Title: No More Words
Author: lachlanrose
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were. Never will be, so sue me and you'll regret it, bub. Marvel owns the fun people. John Hiatt owns the song. I own nothing.
Feedback: Please? With a Logan snow angel on top?
Summary: A snowbound Logan finds Marie online. Words are exchanged. Things get complicated.
Notes: This one clocks in at nineteen chapters, so grab your popcorn and sit back. The ride is gonna be long and wild. A very heartfelt thanks to Taryn for the wonderful beta. This would have been awful without you, girl. And a special thanks to Leah. Your kind words of encouragement were greatly appreciated. This fic was a response to Karen's 'You've Got Mail' bunny. Written after I saw X1.
Snowbound
Seventeen steps. Seventeen goddamn steps from one side of this cabin to the other. The same number no matter how many times he walked it. That in itself wasn't surprising. He knew every inch of this cabin inside and out - and not just because he'd been stuck in it for the past month.
It was his. He'd built this cabin way up here in the middle of the northern Canadian wilderness with his own two hands. It was rustic to say the least. Over the years he'd made improvements on it whenever he passed through. Compared to how it had been in the beginning, it wasn't half bad. At least it had running water and electricity now. As far as Logan was concerned, that put it right up there with the Ritz.
He continued pacing. He wasn't too sure what made this winter different. He'd spent a lot of winters holed up in this place, waiting for spring to touch the earth once again. It had been at least a month now since he'd been snowed in. Well, to be fair, snowed in wasn't exactly accurate. The truck and bike were definitely stuck here, but if he really wanted to he could have left. It would have been a long cold trek through blizzard conditions but with the help of his healing factor he could have made it to the nearest town. Maybe.
The only problem with being stuck in here for the winter was that it gave a man too much time to think. Most of the other winters he'd spent thinking about his past, sifting through what little information he'd uncovered, trying to find some answers. This was the first winter he'd given any thought to the future.
Logan's thoughts shifted to Westchester and to Charles. It had been more than a year since he'd lit out of there on One Eye's bike.
Damn. I wish I coulda seen the look on his face.
He chuckled quietly to himself. It had been a long year since he'd left the school in search of his past. In truth, it had been closer to two. Every so often he'd let Charles know if any of the leads had yielded anything worthwhile. So far it hadn't amounted to much, but he still checked back with Charles every now and again to see if he had turned up anything new that might be of use.
At least now they had a system. He wasn't especially happy with it, but it beat having Charles's voice thunder in his head at some unexpectedly inopportune moment. The first time it had happened he'd very nearly wrapped his truck around a tree. The scathing mental response he'd sent back must have been more than sufficient because the voice went away and a few days later a package from Charles had arrived at his motel.
That had been more than a year ago, but the memory was still fresh in his mind. Being pissed off about something had a tendency to do that - at least for Logan anyway. He paced across the cabin, lost in thought as the memories of that day flitted across his mind.
He'd grabbed the package from the delivery guy and slammed the motel door with a snarl.
Goddamn mind readin' telepaths.
For Christ's sake, if he'd wanted them to know where he was he would have told them.
Just great. The last thing I need is for Chuck to go dickin' around in my head stirrin' shit up.
Scowling, he turned his attention to the package, simply wrapped in heavy brown paper.
Inside it he found a state of the art laptop, complete with email and internet access from any location at the touch of a button. He didn't even want to know how much that had cost, let alone how it worked. Also included was an extremely expensive looking leather carrying case and a small note.
I trust this will suffice.
- Charles
While computers weren't exactly his thing, he wasn't a complete moron. Logan turned it on and fiddled with it a little.
God, life's a bitch. How the hell can I forget shit like my own damn birthday but remember the 'home row'? That's seriously fucked up.
After discovering he was at least quasi proficient with the damn thing, he checked the files Charles had left for him. Along with a new list of leads and some commentary on what he'd discovered so far, he saw that Charles had taken the liberty of putting a few names and addresses into his address book and he had entered some contacts into his messenger as well.
