An Old Friend...With a high-pitched scream, the eagle circled Logan several times, soaring majestically through clouds that were weighted with snow, before diving back towards the earth to weave swiftly in and out of the treetops.
Chewing down upon his cigar, Logan raised an eyebrow as he stopped to observe the bird, allowing it to indulge him with a closing skyward swoop and dramatic plunge before finally retreating north towards the mountains that claimed the horizon.
A bemused smile tugged at his lips as he watched it shrink smaller and smaller until it was nothing but a black dot against the dull white of the sky..
Always the show off, he thought affectionately as he started walking again, secretly pleased that his return hadn't gone unnoticed. But his smile twitched irritably when he realising that his cigar had gone out yet again. Giving up on a smoke altogether he returned the stub into his jacket pocket with an agitated roll of his eyes.
He breathed deeply, inhaling air that was so pure, so biting, that it literally numbed the back of his throat. It possessed a rawness that echoed of time and all things organic. Man and nature. Life and death.
Purity?
There was only one other thing that came to mind when he reflected upon purity but he realised that he needed to take some time out from that avenue of thought - it only fuelled the frustration.
And right now he needed calm.
Needed to remain centred.
The forest was so still, so quiet, that the silence cut like glass. It was a bittersweet agony to his heightened senses, bitter because it felt like a thousand razor sharp shards were attacking his ears at once, and sweet because it was the purest sound that man could ever hope to experience.
He shook his head miserably, running a hand through his hair to dislodge the new layer of snowflakes that had settled upon the unruly spikes. That word again - pure. It haunted him in so many subtle yet persistent ways recently that everything seemed to be pure in some shape or form whether it was the bottled water he had purchased that morning or the snowy wilds he now roamed through. Was he even being subconsciously reminded of her now, he wondered restlessly?
He pulled up the collar of his jacket as the cold closed in around him. And could he ever take her down from that out of reach pedestal he had placed her upon? If he couldn't he feared he would never be able to touch her, to love her, in the way that he longed to.
As he waded through the drifts, he felt like that lost soul again, a lost soul that somehow belonged in this wilderness of wood and earth and water but was now desperately searching for the path out.
He felt like a traitor. When he had set out that morning he had not realised that he was coming to say goodbye. To this wilderness that had embraced him, claimed him, long ago, when he had fled from a nightmare of syringes and masked men.
He heard the Wolverine howl its despair within him at the revelation and he knew it didn't want to leave this place again. It had never wanted to leave, had put up such a fight to ignore humanity's call all those years ago after he had first escaped the lab. Logan closed his eyes as he fought the battle within himself. Between man and beast.
He felt he was letting the Wolverine down too, severing it from its roots - the place where it truly felt alive. But it didn't understand love, what it could do to a man, what joy it could give to a time-wearied heart. And he couldn't let go of the Wolverine as well as this place -he didn't know how. Suppressing it wasn't the same as erasing its existence. And even if he was suddenly granted the power to make his alter ego disappear for good, he didn't think he could now. Although he despised it at times it had grown into a reassuring sixth sense, always alert when the man was not quite so focused. Always strong when fear made people walk away. And quite simply it had become a comfort during those long nights when sleep wouldn't come or dreams woke him in a cold sweat. The Wolverine raged, but only to defend. It lashed out, but only to protect.
In truth, it had become the guardian that had assured Logan's safe passage from the very depths of hell, for without it he would never have escaped the lab, never fought back his freedom. Yet it was only since the events at Alkali Lake, only since he had lain the past to rest, that Logan had finally accepted that the Wolverine was not an enemy to be fought but an ally to be embraced.
And with these words the Wolverine finally seemed to retreat; finally accept. Perhaps even understand in it's own way. Despite its ferociousness the beast inside sometimes seemed little more than an angry child who just couldn't quite comprehend right from wrong.
The growl of disgruntlement he got in return for such a sentiment produced a fleeting smile of amusement from Logan.
He rubbed the back of his wrist across his brow to wipe away the moisture left by the cold's bracing caress, and burying his hands deep into his pocket he continued to crunch through the snow, his breath becoming a thick white mist that quickly fused with the frozen air. He sniffed as the scent of pine intensified and realised, with a stirring of mixed emotion, that he wasn't far from his destination now.
When he thought about it, he noted that he wasn't far from the lab either. He stopped in his tracks to sweep his gaze around him at the harsh yet beautiful landscape that seemed to stretch on forever like a little earth-bound pocket of eternity. After a moment's contemplation he guessed that Alkali Lake would be around fifty miles to the east.
He felt no emotion now at being so close to that place, and it wasn't because it was beneath water now, destroyed forever. That chapter of his life was simply closed. Period. He did, however, feel a wash of pain surge up through him at the memory of Jean, sacrificing herself to save them that fateful day.
"Jeannie," he whispered sadly in the direction of the Lake. "Miss you." And he did genuinely miss the friend she had become, the doctor who had cared. He realised now that she had probably known all along that he and Marie had been destined to be together.
~I think that she's a little taken by you~, she had teased, all those years ago, after their confrontation with Magneto at the Statue of Liberty, and although he had known it too, it had unsettled him, and he had turned his own confused affection back onto Jean.
Even that kiss outside the jet had just been an escape, a denial of the thoughts he had really been having about Marie.
He felt bad for using Jean in such a way but a part of him felt that she had also known that all along - and had understood. In reality, there wasn't a lot you could actually hide from a telepath.
"Sorry, Red," he offered finally, hoping that his words would carry across the miles to her final resting place.
