Hey, all! I've had this chapter almost done for a few days, but thanks to visiting family and a bunch of other such things I'm only just getting to posting it right now. It's kind of an in-between chapter, so more stuff'll start happening soon. I hope you enjoy the direction I'm planning on taking this!
Dark Phoenix Rising—I'm glad you're still liking it. As for HP—hopefully everyone will reappear after a week or so, yeah? -crosses fingers-
Rowena DeVandal—I'm grateful for any review, no matter how short or long or positive or negative (though preferably they aren't negative ;)). Thanks for your continued dedication. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!y
MLC—Sounds like a deal. I'm pretty busy this week, but I'll move you to the top of my list. You'll be hearing from me soon. If not, send me a flame or something. ;)
On to the story!
Chapter 8: A Lot to Learn
Guess I was a bit crazy. Still am, but I figure there's nothing to do about that. Beast's said I'm hopeless more than once—just about every time he comes down to visit, which is much more often now that . . . well, since everything happened.
I tried thinking like a man. Figured if I ever wanted to walk around them, I'd have to keep my claws hidden—after all, I'd never seen any of their claws, and I figured they must keep them hidden too. I didn't think to think that maybe they didn't have them at all.
I stayed away from them at first, though. Just watched them, like I'd watched the wolves. Like I'd watched the men before, along their trapping trail. And I kept moving.
Then:
Wolverine stopped, sniffing softly as he peered down at the odd hard surface beneath his feet.
A road.
They were starting to come easier, now, the almost-memories—the knowing things without knowing how he knew it. And he knew, now, that that wasn't normal.
He had been hiding near the road for some time now, watching the odd carriages—cars—that passed every so often. Cars that stank, and rumbled, and made awful noises—but they weren't alive. Machines. Not food, not even dangerous, unless he were to step out right in front of one, like he almost had the night before . . . .
He was hungry.
He had eaten a scrawny rabbit the day before, after having to dig almost completely beneath a large oak with his claws.
He decided that whatever he was—human or not—he didn't like digging.
And he was still hungry.
He heard another car coming and drew back into the trees, watching again—this time just two passengers.
Two adults—husband and wife, maybe? Man and mate?
He wondered if a woman might hurt him too.
But no. Women could be dangerous, he knew, but there was something else. Something . . . soft beneath the steel. Something intriguing, beautiful, and worth the danger for any man.
Was he a man?
Only one way to find out.
They were going somewhere, these people were, and he was following the road. The scent of cars and people was just increasing, and he drew back, walking alongside the black road in the shadows of the spring trees.
It's funny to go back to the wilderness with the kids. Going into the woods always kind of brings back those early days—when everything just was, and I didn't know what it really meant to be a person. To be a human. To feel beyond pain and confusion and hate and simple pleasure.
These kids are as helpless as lambs out here. If the terrain didn't get them, no doubt they'd somehow find a very angry grizzly and get it to finish the job, if they really were left out here alone. I've already had to chase one off when Ice-Brain decided to get showy to cool everyone off out here. Ended up hitting the big girl right in the face with a snowball. Nice.
They're helpless and they can't even see it, except for Rogue. She's like a natural out here. Good to know that something good came from her having my damn memories. Might just save her life some day.
Now:
"What'cha doin', Logan?" Rogue asked from where she was trying to help Jubilee construct a rough sort of lean-to under a slight overhang of a cliff. Jubilee didn't speak—whether because of her continued avoidance of Logan or the large wad of gum in her mouth, he didn't know. It disgruntled him slightly—he was quite sure he had told the kids that they weren't allowed to bring any food along—and sugar was at the top of the list for the Firecracker, at least. He'd seen and heard her on a number of her sugar-highs, and he knew the danger, even if him being around was like dumping a pail of water over the girl.
"Keepin' notes," he gruffed, not looking up from his notebook.
"No, not like that, Jubilee!" Rogue said suddenly, but it was too late.
With a great shudder, their makeshift little lean-to fell limply on the ground—a mess, but a strangely anticlimactic fall nonetheless: with little noise, but just a little, pitiful slump that ended in ruin. Jubilee bit her lip and glanced at Logan quickly, stepping back from the mess.
