Title: Reasonable Doubts 2/5 - Imbroglio
Author: Gowdie
Category: Logan and Rogue romance. Just enough angst to get the story moving, a lot of laughter and eventually a happy ending. Hopefully like life!
Rating: PG13 for language and graphic fish death.
Archive: Please dear God, please let someone want this. Just please also let them send me a message so I can write a thank you note and visit.
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!
Thanks: To Kim and Diebin for both offering support and encouragement the second I mentioned the words "writing a story". To my real life friend Narla for listening to me ramble on and on about Logan and Rogue even though she doesn't get the pairing, proofing this story and most of all helping me hide the evidence of my latest addiction from my disapproving roommate. Now that is what real friends are for.
Author Notes: I am sorry this is so late, but weird stuff kept happening. Like Rogue, instead of just going where she was supposed to, kept having emotional moments along the way. And she had this bizarre story about fishing to tell. Then Scott, of all people, show up yesterday and started whispering about how fun a second scene with Logan would be. In the end, I actually have grown to love this part, when I started out hating it, so I think it was worth the wait.
Jell-O cake: white cake, poke holes with skewer, poor cherry jell-o down the holes, ice with whip cream. "The movie based on the book by that Canadian guy": Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat
Note to PETS: See see see! Isn't Scott so much more realized and responsibly used in this part?
Jean Grey was taking in a morning jog. She was still trying to clear her head from the previous nights events and a long hard run by the lake, in the cool spring air seemed like the best remedy.
After she had returned to the party, things had become even more bizarre. The second she walked in the door she was tackled and blindfolded. She had actually panicked, fearing the worst; the crazed teens wouldn't actually dare to bring a striper to the institute, would they? She was about to reach out with her mind searching for the scantily clad male presence when she found herself being spun around in dizzying circles. Then a piece of cardboard was thrust in her hand and she was dared to "pin the tail on the donkey." However when she was finally allowed to remove the blindfold the picture staring back at her was not something she would ever dream of describing as a "donkey" and the object she had pinned to the bulging pectoral was certainly not a "tail". After that, the rest of the night descended into a blurry haze of new linens, teacups, crotchless underwear and an incident involving a pink Jell-O cake.
When she finally came within sight of the lake Jean stopped short. Sitting on the grass covered bank was Rogue, alone. It was barely seven o'clock. Rogue was the last person she had expected to see on this particular morning. Jean wouldn't have been at all surprised if no one had heard from Logan or Rogue all day. She had assumed the couple would stay holed up in Logan's room, possibly emerging briefly at some point only long enough to gather provisions. It was still cold outside for crying out loud. Shouldn't the girl be snuggled under a down comforter, head nestled against a hairy chest with strong arms and legs wrapped around her, keeping her safe and warm, protected from the rest of the world?
Jean grinned at the obvious direction her thoughts were headed. Every woman was allowed the occasional fantasy, even those who were deeply in love with their ideal mate. At the same time, Rogue certainly was a very lucky girl. Or at least she should be a very lucky girl. The fact she was sitting alone was causing Jean to have serious doubts about exactly how lucky the girl had been the night before. Okay, clearly a delicate girl to girl chat was in order. She approached softly, "Rogue?"
Startled out of her contemplation Rogue jumped to her feet and faced the older woman. Jean again, just the person she wanted to see. Rogue loved Jean, but at this particular juncture in her life she really didn't understand why she had to be repeatedly bombarded with her presence. It almost seemed like the fates felt the need to constantly remind her of who she could never be. Trying to sound as neutral as possible she offered, "Hi. I'm sorry for leaving your party last night."
Jean gave a conspiratorial smile, "Trust me, that is okay. I was looking for an escape route myself. It got a little ... strange after a while."
Rogue blushed. "And I'm sorry for after. We had no right to be in there."
Jean touched the girl's arm, "Hey, as far as I am concerned the two of you have nothing to apologize for." Opportunity available, she decided to take the plunge. "I am a little surprised to find you out here this morning ... alone."