I wonder who Chuck thinks I might wanna talk to.
He read through the messenger list. 'Wheels' was the first entry. Logan smirked at Charles's sense of humor. Nice one, Chuck. 'Cyke' was the next one. He snorted. Figures, that guy has NO imagination. 'DocSummers' came after that. Got the message loud and clear, Red. You don't have to draw me a fuckin' map. It was just a little harmless flirtin'. Get over it already, Christ. Besides, you were the one feelin' me up, remember? Logan made an utterly masculine noise of irritated exasperation. Hmph. Women. Below that one was 'WthrGdss'. Yeah, definitely her style, understated... right up until she nukes your ass with a bolt of lightnin'. Last on the list was 'TwoPairs'. Logan cracked a smile. TwoPairs, huh?
Marie.
The name whispered across his mind and he couldn't help but smile.
He shook his head. That girl was a definite danger to his sanity. Logan rubbed his hand roughly over his grizzled jaw. He knew the 'pairs' had to be a reference to gloves. So, if there were two pairs that meant one for her and one for someone else, and the only reason someone else would be wearing gloves would be so they could touch her.
Logan growled at the direction his thoughts had taken. Anger spiked hotly inside him at the idea of someone else touching her.
Shit.
He stood up abruptly, too agitated to sit still. He stalked back and forth across the motel room, furious at himself for feeling so possessive about Marie and furious at the thought of someone - someone not him - touching her.
Frustration, confusion and rage bubbled inside him, quickly reaching the boiling point. Trashing the room would only draw undue attention to himself, so instead he channeled every bit of what he was feeling into getting the hell out of Dodge. He threw what little he owned into his pack and loaded up the truck before returning to the room. Only one thing left to do now. He stared stonily at the compact piece of black hardware.
Screw it. It's either this or have Chuck in my head again. Some choice. Logan sat down and began to type.
+++++
(Email)
Charles,
Got your package. It'll work. I got some things to say about it though. Read my mind again and we're done. I just walk away. I've had enough people fucking with my head. It's my choice what I share and what I don't. Next time - ask. If I want to tell you, I will. That said, I'm heading out to check up on the new leads. I'll check back in a few weeks and let you know if I found anything. Take care of the kid.
L
+++++
A loud pop from the fire brought Logan's attention back to the present. He stopped pacing and dropped heavily into a chair by the hearth. Things had been going on that way between them for more than a year now. Logan wrote Charles when he could, usually once or twice a month. Charles always replied promptly, usually within minutes. His commentary and advice had proved helpful on more than one occasion and so had the personal tidbits he usually included concerning Marie. Those were always the last thing he mentioned and the part Logan always read first.
Oh, it was never much; just a sentence or two, but Logan filed each and every one of those Marie-bits away. He kept them locked away inside himself, like some kind of treasure. He took them out, replaying them over and over in his mind when things got bad... when he needed something to get him through the night - something more than cage fights, cheap whiskey and cheaper women. Those things - they eased his body. Marie, she eased his heart, soothed his tired ragged soul when the nightmares clawed at him.
Those precious lines he so greedily hoarded, so carefully guarded, did more to ease him than he cared to admit. There were twelve Marie-messages in all, and he knew each and every one of them by heart.