Logan glanced up at the destruction without any outward reaction, closing his notebook and standing to stretch leisurely as the first raindrop hit the dirt at his feet. He pulled out a cigar and lit it with his pack of matches.
"No fair, Logan!" Kitty said from where she was struggling with lighting a fire. "How come you get matches?"
"'Cause I'm the teacher, that's why," Logan said, taking a long, satisfied draw.
"Oh, give it here, Kitty," Rogue said, coming beside her and snatching the flint and steel she had. It took a couple tries, but after a couple minutes there was a spark and Rogue carefully started adding fine shavings to the flickering flame. Logan watched with detached interest as he recognized a shadow of his own actions in her motions.
Another raindrop landed at his feet.
Logan flipped the collar of his jacket up, slipped his damned journal into the plastic bag he'd brought along, and stuffed that into his backpack before leaning back and continuing his silent observation.
"Darn it, Rogue, there's not a living thing in this place," Bobby said, clomping into camp. "Not anything to eat, anyway," he added, pausing to lean down and pull large burs and thorns from his pants, which were beginning to look a little worse for wear.
"If you didn't stomp around like the Juggernaut out there, maybe you'd see differently," Logan said. "'Course, you still wouldn't have been able to catch anything."
Bobby frowned, and Logan blew a cloud of smoke in his direction.
"Maybe yer city pigeon had better luck," he said, and though the words could have been seen as encouragement coming from someone else, all four of the students glared at him
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The rain sputtered in Kitty's infant fire.
"No no no!" she moaned. The gust of Warren's landing was just enough to puff out the last wavering spark.
"No luck for food. What about you, Iceman?" he asked, looking to Bobby, who shook his head.
Rogue sat back with a sigh, rubbing her forehead. "It's goin' ta be a looong nigh'."
The heavens opened and released a fury of rain that would have done Storm proud. Soaked within seconds, the kids grabbed their bags and huddled under the tree, as close to the trunk as they could get without violating Logan's very large personal space as he smoked contently against the tree. Large drops pattered on the pine's boughs and began dripping onto their heads. Wolverine just crossed his arms and didn't say anything as the kids stared up at the sky.
"How long is this going to last?" Warren asked, shaking his wings of as much water as he could and brushing his sopping hair from his eyes.
"Probably 'til mornin'," Logan gruffed around his cigar. "So, what now, Icicle? Still think you know what you're doin' out here?"
Bobby glared at him before looking away to glare at the rain, almost audibly grinding his teeth.
"Now what, then?" he asked.
Logan just blew another puff of smoke in his direction and shrugged. "What d'you think? It's a bit late even for me to try to fix up a place to sleep, after that mess you made.
They stood there, the drips becoming more frequent under the branches as they watched the sky grow darker.
Kitty began to shiver, huddling in her jacket with her hair plastered over her forehead. Even Jubilee lacked her usual energy as she stared out at the rain, chewing her wad of gum soberly. Rogue was pulled off her gloves and shook them out, then rubbed her fingers together, her teeth beginning to chatter. Their breath showed up as white mist in the chilling air. Only Bobby, of course, showed no reaction to the cold, though icicles began rising over his head as he tried to stop the rain from coming down through the branches towards them.
Ah, to hell with it.
Logan tossed the remainder of his cigar onto the dirt and ground it under his heel.
"Come on." He stepped out of the meager shelter just as a gust of wind wailed down the cliff above him, lifting his hair wildly around his head even as rain pelted his brow.
"Where are you going?" Warren asked, shivering with his wings around him.
Wolverine didn't answer—he didn't even look back. Rogue was the first to follow, and Jubilee and Kitty followed next. The boys followed last, following the sorry party up the cliff.
They hiked about fifteen minutes, and while the mud grew thick and the rocks slick, no one complained—either because of the noise of the downpour, or simply because there was nothing to be said. Upwards they followed Logan's rain-blurred form, moving quickly to match his even pace.