Rogue was still clinging to the hope that the exact nature of Logan's plan had somehow crept by the Doctor's notice. "Oh. I wanted to be by myself and I don't know where it came from, but I kinda felt this need inside to commune with the woods. So here I am, communing."
Jean pressed on. "I understand. Sometimes I feel the need to take a step back to regain perspective. See how I feel in the world, after ... some ... kind ... of big ... change."
Rogue's face scrunched up. Oh God, here we go again, she thought. "Change?" she squeaked.
The pained expression on Rogue's face revealed everything. After all this time the pair still hadn't reached an understanding. Concern flooding her voice, "Rogue, did Logan talk to you after you left my lab last night?"
Rogue turned to face the lake. "Oh we talked." Trying to dismiss the conversation, "He can get some pretty crazy ideas, you know?"
"I know." Focusing all of her attention on the younger woman in front of her, "Rogue, it might not be my place to say anything, but Logan..." She never had a chance to finish the sentence. Something hard and sharp struck her from behind and knocked her to the ground. The last thing she heard was Rogue's gasp.
Rogue turned to find her friend lying on the ground. Still standing on the unconscious woman's back was, of all the unexpected things, a rather large wolf. Her mind was screaming, but wolves aren't supposed to really attack people. I saw that movie, based on the book by that Canadian guy, god damn it! The wolf apparently had other ideas. She watched in horror as the animal started to pace in a circle around her. She slowly knelt to check Jean. Still alive. The grey frightening mass of fur and muscle, bared its teeth. A deep growl came from inside and then it barked. It lowered itself down on its hind legs, making its intentions known. It was going to attack. She had no where to go. No defenses to use. There was no guarantee she could reach the creatures skin before its claws and teeth made contact with her own flesh. She ripped off her gloves, she had no choice. Repeating to herself, "Just enough, I will only take enough," she touched Jean's face. She felt the pull flood her body and mind. The wolf seemed to wait a moment and then finally lunged. Rogue pointed her hand in the direction of the animal and together her mind and soul commanded "Stop."
The wolf froze mid-flight. Rogue stood and she and the animal regarded each other, neither seeming to know what to do next. Then the wolf cocked its head to the side and almost smiled. The girl could do nothing but watch as the creature slowly started to change form, slithering down until it stood on two legs; a blue woman with red hair and yellow eyes. Mystique approached her and Rogue instinctively backed away, leaving the side of her friend. She continued taking steps toward the trees, stumbling, as she watched the shape shifter bend and touch Jean's neck. The blue woman turned to look her directly in the eye, a smile dancing on her face. "How interesting," the monster purred, "she's dead."
Rogue ran.
Logan had spent another night in the woods. He had gone to a particularly dense part of the estate, on the opposite side of the mansion from the lake. He wanted to make sure he didn't run into anyone. Once again he spread himself on the ground and watched the stars, looking for answers. Though this time he had the sneaking suspicion the stars were mocking him. They stared back down at him and taunted, "Back again? Just how many nights do you have to spend out here till you get it right? We're just stars you know. There is only so much contemplation we can offer."
Holy shit, he had screwed up. He had actually walked around for a year, believing he had an established romantic relationship with Marie and she had no idea. She thought he loved her as what? A sister? A sister!
He rolled to his stomach, face down in the dirt and groaned. Okay, clearly the kid had lost her mind at some point, but hell, that was probably his fault to somehow. How was he going to fix this? Back to square one apparently. How to start? Asking her to dinner seemed like a good idea. Away from the institute for a change. Some place romantic, with candles for sure. Maybe a guy on a violin if he could find one. Though how he would survive the weirdness of a guy on a violin standing over them for longer than thirty seconds he didn't know.
There was still the problem of when. He was deeply worried if he waited too long Marie would only use the time to certify and cement her own ideas. At the same time if he approached her right away she might be defensive. She might not want to talk to him at all. He was torn between giving her a little space to regroup and completely suffocating her with affection. He had no idea which was the best route. He was going to have to ask someone; someone with experience dealing with a complicated woman. He was painfully starting to realize who that someone was going to have to be and all he could think was Scooter was going to laugh his ass off at the idea of the Wolverine coming to him for dating advice. Not in a hundred million years was he ever going to live this down.
