I woke up early because I had never been one for goodbyes.
(Not that there had been anyone in my life I had wanted to say goodbye to for years.)
I took a quick shower and dressed just as quickly. I wore the clothes that Rogue had given me: the green jacket, the black shirt, and the dark trousers. The silver amulet the Lady had given me seemed a little heavier than it had been.
Do not dawdle, Kyle. We have much work to do. Get the uru.
That was the Lady, of course. She's such a sentimental sort.
Still, she was right. Nothing could be gained from staying with the X-Men any longer. I had things to do—big things.
Terrible things.
But it was too late to dwell on the choices I had made or regret them now. I had promises to keep. Things to do, and I could not stop it now.
The amulet would have taken me directly to the Dark Elf's store, but having nearly had my brain bleed out of my eyes, I didn't really feel like giving it a try just yet. I decided I'd call for a cab from the kitchen. It wouldn't be cheap, but I had enough money from the X-Men that I could afford it.
The house wasn't totally dark. I could hear a few of the kids talking behind their doors as I made my way through the house—though "house" seemed too small a description for a place this big. The lights in the hallway were dimmed, but I still knew my way well enough to find my way to the kitchen without much trouble.
It had been years since I had last known a place well enough to know my way around it so well.
Wolverine was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee when I got there. He said nothing. Just nodded his head slightly.
I returned the nod, found a phone book, and called for a cab. Once that was done, I settled down to wait.
"Coffee?"
"No thank you." In a way, I was grateful. I knew the odds were that someone would be awake before I left—better Logan than Rogue or Remy. He wasn't likely to expect any kind of conversation.
"So you're leaving."
Okay. I've been wrong before. "Yes. I did what I was hired to do. Now it's time for me to be on my way."
"Good."
I nodded back at him. I wasn't expecting him to be all choked up over my departure. I sighed and glanced at the clock. It was going to be a long wait.
"They told me about the girl." He took a drink of his coffee. "Your first kill?"
"I didn't kill her. Killing her would have been mercy compared to what I did." I shut my eyes. "She's going to live a long time—she just won't be happy about it."
"You regret it."
"Of course I regret it! You think it makes me happy to think about what she's going through? No one deserves that kind of fate—not even her. And I sent her there. It's all on my head."
"She had to be stopped." He took another drink of his coffee. "If I had been there, I would have put her down. She made her choice, and nothing anyone could say was going to stop her. If you hadn't done it, she would have killed you and the others—and then done God knows what."
"So, what's the point of bringing it up? If you agreed with what I did, why did you bring it up?" It was one thing—one of many things—that I really wanted to forget.
"I wanted to know if you regretted it." He finished his coffee. "I wanted to know if you liked it."
"Do you like it, Logan? Do you like it when you kill someone? Do you like having their blood on your hands?"
"I have a lot of blood on my hands, kid. And … yeah. Some of it I enjoyed. There are people who really deserved to die—and I took them out. Yes. I've killed—and I've liked it. Not always. Sometimes." He looked at me. "I needed to find out about you."
"Why?"
"Rogue cares about you. The Cajun cares about you. They're important to me."
"You don't have to worry. You won't see me again. I'm getting what I came for, and then I'm leaving New York far behind me. I don't belong here."
"With us? With mutants?"
"With people."
Power. The Lady had promised me power. I had gone to great lengths to get it. Years of study. Years on the road. Years alone. Now when it was in my grasp—real power—why did I feel so reluctant to proceed? Why did I want to stay here—in this place, with these people?
I didn't belong here. I had never belonged anywhere. All I had ever had in life was the magic—and it had always been enough.
Logan smiled. It was just the barest hint of one—and I could see his teeth in a way that made me more than a little nervous given that he had recently kicked the hell out of me—but it was definitely a smile. "You think this magic of yours—this spell or ritual or whatever it is you're up to—you think that's going to make you happy?"
"No. I don't do happy, Wolverine. Happiness is for other people." I held up a hand and called forth the magic in me until it burned with foxfire. "I'm all about the power."
He snorted. "Keep on telling yourself that, kid. Maybe you'll believe it."
A car horn honked.
"It doesn't really matter does it, Wolverine?" I stood up. "I'm not your problem. I'm not your friend. And I'm not going to see any of you again." I closed my hand and let the fire drop. "My time with the X-Men is done."
"What about Rogue? What about Remy?"
"They're better off without me." I headed to the door. "And I'm better off without them."
Maybe if I told myself that long enough, I'd believe it.
"So long, kid."
I was at the door when he spoke again. "Kyle?"
"The regret? Hang onto that. It could be the only thing that saves you."
"Saves me? You haven't been paying attention, Logan. There's nothing left of me to save."
And I walked through the door.