Finally he stopped, drawing close to the cliff and gesturing them inside to a sizable cave, which Warren could almost walk through without bending.
"Everyone in."
They hurried in, shivering and dripping on the leaf-strewn floor. Logan followed after the last of them, his own hair plastered flat as it ever was.
It took a moment for Rogue's eyes to adjust to the gloom of the cave, but Logan shook like a wet dog, then strode past her towards a fair pile of wood at the back of the cave. He picked out a couple fair-sized pieces.
"All right, Sparks. Those're mostly dry, but if you want to give 'em a buzz, we'll have a fire goin' in no ti—" He turned, holding the wood out to Jubilee. The girl gasped and pulled back sharply at the sudden proximity and almost slipped on the mud as she recoiled.
Logan paused, his jaw tight, and then he tossed the wood on the ground. He crouched down, pulling a match out of his bag. Soon a small fire was burning.
"You knew this was going to happen," Bobby shivered as the feral man bent down, gathering dry leaves and creating a safe circle near the entrance of the cave to allow the smoke to get out without suffocating them.
"I guessed," Logan grunted. "It doesn't take a genius to see somethin' like this was gonna happen."
"So ya went ahead and foun' a cave an' firewood and the whole lot," Rogue said, her shoes squishing with water as she came beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Good thinkin', sugah."
Logan just snorted at that.
A few more minutes and they were all huddled around the merry fire, courtesy of Jubilee and Logan. Their jackets were resting on the rocks nearby, and Warren was rubbing his stomach.
"You didn't happen to get anything to eat?" he asked the Wolverine.
Logan gave him a dark glare from where he stood near the entrance of the cave—the farthest from the fire and appearing all but oblivious to the cold and his dripping state.
"I'm not a babysitter, kid. You won't die from missin' a meal, but Storm'd roast my hide if I brough' you all back with pneumonia."
"Touching how much he cares about us all, isn't it?" Bobby said dryly, nudging his feathered friend. "Warms me right up."
"Survival of the fittest and luckiest, Icepop. You all'll live, and if you learn a lesson all's the better. So long as my hide's whole, you can be as damned miserable as you'd like to make yourself."
"Very touching," Warren agreed, looking to Bobby.
"Don't you have anything to eat, Wolverine?" Kitty asked, frowning at Jubilee, who was now chewing on her flavorless gum with determination.
"Wha's wrong? She just eat her last candy bar?" Logan nodded to Jubilee.
The girl pulled her yellow coat around her. "I didn't bring any food," she muttered, not meeting his eyes. "Just gum."
As if to support her words, her stomach gave a very audible growl. Kitty giggled, but Bobby just wrapped his arms around his stomach sympathetically.
"I hear you, Jubes," he said.
"Hones'ly, you two," Rogue said. "We'll find somethin' in the mornin'." But her eyes flickered towards the man standing vigil at the cave entrance, and he saw that look in her eyes.
Logan grabbed his backpack, pulling out three packs of jerky and tossing them towards the kids. "There," he grunted. "Eat up, ya whiners. But that's all I got, so after tonight . . . that's it."
"Thank you," Warren muttered, looking briefly upwards before grabbing for a bag. He opened it quickly and stuffed a handful into his mouth.
"Thank ya, Logan," Rogue said around a large bite herself as she shared a pack between herself and Kitty. "Brings back some good memories, huh?"
"Just remember I ain't always gonna be here," he said. "I jus' hope you all learned your lessons, and that you all 'll be listening real close tomorrow."
There was an unenthusiastic mutter of agreement, but no complaints. Logan sat back, satisfied. "Good, then. Get some sleep. It'll be an early mornin' for all of you."
Five days later Storm settled down the Blackbird and watched as Logan led the way to the ramp, looking as rough and gruff as he always did, and five bedraggled and filthy students dragged along behind him.
"How'd it go?" Ororo asked as the Wolverine dropped down into a seat beside her, creating a sound of slightly muffled metal-on-metal as his elbow connected with the hard surface of the side of the seat.
He grunted. "Kids still have a lot to learn."
TBC . . .