September 2nd - Rogue is well. Despite the six months she spent away from school, her test scores are more than ample to allow her to graduate on time. Quite frankly, with her scores, she was eligible for a GED, but she chose instead to finish out her remaining year of school. I think, perhaps, she wanted some time to simply enjoy being carefree again. She speaks of you often and smiles. - Charles
October 23rd - Rogue seems to be enjoying life here at the school. She is often seen in the company of her roommates, whom she fondly calls 'Kit-Kat' and 'Jubes'. Although she frequently indulges herself in their more juvenile behavior, at times she seems wise beyond her years. She is a most charming young woman. - Charles
November 5th - Rogue celebrated her eighteenth birthday yesterday. I think she was expecting to see you. I saw her in the garden, watching the gates and holding your dog tags in her hand. Perhaps it is better you did not come. Some lessons are easier learned sooner than later. - Charles
November 29th - Rogue is doing well in school. While she does not care for my physics class, she has a true gift for art. I believe it is her favorite subject. Perhaps one day she will show you some of her work. I think you might be surprised. - Charles
December 17th - Rogue has decided to spend her holidays at school this year instead of going home with one of her friends. I don't believe she expects to see you, but there is a gift for you under the tree. I am certain it is from her. I can send it to you if you prefer, or keep it here until your return. Merry Christmas. - Charles
February 3rd - Rogue is having a wonderful winter. I often see her playing outside in the snow with the younger children. I think she prefers this season because, for once, she isn't the only one wearing a scarf and gloves. I've noticed she likes to take long walks alone when it's snowing. Perhaps, like you, she is drawn to the still quiet of the woods. - Charles
March 31st - Rogue declined to go on spring break with the other students. Instead, she borrowed one of the cars and took a road trip by herself. By the looks of it, she had a wonderful time. I think she just needed to get away for a while. I was reluctant to let her go, but she is eighteen and this is a school, not a prison. Rest assured, she returned to us safe and sound. - Charles
April 14th - Rogue has moved into your old room. There was a near miss involving her 'gift' and one of her roommates. Despite all of our pleading, she was adamant about moving out. She wanted me to relay to you the next time we spoke, that she was in no way trying to usurp your place by taking your room. She is planning on moving out upon your return. She said only she needed a place she felt safe. - Charles
June 27th - I'm pleased to say Rogue recently graduated with honors. I have attached a picture of her in her cap and gown. She has chosen not to attend college at this time, and instead has accepted a position teaching art to the younger students, despite my offer to let her stay on indefinitely. I do not believe she likes feeling indebted any more than you do. - Charles
August 6th - Rogue is well and in fine spirits despite the fact that most of her friends have gone away to univeristy. She seems content, for now, to stay here at the school. She mentioned in passing that if we spoke again she'd like for me to pass along her thanks for the use of your room. She says it brought her peace. - Charles
October 20th - Rogue is a favorite teacher among the younger students. The tale of her rescue at your hands has become something of a legend with her students. She still smiles when she hears your name and is quick to defend you to Scott, who seems a little put out by their belated hero worship. I realize such adoration makes you uncomfortable, but know that Rogue tells the story honestly. She does not make you out to be larger than life. To her, you are simply the man who saved her life. - Charles
November 4th - Rogue is nineteen today. So much the same and yet so different from the girl she was a year ago. I caught her again in the garden, holding your tags and watching the gate. When I approached her, she just smiled apologetically and told me in a quiet voice that she knew you were not coming, but that sitting there thinking of you "that way" was her gift to herself. I know that Jean once told you she felt Rogue was 'a little taken with you.' I do not pretend to know her heart, but I would suggest that whatever she feels for you, be it friendship or more, should not be confused with the first crush of a young girl for the hero who saved her. I think today she proved she is no longer a girl, but a strong young woman who knows her own mind. You would be proud of her. I am. - Charles
Logan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. That last one, the twelfth one, was just a month old. It was both a pleasure and a torture to hear these snippets of Marie's life. Sometimes the things Charles wrote about her made him smile and sometimes they made his chest so tight, so painful, he could hardly breathe. He always read the end of Charles's emails first, hoping for some word of her. It didn't matter that sometimes the words were painful. At least they brought him news of her - and for a while that had been enough.
Logan pushed himself up from the chair and went and got the laptop from its case, where it had been sitting untouched since the last one - number twelve. That one had been one of the hard-to-breathe ones. For weeks he hadn't wanted to read another word, afraid of what other Marie-things Charles might tell him. Still, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay away forever. Those words were his only link to Marie. Unaware he was soundlessly reciting the words from the number twelve, he went and poured himself some whiskey before sitting down in front of the glowing screen. He clicked the icon and sat back, taking a large swallow of the amber liquid while he waited.
