flamin' sick and tired of this. Sick of it all. What's the point
in goin' from one side to Canada and then back again, for what feels
like all eternity? None I tell ya. Nothin' ever changes, the camper is
always the same and those nights I rent a room to be able to have a
nice shower, the room is the same as the last one. One dingy motel-room
is the same as the other. But I have to travel like that. I can't afford
to stay in one place where I sooner or later would get some uncomfortable
questions. And questions I don't have answer to myself either.
And that's the fuckin' sad story of the last damn 15 years. That's the only
thing I'm really sure of. Nothin' else. What significance, if any, do the dogtags
I'm wearing have? What's my name? I call myself Logan when I meet someone that gives
a damn, which isn't often, but I have no idea if it's my name at all. Or who the
sadistic freaks who invades my nightmares are. As if living the way I do day by day
isn't depressing as it is, some perverse fuckers from my unknown past did
something so awful to me that I can't even get some peace during sleep. I've lost
count on the number of times I've broken down and cried like a big baby out of
frustration over everything.
All I want is some peace of mind and something worth living for. Is that too
much to ask for? For me it seems so. Nothing ever seems to go my way, even
my own body is betraying me. It just won't let me find peace in death even.
I've been severely hurt so many times that a normal guy would have died a
long time ago. Not me. Because I'm not normal. I'm some sort of freak that
just heals from everything. What did I do to deserve this?`
Nothing I can think of. What do you say, God? What did I ever do to you?
He's not answering tonight either. Not that I was expecting it from him. Or
anything from anyone really. Keeps me from being more disappointed. I've
learnt that nothing is the best you can hope for.
So what I'm really doing is trying to find distractions where I can find
them - anything to keep my mind from my pathetic existance. Can't recall
a time when I've been truly happy with anything so I've settled for
the best I can hope for - ignoring the pain of being alone, unwanted,
having no memory of who or what I am.
Those distractions comes in threes. Fighting, which gives some money
for the essentials too, is number one. It's the best way of releasing
frustrations, anger and resentment I know of and it's a good workout
at the same time. The only drawback is that it's too easy. My opponents
are never good enough so the fight lasts for a measly one or two minutes
at the most.
Distraction two is alcohol. I don't get drunk easily so I have to go
through a whole shitload of beers and a whiskey-bottle or two before
the effect hits home but it's worth it. Makes it easier to just forget
about everything else, ya know?
Number three is women. But not as much anymore. Sure, I can get a new
bedmate every night if I want to but that's all there is to it. I don't
dare to be attached to anyone. The last one I thought cared for me
hurt me too deeply in the end so now it's just one-night stands every
now and then and not all that often either. It was almost every night
before but that just made me feel cheap and used - like a male hooker but
without the payment. Now, that happens only when I'm desperatly needing
some company even if it's just temporary. Everyone needs to feel normal
at times even if it's just an illusion.
I guess we all live in our own private shells in our own ways. My shell
is just more private than mosts. Anyway, I do my best to ignore my senses
and to fool myself that out there there's someone else that cares.
Someone to answer all my prayers. I have yet to find my own Cinderella.
Maybe she will always be beyond my reach but I still hold the hope
that one day, probably in the most unlikely place, I can end my
Cinderella search. That's the only thing that keeps me going now.
But the hope's fading fast.
Then one day something odd happened. I was in Laughlin City, a place where
the competition is even more laughable than anywhere else when I smelt
something unusual. I thought I knew most of the people that occassionally
went there for a drink or to watch the fights but this one was new.
Maybe not surprising if it wasn't how she smelt like. Not like the
other women usually frequenting that type of dive. No cheap perfumes
and not there just looking for sex or drugs either. No, she smelt
more like innocence and sadness. I got so distracted by it that the
guy I was fighting actually managed to land quite a blow. Not that
it mattered. I knocked him out an instance later and that was the
last one for the night.
I later saw the girl, sitting in the bar nursing a glass of water.
She can't have been older than 16. 17 at the most. I caught a glimpse
of her eyes and no one that young should have that look in their eyes.
A look I know all too well since I see it everytime I look into a mirror.
The look of desperation and despair. But she had her heart in the right
place, despite that, which she showed when she alerted me that someone
was trying to knife me. She didn't have to of course but it showed that
she cares for people. Before she knows they're freaks at least. She looked
rather shocked when I extended my claws pinning the guy to the wall.
The bartender decided that I wasn't welcome anymore so I left, but not
before I had made sure his rifle was useless.
I had driven for some miles when I heard a sound from the trailer.
And surprise, surprise. The girl had hidden herself there.
I don't know what I was thinking when I first left her standing on
the side of the road but I quickly came to my senses. I just can't let
her freeze to death out there. I may be a freak but I do have my morals
and honors.
I'm not much of a talker so it was a bit awkward at first but she was
determined to have a conversation. She did most of the talking to
be sure but she was pleasant enough. And it eventually turned out that
she's a freak too. Other things that makes her different from ordinary
people than me but still different. That's a relief because I thought I
was alone in that regard. In that regard as well, that is.
I don't know if she's my Cinderella or not but I damn sure will do
everything
in my power to find out and even if she isn't, I sure will make sure she
will get a better life than what I've had. No one deserves what I've had
to suffer through and most certainly not a young girl with her whole life
ahead of her.
I'll protect her to my last breath. But I pray that maybe, just maybe,
there might be some hope for a better life for both her and me. Maybe.
Rating: PG-13, maybe R
Archiving: WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Dolphin Haven. Anyone else, ask first please.
Disclaimer: Oh yes, they're mine. *knock knock* Go away, you pesky lawyer!
