Chapter Seven: Clean
Author: The Mad Techie
Series: Maybe
World: Alternative Moviefic
Characters: Logan, Original Character, The X-Men, Magneto, Sabertooth, Toad, etc.
Pairing: Logan/Ororo, Scott/Jean
Synopsis: A cage-fighter calling himself the Wolverine meets someone who will change his life forever.
Feedback: Pleeeease? :)
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The child calling herself Mutie didn't want to wake up. She was safe and warm and happy and she did not want to wake up - until the dream turned to the Bad Place.
Her as a baby, huddled against a wall, blood and fear and shame - claws over her head, shadows spreading open, laughter that was not funny or nice, but ugly and mean.
Mutie woke choking on her screams.
Logan jerked from half-sleep when the tiny child in his arms began to thrash and cry. Tiny hands clutched his jacket in desperation, as if all the safety in the world was there.
"It's okay, darlin'. I'm here." he murmered, cuddling her against his chest.
"Wghn!" Mutie's eyes flew open, body trembling uncontrollably. "I'wm sowwy, I'm sowwy, I'wll be gwd..."
CRASH!
Wall-hangings shattered on the floor as the child's hysterical pleas gave way to sobs.
Logan heard the thumps of footfalls, and snarled involentarily at the door as he rocked the child.
"It's okay, darlin', you ain't done anything wrong." he stroked her hair out of the huge eyes.
The child collapsed into tears, smelling of sheer terror and desperation.
"Are you okay in there?" The kid, Summers, was calling.
Mutie was trembling, but Logan's gentle touches and soft voice were soothing the child, he could feel as well as smell her calming - until she heard Scott's voice.
Logan rested a hand on her back, rubbing gently and comfortingly.
"Yeah, we're fine." he returned, and heard the shifting feet, followed by him moving away.
Mutie was calming, and Logan gently opened her hands and held them in his, warming them.
"I'wm sowwy." the child wavered, sniffling and trying to regain control of himself.
"It's okay, darlin'. Bad dream?" he smoothed the tiny girl's hair out of her eyes.
Mutie's nod was shaky at best.
"I know about that." Using his fingertip, he tilted the child's chin up and stared into her eyes. "Ya need to cry, I'll be right here."
Mutie sniffled again, eyes wide, and clung to his hand.
Finally, the child looked down, then up, murmering tentatively, "Iwm...diwty."
Logan stood, taking small hand in his, and replied, "Let's getcha somethin' to eat, darlin'." He stroked her hair out of her eyes again. "Then we'll deal with that, okay?"
"Owkay, Wghn." the child replied, walking with him out the door.
Ororo was serving breakfast to the younger students when Logan came down the stairs, walking slowly enough for the small child to keep up.
"Miz Munroe! Can I have more pancakes?" a perhaps twelve-year-old boy asked.
"Can I have some sausage?" Another boy asked, a year or so older than the previous speaker.
"I want some toast!" The speaker was a brown-haired teen-age girl.
Mutie was hiding behind Logan's legs, frightened by the early morning chatter.
Once the children were happily devouring their meal, Ororo set a stack of plates in the sink and turned to regard Logan and Mutie with a warm and welcoming smile. "Good morning." she said.
"Mornin'." returned Logan, gruffly civil.
Ororo walked over and knelt down in front of Mutie, aware of the tiny intake of breath and the child's attempt to shy away.
Logan's gaze was sharp, reminding the woman of a hawk watching over it's young.
"Good morning, Mutie." said Ororo, smiling warmly at the frightened little girl. "Would you like some pancakes? Or some sausage?"
Mutie shook her head and looked away, nervously.
"Sweetheart, it's all right." Ororo said, gently. "You're safe, no-one will hurt you here."
Several of the kids were watching curiously, but looked away when Logan scowled at them, crouching down to hold the child gently.
"It's nice and hot, would you like a plate?" Ororo wasn't giving up. The child was still filthy, a fact which brought more of a sense of concern than revulsion to the young woman.
Mutie looked uncertainly up at Logan, then back at Ororo.
"Couple pancakes and sausage." said the tall, feral man, reassuringly touching the child's shoulder.
"And some juice?" coaxed Ororo, eyes never leaving Mutie's.
"Iwm d-diwty...." Mutie's voice was tiny, frightened, as she looked down at her feet.
"Well, let's get you some breakfast, then we'll get you cleaned up, all right?"
"Wghn?" Mutie looked up at him, seeking approval - and perhaps comfort.
"C'mon, darlin'." he said, nodding to Ororo as he coaxed the shy child to the table. Lifting her fragile body up into a chair, he wrapped two pancakes around sausage and set them down in front of her.
Mutie picked up one and bit into it, barely chewing as she shoved the entire combination into her mouth and swallowed, reaching for the next one.
Ororo reached out to touch the child's hand, and felt a strange tingle spark over her own hand.
Careful to not show any sign of the occurance, she smiled reassuringly as Logan simply wrapped a pancake around two sausages and bit into it, eyes wary and observant.
"Easy, darlin'." Logan said quietly, lightly touching Mutie's shoulder. "I don't want ya to choke, okay?"
Obediantly, Mutie slowed down, chewing more slowly as she stared at her plate.
Some of the kids were whispering, but the child did not look up.
She knew she was different.
The man in the chair like Ol' Jim's said different was not bad, but she had always been told, and told and told that different was bad.