+++++
(Email)
Logan,
I trust this email finds you well. I am sorry that last lead provided little in the way of useful information. I understand from your last correspondence that you will be finding a place to over-winter soon. As always, I want you to know you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you like. Our door is always open to you, whether you wish to join our cause or not. The choice is entirely up to you. I am working on some new leads, but the going is slow and people are reluctant to talk. I feel confident that by spring, I should have something more for you.
Rogue has been a bit more reserved than usual since her birthday. I do not think she is pining away as some believe, but I am heartened to see she has been cheered by the arrival of her friends, who are back for the winter holidays. Just this afternoon they were involved in a snowball fight on the quad. It was wonderful to hear Rogue's laughter after a month of soft words and quiet smiles. Despite having Bobby 'The Iceman' on their side, the boys found themselves soundly trounced by the girls. I think, perhaps, Rogue was the reason for their decisive victory. She plays to win, just as you do.
- Charles
+++++
Heh. Way to kick a little ass, darlin'.
Logan let out a breath he wasn't even aware he'd been holding. Thankfully, this had been one of smiling ones, not one of the gut-wrenching, make-him-trash-his-motel-room kinda ones. He took another sip of the whiskey, enjoying the smooth slow burn while he checked the date. This one was already a week old.
He wondered what she was doing right now, this minute. See, that was the danger of these things. They always left him with more questions than answers. Sometimes he wondered if Charles did that on purpose. This time he wondered why she'd been so quiet since her birthday and if it had to do with him or if it was something else. Or someone else.
TwoPairs.
His mind would pick now to remember that little bit of information. What if it was someone else? Not that he wanted her to be pining away for him - much. He wanted her to be happy. If that meant putting up with some little twerp in her life, then so be it - but he didn't have to be happy about it.
No way. Not happy about some little punk puttin' his hands all over Marie. Not happy about the THOUGHT of some little punk touchin' her. Shit.
Maybe he should talk to her, just a little, you know - make sure she was ok and happy and all that shit. He'd been thinking about it for a while now. Maybe now was a good time. He'd seen her online a few times over the past year, not nearly as often as the others, though. He looked for her each and every time he sent Charles an email. Those few times she had been on he'd just sat there watching that little box with her name lit up until she went offline. It was never long, and he felt like a fucking pansy for doing it, but he couldn't help himself.
Logan finished his whiskey and got up. He padded barefoot across the rough wooden floor and threw a log on the fire. He lit up a cigar and came back to the laptop now that he'd decided what he was going to say to Charles.
+++++
(Email)
Charles,
Don't worry about the leads. I know there's not much to go on. Those bastards knew how to cover their tracks. As for this winter, I already found a place to stay. Thanks for the invite, but I've still got some things to do before I come back. You can tell the kid there's plenty of snow here but nobody's been stupid enough to throw a snowball at me. Glad to hear she's doing ok. Take care of her.
L
+++++
Logan went to the bathroom and got another drink while he waited for Charles's response. Like usual, he didn't have to wait long.
+++++
(Email)
Logan,
While I will never fully understand your frustration at the inability to find those responsible for the experiments you endured, I too have found the process tasking. I have made little progress, but I am hopeful by spring I will have something more tangible.
I am sorry to hear you will not be joining us for the winter, but I understand completely. The holiday season is in full swing here. As there was last year, there is another gift for you from Rogue. I will keep it with the one from last year until you return to claim them. I'm sure Rogue will be delighted to hear you have remained snowball free. One moment... I've just spoken with her telepathically - and before you get upset, no, I did not tell her I was writing you. She said, and I quote (if one can quote a thought, that is), "Tell him I miss him - in a good way - and he's lucky I'm not around or he could kiss that snowball free winter goodbye." Merry Christmas, Logan.
- Charles
+++++
Logan sat dumbfounded, feeling like he'd been sucker punched.
Marie. Marie just talked to me. I mean, not to me, to him, but she told him somethin' for me.
Any remaining reservation he had about contacting Marie flew right out the window. Logan grinned wickedly.
And she teased me too. Well, we'll just see about that.
Your turn is comin', darlin'. Your turn is comin'.