Feedback: You better or I might send Sabretooth after you...
Setting: Pre-movie/beginning of movie
Summary: Logan is travelling across Canada. Logan POV. Pre-movie
---------------------------
I'm getting flamin' sick and tired of this. Sick of it all. What's the point
in goin' from one side to Canada and then back again, for what feels
like all eternity? None I tell ya. Nothin' ever changes, the camper is
always the same and those nights I rent a room to be able to have a
nice shower, the room is the same as the last one. One dingy motel-room
is the same as the other. But I have to travel like that. I can't afford
to stay in one place where I sooner or later would get some uncomfortable
questions. And questions I don't have answer to myself either.
And that's the fuckin' sad story of the last damn 15 years. That's the only
thing I'm really sure of. Nothin' else. What significance, if any, do the dogtags
I'm wearing have? What's my name? I call myself Logan when I meet someone that gives
a damn, which isn't often, but I have no idea if it's my name at all. Or who the
sadistic freaks who invades my nightmares are. As if living the way I do day by day
isn't depressing as it is, some perverse fuckers from my unknown past did
something so awful to me that I can't even get some peace during sleep. I've lost
count on the number of times I've broken down and cried like a big baby out of
frustration over everything.
All I want is some peace of mind and something worth living for. Is that too
much to ask for? For me it seems so. Nothing ever seems to go my way, even
my own body is betraying me. It just won't let me find peace in death even.
I've been severely hurt so many times that a normal guy would have died a
long time ago. Not me. Because I'm not normal. I'm some sort of freak that
just heals from everything. What did I do to deserve this?`
Nothing I can think of. What do you say, God? What did I ever do to you?
He's not answering tonight either. Not that I was expecting it from him. Or
anything from anyone really. Keeps me from being more disappointed. I've
learnt that nothing is the best you can hope for.
So what I'm really doing is trying to find distractions where I can find
them - anything to keep my mind from my pathetic existance. Can't recall
a time when I've been truly happy with anything so I've settled for
the best I can hope for - ignoring the pain of being alone, unwanted,
having no memory of who or what I am.
Those distractions comes in threes. Fighting, which gives some money
for the essentials too, is number one. It's the best way of releasing
frustrations, anger and resentment I know of and it's a good workout
at the same time. The only drawback is that it's too easy. My opponents
are never good enough so the fight lasts for a measly one or two minutes
at the most.
Distraction two is alcohol. I don't get drunk easily so I have to go
through a whole shitload of beers and a whiskey-bottle or two before
the effect hits home but it's worth it. Makes it easier to just forget
about everything else, ya know?
Number three is women. But not as much anymore. Sure, I can get a new
bedmate every night if I want to but that's all there is to it. I don't
dare to be attached to anyone. The last one I thought cared for me
hurt me too deeply in the end so now it's just one-night stands every
now and then and not all that often either. It was almost every night
before but that just made me feel cheap and used - like a male hooker but
without the payment. Now, that happens only when I'm desperatly needing
some company even if it's just temporary. Everyone needs to feel normal
at times even if it's just an illusion.
I guess we all live in our own private shells in our own ways. My shell
is just more private than mosts. Anyway, I do my best to ignore my senses
and to fool myself that out there there's someone else that cares.
Someone to answer all my prayers. I have yet to find my own Cinderella.
Maybe she will always be beyond my reach but I still hold the hope
that one day, probably in the most unlikely place, I can end my
Cinderella search. That's the only thing that keeps me going now.
But the hope's fading fast.
Then one day something odd happened. I was in Laughlin City, a place where
the competition is even more laughable than anywhere else when I smelt
something unusual. I thought I knew most of the people that occassionally
went there for a drink or to watch the fights but this one was new.
Maybe not surprising if it wasn't how she smelt like. Not like the
other women usually frequenting that type of dive. No cheap perfumes
and not there just looking for sex or drugs either. No, she smelt
more like innocence and sadness. I got so distracted by it that the
guy I was fighting actually managed to land quite a blow. Not that
it mattered. I knocked him out an instance later and that was the
last one for the night.
I later saw the girl, sitting in the bar nursing a glass of water.
She can't have been older than 16. 17 at the most. I caught a glimpse
of her eyes and no one that young should have that look in their eyes.
A look I know all too well since I see it everytime I look into a mirror.
The look of desperation and despair. But she had her heart in the right
place, despite that, which she showed when she alerted me that someone
was trying to knife me. She didn't have to of course but it showed that
she cares for people. Before she knows they're freaks at least. She looked
rather shocked when I extended my claws pinning the guy to the wall.
The bartender decided that I wasn't welcome anymore so I left, but not
before I had made sure his rifle was useless.
I had driven for some miles when I heard a sound from the trailer.
And surprise, surprise. The girl had hidden herself there.
I don't know what I was thinking when I first left her standing on
the side of the road but I quickly came to my senses. I just can't let
her freeze to death out there. I may be a freak but I do have my morals
and honors.
I'm not much of a talker so it was a bit awkward at first but she was
determined to have a conversation. She did most of the talking to
be sure but she was pleasant enough. And it eventually turned out that
she's a freak too. Other things that makes her different from ordinary
people than me but still different. That's a relief because I thought I
was alone in that regard. In that regard as well, that is.
I don't know if she's my Cinderella or not but I damn sure will do
everything
in my power to find out and even if she isn't, I sure will make sure she
will get a better life than what I've had. No one deserves what I've had
to suffer through and most certainly not a young girl with her whole life
ahead of her.
I'll protect her to my last breath. But I pray that maybe, just maybe,
there might be some hope for a better life for both her and me. Maybe.