So she tried to make herself very small and not cry.
"She ain't happy bein' dirty. Needs a bath, and clean sheets." Logan said, curtly. He watched the dark-skinned woman carefully, watching for any sign of disapproval of the child.
He didn't much give a damn what anyone thought of him.
"Of course." Ororo smiled at the man despite his almost surly attitude.
It was difficult to see him as harsh as he intended once she had heard him singing to the child now eating slowly at the table.
"If she needs any help, I'll be nearby." Ororo reassured the man, and he regarded her steadily. Clearly, he saw nothing wrong with helping the little girl, and truly, neither did she. But the Professor and Scott could be very difficult about such things, and she was determined not to frighten Mutie any more - or push Logan away.
The moment the second consideration entered her mind, she was a bit startled.
Not that she had no wish to alianate a fellow mutant.
But that she did not want Logan to be alianated.
"I downt w-wahnt awnyone to s-see me." Mutie was saying, cheek against Logan's chest. "Pweese?"
"Me and Ororo's gonna be right out here if ya need somethin'." said the man, running a fingertip gently down the bruised cheek. He found a huge, fluffy towel on the bed and a washcloth folded neatly on top. Carefully, he gathered up a small bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap, along with a child's toothbrush and a tube of fruit-flavored toothpaste, and placed it in the child's tiny hands. "You call if you need us, okay?"
The child nodded, a little nervously, and walked to the bathroom door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and walked inside.
Logan settled into the chair, and Ororo took another, sitting facing the man.
"I'm very sorry about your truck." she said, after a moment's silence.
His gaze was steady as he just shrugged, smelling the machine-flat clean of the sheets.
She sighed inwardly, then continued determinedly, "If we had gotten there quicker, perhaps we might have saved it."
"Maybe." Logan's tone was low and almost rumbling.
Encouraged, Ororo said softly, "I'm glad you are all right, Mr. Logan."
"It's just Logan."
"Logan...?"
"Logan." A pause, just for a beat. "Ain't no more to it."
I think there is much more to it. Ororo thought, sensing the tension in the man's long body.
"I hope you will stay here, at least for a while." Ororo tactfully changed the subject.
Logan snorted. "Look, I'm not intrested in fighting your damn war." he got to his feet, faced the window, muscles tense.
Somehow, that facinated her, and she felt a brief embarassment. He reminded her of some great jungle cat, surveying his realm.
"I cannot speak for everyone else, but I'd like to see you stay here until you can find some other mode of transportation." she realized she was trying to be delicate. The remains of the ancient truck she had glimpsed just didn't do him justice.
Goddess, what's wrong with me? she thought, suprised at herself. Why am I so anxious for him to stay?
Mutie stared around the big room, blinking in the bright lights and glancing nervously at the big mirror on the wall. She saw a grey plastic stool in the corner and carefully moved it away from the wall, placing the towel and washcloth on it.
Turning, she stood on tiptoe and placed the toothbrush and tube of toothpaste up on the counter, near the sparkling-clean metal sink.
She was a little suprised to find a pair of grey sweatpants and a short-sleeved shirt, along with clean white underwear, folded over the towel rack - they were a little big, but so soft, and so clean!
Taking a deep breath, the little girl looked worriedly back at the door. She knew it wasn't locked - then she relaxed a little. Logan was out there.
The old shirt tore as it went over her head, and she tried to fold it right. But she was not so good at folding, and when she tugged off her pants, the little girl wadded them together and hoped no one would be angry as she set them on the floor.
Naked, she pushed aside the plastic curtain and turned first one metal circle then the other, pulling her hand back in suprise when she felt the pleasent warmth.
Climbing over the white porcilen, she tucked the plastic inside the tub then pulled up the stop on the top of the spout and felt the flecks of water against her skin. Reaching through the side of the curtain, she grabbed the soap and washcloth, and began to scrub ruthlessly, feeling tears well up as she hit the places that always hurt.
But she scrubbed and scrubbed until the water was brown and all the dirt was off her skin. Then she got the bottle of shampoo and hesitated.
Difference was bad.
But...
Logan had said she could be clean, so she would.
Even if they laughed.
So she worked the thick flowery-smelling substance into her hair and winced when snarls fell loose as she cleaned. When she was done, she knelt down and scrubbed the tub for a long time, until her shoulders ached and her arms felt too weak to move.
Panting, Mutie climed out and carefully dried herself, suprised at the color of her skin, but quickly turned away from the mirror, reddening at what she saw.
She pulled on the underwear and pants, then the shirt, gathered up the dirty rags and threw them in the garbage can.
Then she used the brand-new toothbrush and paste to clean her teeth and mouth, keeping her gaze away from her reflection, and put them away as neatly as she could.
Mutie hung up the towel and washcloth, put the crumbly remains of the soap in the trash, and the shampoo back up on the counter, hands trembling.
Taking a deep breath, she went to the entrance, hesitated, and opened the door.
As the door opend and Mutie - clean and damp from the shower Logan's nose told him - tentatively stepped into the light, he moved over and reassuringly rested a hand on her shoulder, watching her bright gold-amber eyes tip up to him.
It was then the moonlight caught her hair, and both he and Ororo were suprised, the woman more than the man.
For the little girl's hair was fair, pale.
More than merely pale.
Mutie's hair was poorly, raggedly cut, not reaching past her neck -
And stark, silvery-white.