It was then that he received the call inside his head from Charles. "By the lake. Something is wrong. Jean and Rogue."
Logan ran. He wasn't even conscious of the branches he swatted out of his way. His mind was simply repeating, not now, please God, not now.
When he finally reached the clearing he almost tripped as he took in the scene before him. Scott was already there, standing over Jean, who was almost grey, lifeless. His insides clenched as he watched the younger man slightly shaking his head, a single silent word repeating on his lips, "No." Finally Scott knelt beside his fiancé, placing his hand on her cheek. At first barely a whisper, "She's alive." Then almost an elated shout, "She's alive!"
The leader picked the woman up and held her securely against his chest. The two men looked at each other, each almost asking for permission, and came to a silent agreement. Scott would take his love back to the safety of the mansion. Logan would find Marie.
By the time Scott started walking, Logan was already following Marie's scent back into the trees. At first her path didn't make sense, winding back and forth erratically, clearly demonstrating her panicked state of mind. Then all of a sudden Logan realized he was following a straight path with an obvious destination. He started to feel helpless; if she made it he wouldn't be able to track her. Sure enough, when he reached the road, her scent completely disappeared. There was nothing he could do but go back.
When Logan returned to the mansion he found Scott just exiting the medical lab. He looked upset, but not devastated. Logan took that as a good sign. Before he could even open his mouth to ask about Jean, Scott was already addressing him. "I was coming up to help you. You didn't find Rogue?"
Logan shook his head. "I lost her scent by the road. She must have caught a ride."
Scott's brow creased, "Do you really think she would hitch a ride with just anyone?"
If he wasn't so worried Logan would have smiled at that. He answered wryly, "It's kind of how we met." Scott let out the tiniest huff of air that might have been a chuckle and shook his head. "You were coming out to ask about Rogue. Does that mean Jean is going to be okay?"
"Jean is going to be fine. She is still unconscious but she should be okay. Storm is watching over her while the Professor goes through some files." Scott leaned his back against the wall, took a deep breath and let out some the tension he had been holding in. "It seems she hit her head. There might be a slight concussion, but it is not too serious. The weird part is there is bruising and scratches on her back. It looks almost like an animal attack of some kind." He paused. He really wasn't sure how to brooch the next part with Logan. "And there is something else." He took a breath, "From just the bump on her head, she should have woken up by now. On a hunch we went through some of Jean's old data ... on you." Another pause. Finally he looked Logan in the eye. "The thing is, it looks almost like Rogue."
Scott just waited while the other man processed this information. Logan felt himself staring at the door of the med lab as he tried to put the pieces together. "If there was an animal, Marie would have needed a way to defend herself."
Scott nodded. "I understand. It was the right decision, but that doesn't explain why she ran to the road instead of back to us."
Logan chewed on the inside of his mouth, mind racing. "She was upset already and she really doesn't like to hurt anybody, let alone Chuck's favorite." And then realization dawned. He looked Scott directly in the eye. "When you first saw Jean, you thought she was dead."
Scott couldn't breathe, nausea burning up inside him at the awfulness of what Logan was suggesting. Barely a whisper, "Oh my God."
Logan felt a growl building up inside him, "I need to find her ... now."
"I'll come with you."
Logan started sucking in air erratically as his hand animatedly hovered in front of him, attempting to point at Scott, "No, you stay with Jean." Scott opened his mouth to argue but was cut off. "If there is some sort of animal around here, you and Storm should stay here anyway." A pause and an admission, "This is kind of my mess. I need to bring her back."
"He is right, considering all the circumstances, we need you here, Scott." Both men swung around, startled to find Professor Xavier had silently approached them. With wise, sympathetic eyes on Logan, "Rogue has proven herself to be a very resourceful girl in the past, I am sure she will be fine until you get to her. I will attempt to track her with Cerebro and I am sure the two of you will be home in no time."
