Title: Wasteland
Author: Autumn
E-mail: dyslexic_crisco_penguin_fiend@hotmail.com
Summary: Sequel to 'Exit'
Disclaimer: I just borrow the characters to play with; don't actually own them, damnit. The song '40 miles from the sun' belongs to Bush. (No, not the president)
Author's Notes: I swore to myself I was not going to write a sequel. But then I heard this song for the first time in months, and it just struck a chord so to speak.
Damn dark (which I'm sure you know if you read 'Exit')
For Jonas, blame him for planting the idea in my head.
Set six months after 'Exit'
There is nowhere left to hide
There is nothing to be done
No people to be saved
No pets we've never named
40 miles from the sun
The green land rover pulled off the dirt road and parked about 200 yards away from the giant crater in the ground. The engine died and the dull click of a door being opened was the only sound in the manmade wasteland that even squirrels had abandoned. The driver of the vehicle strode forth purposely in a word weary stride. Her black boots occasionally kicking dirt and rocks out of the way as she came to the edge of the gaping hole.
Surveying the grim sceen before her, she sighed and dropped the bag from her shoulder. She drew out the metal spike and sledgehammer, and with one powerful blow drove it deeply into the ground. The rope was quickly laced through the hole at the top of the spike and the knot tied off in a sturdy clover hitch. She tossed the bag back onto her shoulder, securing it well. Slipping the other end through the large metal loop on her harness, she stood backwards and began her descent into the pit. The clanging of the metal spikes finding purchase for her feet helped her keep concentration as she made her way down.
As darkness craves the mind
We come undone without our pride
No time on Earth to come
All the pleasures just begun
40 miles from the sun
Finding solid ground again, she unfastened the harness and took a slow look around what had once been a military facility. The absolute destruction astounded her and reminded her of why she was here in the first place. Her blood boiled and she fought to keep from just screaming out loud. Sound in this dead cavity somehow seemed unnatural. Ashes were strewn about the place, untouched by the elements. A testament of just how much evil still pervaded the area even after the actual buildings were reduced to painful memories.
She had no idea of where Logan had been when he'd blown the whole damn thing. And he had, she had no doubt about it. The papers hadn't mentioned names, but she'd automatically know it was him, even before the letter arrived. However, if ademantium really was indestructible, she figured she'd find at least part of him. Calling upon the vague presence of Logan that remained in her head, she trained her thoughts on uncovering his most likely strategic method of bombing. Sensing a strong inclination towards the center, Marie looked around her and walked to what looked approximately like the center of the crater.
Piles of dirt interspersed with ashes were everywhere. She shook her head and set committed herself to the arduous task before her. Dislodging the pack once again, she removed the shovel and tossed the now empty bag off to the side. Sliding the holds on the compacted piece of metal into place, Rogue began to dig into the mountain of dirt.
In our coats beneath the layers
Wash my skin of all this hate
We should sleep late
Everything just kind of grates
40 miles from the sun
About two-thirds down the third pile, she felt the tip of her shovel hit something hard. Encouraged, she continued to delicately unbury the hard mass. Soon enough, only a light layer of dirt lay over whatever she had hit. Knowing he was dead was supposed to make this easier. Still she felt her throat catch when she realized what she was pulling out of the mound was undoubtedly the skeleton of the Wolverine.
It was caked in dirt, and nothing but the smallest remnants of bones remained stuck to the metal. The metal skeleton was remarkably intact, looking like something out of the X-Files. She sank to her knees, exhausted by the physical and emotional exertion. She was torn with anger and a deep sadness over what Logan had done. In the back of her mind she could understand why, or at least partly come to grips with his reasoning. The less cognitive part of her however only understood the person she had most cared about in the world had been taken from her, and he had been the one responsible for that. She loved him and hated him, it was a volatile mixture. One that couldn't be rectified, it was far too late for that.
I need to lose to make it right
I'll confront the stars tonight
I will babble I will bite
You'll never know how much you shine
40 miles from the sun
Picking herself up, she surveyed the land for the most appropriate spot. Not that it mattered; everything was virtually dead and barren anyway. Recalling from somewhere she couldn't quite grasp, she settled on simply facing the west and digging remembering it was the most sacred direction. She dug the grave about six feet long and four feet deep. A shallow grave, but all she was truly capable of at the moment. Stopping to mop the sweat from her face, she surprised herself by learning tears were running down her cheeks. Paying little attention to that, she hoisted herself out of the empty grave and moved back towards Logan's skeleton.
Retrieving the bag, she dragged it over to the mound of dirt. She adjusted it and pushed the metal bones onto the canvas. Gripping the handle, she began to drag the 200 lb. skeleton towards its final resting place. Grunting and straining, she managed to situate what was left of Logan in the grave, with his head facing west. She folded his arms over his chest and sat back on her haunches to take a final look at the faceless metal.
The memories of the brief time they had spent together would haunt her for her life. The letter he'd sent her explaining his actions was burned into her memory. Pain, sorrow, anger, empathy. Mixed together with a bond neither of them had ever really understood. On some level she knew they'd loved each other, but sometimes that's not enough.
Rising again, she took up the shovel and quietly buried Logan. Patting the earth down, she moved to the head or the grave and dug a small hole. Reaching her dirty fingers into her collar, she pulled out the metal she'd worn around her neck for too long. Fingering the tags one last time, she dropped them into the hole, leaving a single rivulet of the chain sticking partially out of the ground. The only marker of what now lay under the dusty ground for eternity.
40 miles from the sun
40 miles from the sun……….
Rising from the ground, she remained silent. No prayers, no benedictions, no goodbye. There was nothing left to say.