Composing himself he started walking again, entering a more dense area of forest where the earth rose steadily up into mountain and the snow began to thin out and concentrate itself into small pooled areas. He climbed for almost twenty minutes and by the time he reached his destination the ascent had warmed him considerably, his forehead and the back of his neck now sprinkled with tiny beads of perspiration.
He sniffed the air again and grinned. He could detect the heady smell of wood smoke, and, if he was not mistaken, the distinctive aroma of venison.
The cave entrance was small but clear of foliage and in front of it sat his friend in a cross-legged posture before a small fire. A modest portion of meat had been skewered onto a tree branch and the old man was in the process of cooking it. Logan hadn't seen him in three years but he looked no different. His grey wiry hair bound tightly into two braids that fell to his stomach, his weather-beaten skin dark and leathery, and his slight form literally mummified in layers of skins and fur.
"You set that up quick," Logan pointed out dryly. "You were an eagle a moment ago." He slipped off his rucksack and tossed it to one side before squatting down in front of the fire to warm his hands. "By the way - impressive show earlier."
"I was pleased to see an old friend, that's all."
"You were showing off, Twostep," Logan insisted with a smile. "As usual."
"Perhaps." Twostep regarded Logan curiously from dark, almost black, eyes. "Why have you come here today, Logan? I sense that this is not only a friendly visit."
"You cut straight to the chase, don't you?"
"I don't like to dilly dally."
Logan watched him steadily, filled with an affection that almost bordered on love for the old man before him. He was the nearest thing he had ever had to a father. The only thing he had ever known as a father, since he still had no recollection of the time before the lab. All he knew was that when Twostep had discovered him, naked and bloody and howling his primal scream, he had taken him into his care, coaxed him away from insanity, despite -
Logan could hardly bare focus upon the three prominent scars that disfigured one side of Twostep's face.
Despite almost killing him in the process.
"I've come to say goodbye," he said finally.
"No you haven't," the old man corrected quickly. "You have come to find out if you are doing the right thing by saying goodbye."
"And what do you think?"
Twostep's gaze intensified as it wandered searchingly over Logan. "The shadows have lifted from your face - I can see that you have finally let go of your past. That is good."
"And?"
"And I see a different sort of fire in your eyes." Twostep grinned, his teeth surprisingly white and even for a man of so many years. "Can it be that the Wolverine has been tamed by a woman at last?"
"Maybe."
"Still just as guarded with your words, I see."
"Talking is for philosophers," Logan returned with a grin. "Like you."
"I'm no philosopher. Just an old man who likes the sound of his own voice."
Logan was puzzled. He loved these wilds just as much as Twostep and yet his words didn't make sense. "Then why do you live out here like a hermit? There's no one to even talk to."
"Ah, you would be surprised, Logan. I talk to many things." He gestured warmly to the untamed landscape that surrounded them. "The wind, the earth, the trees and the animals."
"If you say so," Logan mocked light-heartedly.
The old man frowned but his own jesting lingered behind his severe expression. "So, let us return to the beginning - why have you come to say goodbye?"
Logan took a deep breath, watching Twostep fretfully. "Because I have to make a choice - Marie or here."
"Why?"
"If I set up a life with Marie, I have to settle. That's how it's done."
"Is that what this Marie wants?"
Feeling rather sheepish, Logan rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "She doesn't even know I want her," he revealed quietly.
Twostep remained silent as if prompting his friend to continue.
"The last time we were together," Logan finally added miserably. "She looked so young. So innocent. I dunno - pure?"
Understanding flared into the old man's eyes. "And the Wolverine is frightened of tainting such purity," he clarified.
Logan peered down at the earth unable to summon a response.
"And Marie? Does she return your feelings?"
~Take me with you!~ Marie's words echoed through Logan's mind. "Yeah."
Twostep shook his head in exasperation. "You people make things so complicated for yourselves. How do you know that Marie even wants to settle?" Twostep reached across the rather charred tree branch, offering Logan a piece of cooked meat.
Logan accepted the tasty looking morsel. "I dunno," he returned with a shrug as he popped the meat in his mouth. "I suppose it's hard to express your feelings sometimes." He found it difficult to swallow his food passed the lump that had lodged in his throat.
He glanced up to meet Twostep's beady eyes. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For what you did for me all those years ago."
"All I did was offer you clothes and nourishment."
"I could've killed you." Logan took a deep breath as he regarded the scars again. "I almost did kill you."
"Your actions were hardly surprising under the circumstances." Twostep shook his head dismissively. "Rid yourself of this guilt once and for all, Logan. They are only scars."
Logan nodded soberly.
Twostep glanced down at the fire, reaching for a small reed pipe that rested upon a heated rock. Picking it up he offered it to Logan.
"Here. Let the pipe guide your dreams. Let it give you the answers you seek."
Logan took the pipe and observed it warily. "The last time I took you up on that offer I almost threw myself off this mountain thinking I could fly.."
Twostep chuckled at the memory. "And what a sight to behold that was." But quickly calming again he gestured once more to the pipe. "Aren't you at all curious to know what your heart will reveal now that your demons have gone?"
Logan looked up from the pipe at Twostep. "Maybe." He frowned again, realising that curiosity had nothing to do with it - he was afraid of what might be revealed.
He stared into the fire, momentarily hypnotised by the rise and fall of the flames. They seemed to move so seductively, so mesmerisingly, that he could almost visualise Marie dancing within them, dancing just for him. Only him.
Taking one final look at Twostep he slipped the end of the pipe into his mouth and drew in the sweet vapours, sucking hard as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the truth.