Scott pulled himself up to his full height, stood directly in front of the larger man and pointed a finger in his chest. "You check in. If you get into any trouble, if something even smells suspicious you contact us first. I can be there in no time in the jet and I will back you. Do not play the hero and go in somewhere you shouldn't alone."
Logan raised an eyebrow and drawled, "Are you done Dad?"
Scott thought for a moment. Adamantly, "You check in!"
Rogue was trying not to panic.
Her instincts had told her to run and run she had. If she had been thinking, she wouldn't have believed her luck when a truck happened by almost the second after she had reached the road. As it was she just blindly started hopping up and down waving her arms frantically until it stopped and climbed in and stuttered "North?" The man nodded, she buckled in and off they went. They had sat in an odd silence for the first few minutes. Rogue could feel the burly, flannel and jeans clad driver glancing at her, expecting her to say something, anything, but her brain had completely shut down and she certainly wasn't capable of small talk.
Finally the man had broke, removed the cigar from his mouth and asked, "Look kid, are you in some kinda trouble?" At that she started to cry, huge gasping sobs that shook her whole body. And so they continued to drive, Rogue doubled over and bawling into her knees, and the driver uncomfortably shifting in his seat, chewing on his cigar and tightly gripping the wheel. After about an hour he pulled over at a rest stop. Rogue had started pulling herself together and just stared straight ahead at the tiny parking lot, remembering to breathe. He turned in his seat to face her. "I'm real sorry kid, but this town is where I drop off my load and then turn south again." He watched her for a moment. "Do you need me to call anybody? Your parents? Maybe the police?"
Rogue couldn't keep in a small snort at that comment. She shook her head and turned to face him for the first time. She gave her very best reassuring smile and said, "No, it's ... it's nothing like that. I'm sorry for acting so strange, I just needed to get away." She unbuckled herself and opened the door. As she hopped down she added, "Thanks for the ride."
Before she could close the door the man leaned across the seat and held it open. "Hey kid, you gonna be alright?" Breathe, just breathe. He's fifty years old and has way to big a beer belly to remind you of anyone important. "I feel kinda weird just leaving you here like this."
"I'll be fine." She forced a huge grin and added in as worldly a tone as she could muster, "This isn't exactly my first time on the road." The man looked a little relieved, nodded, closed the door and finally drove off leaving a cloud of dust and gravel in his wake.
Rogue sighed and hauled herself over to the picnic table to wait for her next ride. She didn't have to wait long. A little blue hatchback pulled up. Rogue watched as a forty-something woman with blonde shoulder length hair, dressed in weekend wear and not possessing a single characteristic that would cause any painful memory associations, emerged and headed to the back of the building where the washrooms were located. It seemed like forever until she reappeared. Rogue had just worked up some courage when the woman suddenly turned and went in the little store. Damn it. She watched anxiously through the glass as the intended target took forever picking out some snacks. Finally the bell on the door jangled and the blonde was headed back to her car. Rogue sat up straight and looked at the woman directly until she caught her eye. Eye contact achieved, Rogue was about to jump from her perch on the table but instead ended up staring open mouthed as the woman approached her instead. A beautifully warm smile, "Hey hon, I'm Nancy, you need a ride?"
Rogue had eagerly accepted of course and that was how she ended up sitting in a comfortable car, listening to easy rock and having some time to stop and think. That was when the panic started to set in. She was overwhelmed with the realization she had no idea what she had gotten herself into. She had run with nothing. No cash, no i.d. and no clothes except the jeans, t-shirt and windbreaker she was wearing. She was a freaking idiot. The last time she had at least had a route in mind, not to mention a bag and some money. Okay, so she had completely run out of cash and was practically starving by the time Logan found her, but at least she had started out right.
Logan. By now he would know. By now he was hating her. No, she could give him more credit than that, for the moment he was probably torn. But soon, very soon, bitterness at what she had taken would set in and he would never forgive her. It was weird, she could hear Jean's voice in her head, telling her to go back, that Scott, the Professor, even Logan would understand, but Rogue knew better. Since the moment she had touched her, Rogue had been focusing at least half her energy shutting out everything that was Jean. The last thing she wanted was a dead woman's thoughts haunting her, especially when said dead woman was telling her such sweet lies. She could never see Logan, or Scott or the Professor ever again, that was the end of it.
Hey, her practical side rallied, stop wasting time thinking about that. We are busy concentrating on what a moron you are. Right. Moron. No cash, no i.d., no breakfast for Christ's sake. Well, too late for regrets. She couldn't very well go back and say, "Um, don't mind me. Just came back to get a few things and then let's try this again." She was just going to have to deal.
Suddenly Nancy's voice intruded on her thoughts. "Hey hon, where are you headed anyway?"
Rogue thought for a moment. "Well, I was planning on crossing into Canada, but I've just kind of realized I forgot my i.d.. I don't know how I'm going to get across the boarder."
"You just stick with me." Nancy gave her another beautiful smile. "I'm going up to my cottage in the Ottawa valley. With this car packed with only outdoor clothes and a cooler we don't look too threatening. I go across all the time. If you look like a family they don't pay too much attention to you. If they ask, you're my daughter, they probably won't even ask for your name, let alone any identification."
"Are you sure? I really don't want to get you in any trouble."
"Trouble?" Nancy chuckled. "Trust me, we will be crossing in the middle of a Saturday. The only time they would hassle a couple of nice mother/daughter looking women like us is when they are bored out of their skulls at five in the morning." Rogue relaxed a little. "You hungry? I picked up some food back there. It's in the bag I put in the back seat." Rogue hoped her face didn't show the slight joy she felt at the mention of food but it must have, cause Nancy took one look at her and laughed again. "Go on, I can see you are practically starving."
Rogue found the bag and sorted through the contents. She asked Nancy if she wanted anything but she merely shook her head and said she was fine for the moment. Rogue immediately started sucking back the apple juice drink box she found. It felt really good, she hadn't even noticed with everything else going on in her head, but she was seriously dehydrated. Next she unwrapped and devoured the sandwich. Chicken salad, she thought, a serious step up from beef jerky. No, her brain chastised again, no Logan, just eat.
By the time she finished she was relaxed to the point she was starting to feel dozy. She shifted and slumped down in her seat. Nancy must have noticed her drooping eyelids because she said, "Oh Sweetie, you just nap if you want to. You look like you could use a break. I'll wake you when we get to the boarder." Rogue felt herself smile and mutter a thanks just before she drifted off.
Logan had just finished packing the jeep when he heard the completely unexpected offer behind him. "You can take the bike. It's a lot faster ... as you well know."
Logan took a moment to eye Scott and then slammed the back door. "Thanks, but I think this will be easier to throw her into and strap her down." A mutter as he fidgeted with his gloves, "And then give her a good talking to on the ride back."
Scott frowned a little at the last comment but decided to ignore it. "You've got a line on Rogue?"
Logan started patting his pockets looking for a cigar. "Yeah, the Professor located her headed toward the border with some housewife. She looks safe for the moment."
"North again?"
A small huff. "Old habits really do die hard I guess." Cigar located he put it in his mouth and began the search for his lighter. "When I run I go north. When Marie ran before she went north. Put the two of us together in one head, what other direction are you going to come up with?" He looked back at the other man, he couldn't believe how calm he was. "Jeanie is really going to be okay?"
Scott smiled a little and nodded. "She is going to be fine. She is still unconscious. We just have to wait for her to gain her own energy back on her own time, but she is going to be perfectly fine. Please make sure to tell Rogue that," a pause, "and that I understand."
Logan gave up on the lighter and sighed. "Oh I'm thinking the first words out of my mouth are going to be 'Jean's alive!' followed quickly by, 'and no one is mad at you.'" He rubbed his face with his hands. "Then I get to start my very own chant of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'"
Scott frowned, confused. "I have no response to that."
Logan snorted. "Oh I know how you feel."
Scott looked at his feet, unsure if he should ask the next question, but it did seem Logan was providing an unprecedented opening. Maybe he really did want to talk ... to him. "Logan, what, what did you mean when you said this was your mess?"
This was going to be painful, but it was what he had been fishing for. He leaned forward and looked directly at Scott. "Marie ... doesn't ... know."
In earnest, "Doesn't know what?"
Oh come on, was the weenie actually going to make this hard? Logan huffed as his eyes shifted around the room. "She doesn't know," a very painful moment of silence, "that I love her."
Scott's mouth fell open; he couldn't help it. He started stuttering in disbelief, "How can she not know? I know. I'm a guy, we never know. Jean didn't even have to tell me or anything."
Logan's eyes narrowed at the implications regarding his unmanly behavior and snapped, "Thanks."
Scott still couldn't stop. "But how could she not know? Everybody knows!"
Logan spread his arms and smirked, "Well apparently I'm the world's biggest asshole."
Scott finally stopped for a moment and assessed the situation. Considering their relationship was pretty much grounded in torment he couldn't let this one go without some comment. Logan would certainly return the favour at some point later on. "Wow. That really sucks."
"Oh I know it." Logan had a vague idea of what was coming, but if he really wanted Scott's advice he was just going to have to suffer through the harassment first. He would have done the same if their positions were reversed.
"But it is kind of amusing when you think about it. The hairy animal surprises us all by finally settling down and falling desperately for the slip of a girl who adores him, and the girl, doesn't even realize..."
Logan gaped. "What?"
"Well you know, she adored you since the whole touching thing, and we were all worried you were going to be stupid and break her heart and were thrilled when you came to your senses..."
"No!" The cigar was waving in the air. "I mean, what did you call her?"
Scott shrugged. "Slip of a girl? It means lithe, delicate."
Logan's eyes narrowed in disbelief. While shaking his head, "Have you ever met Marie?"
"You don't think she's delicate?"
"She could kick your ass, Summers!" Both men chuckled at the truth in that statement. There was a reason you don't tick off any of the women in the X-Men. Logan sighed as he remembered exactly what mission he was embarking on. "So Scooter, any advice?"
Scott crossed his arms, genuinely confused by this complex problem. "I don't know. I could talk to her."
"Yeah, and that's not embarrassing as hell."
"You could try touching her again. Then she will know without a doubt."
"Don't you think that's a bit of a desperate measure?"
Scott flailed his arms in exasperation. "Well Logan, what other choice do you have. I mean, I have watched you do everything else short of flowers and candy. I would say make love to her, but I assumed you would have found a way to do that a long time ago."
Logan turned and rested his aching head on the metal vehicle. This was embarrassing in the extreme. "I tried suggesting that last night and she freaked." A full body sigh. "I think she thought it was some sort of act of pity or something."
Scott took a few slow steps forward and leaned with his back against the jeep beside his friend. "Tell her you love her." Logan's head turned, his eyes clearly telling him he had done that. "Tell her again. If she doesn't believe you tell her again and again. How would you feel if you lost her?"
Logan closed his eyes. "Like dying. She's my world."
Scott smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Tell her that, no woman can resist that."
When Rogue woke up from her "nap" she was very confused. She may have tried convincing herself it was all a dream, some volatile reaction to spiked bridal shower punch, except she realized immediately she was still wearing her noisy windbreaker and the hard surface she was lying on certainly wasn't her bed. No, it was a very cold floor. Her head was pounding like it was splitting open. She felt hung over, but that didn't make any sense. Maybe she felt, she felt ... drugged.
Drugged! That thought sent her immediately to her feet, despite how dizzy she was and how much her body ached. She was in a room by herself. A very dark room. It looked like an office, complete with a desk, but unlike anything she had seen before, the walls were a mix of rock and steel. Steel. Oh God, not again. Just as the last horrifying pieces fell into place she heard Eric's unmistakable voice behind her. "Oh good, you're up. I was beginning to worry Mystique may have overestimated your body weight and you would be out for days."
Rogue turned to see Eric smiling calmly from the doorway with Nancy holding a tray of food behind him. She looked at her new "friend" and drawled, "We meet again. For the third time today isn't it?" Nancy just gave another beautiful smile and slowly started to change. When the other woman stood in her full tall blue glory Rogue turned her attention back to Eric and accused, "So I suppose this means there is some poor dead woman waiting to be found in a rest stop bathroom somewhere in New York state?"
Eric's eyes glinted in amusement at her confidence in addressing him. "No, of course not. My Mystique assures me she only knocked her a little unconscious. Just enough to get the job done."
Rogue tried to sound casual. "Well it certainly is a more subtle approach than the last time."
Eric almost looked sympathetic. "I didn't want you to be afraid Rogue. I knew you wouldn't seek me out of your own free will, so I needed to devise a way to make sure you found your way here."
Might as well be direct. "What am I doing here?"
"Getting warm. Eating a hot meal." He gestured to the shape shifter who moved forward and placed the tray on the desk. "Having a conversation."
Rogue eyed the food suspiciously. "You aren't planning on killing me? You don't want to put me in that machine again?"
"No child. The last thing I want is to bring you harm." He crossed to his side of the desk and sat down. He gestured again to Mystique and the woman silently almost glided from the room.
Rogue watched the departing figure. "You'll understand if I have a little trouble believing you?"
"I suppose that is the natural reaction considering our history." He nodded towards the front of the desk and added, "Why don't you have a seat?"
Rogue considered her options and then resignedly took her place opposite him. She crossed her arms in front of her. "What kind of conversation?"
Eric leaned forward. "I understand your power allowed you to see into my mind. You know I am not the devil."
Rogue crossed her legs and swung her foot, attempting to look unimpressed. "I know you do the things you do because you're scared."
"I am scared. Do you understand what it is that I am afraid of?"
She narrowed her eyes and with a smug grin declared, "That all human beings are no better than Nazis."
"How insightful." A pause. "You, a girl who can kill with a simple touch. You could very well be the most dangerous weapon in the world." His tone became a little more harsh. "Do you really believe that humans, knowing what you are capable of, would be brave enough to let you live? Even other mutants fear you."
Rogue froze. That comment cut inside her. "Mutants understand I never want to hurt anybody."
"Do they? After the demonstration you gave this morning?" He paused, letting his words sink in. "But I understand you. We are very similar you and I."
"Similar?" she spat. "You want a war!"
Eric sighed, "Perhaps you don't understand all the images in your head. I don't want a war child, I am prepared for its inevitability. It may be subtle, but it is an important distinction." He placed his hand on the desk, index finger pointed towards her. "We are similar because we understand that sometimes sacrifices need to be made."
Rogue was growing tired of this conversation. "Like you were going to sacrifice me?"
"Yes. But that was a mistake. I was lacking foresight at the time. Do you have any idea how powerful you are? What potential you have?"
Rogue lowered her voice, seeing the simple truth. "You want to use me."
Eric sat back in his chair. "When the time comes I want you to be on my side yes. You will also come to want that eventually."
Rogue craned her neck forward to emphasize her point, "But I'M not going to sacrifice anyone."
"You already have," he stated flatly. In a casual tone, "It was the right choice. There is no shame in your actions. You believed if you acted otherwise you would have both died. That is the point; survival is key. Your instinct to survive is strong enough to overcome your moral quandaries, strong enough to fight." He stopped as he saw her eyes widen at his comments about her. He didn't want to scare her off. He wanted to gain her trust. "That will come in time. For now I offer you refuge. I don't believe you will find it anywhere else. Charles is a remarkably forgiving man, but you have killed his favorite. Stay with us for a while. You will have a warm bed, food to eat and I am sure you will find our company more hospitable than the trucker willing to give you a ride. Most importantly I will not judge you. If you decide it is tolerable, stay on. If you don't you are free to go. Since you don't really have a destination you can't be in any hurry to run to nowhere."
Rogue didn't know what to do. She was a little afraid how his attitude would change if she actually did try to leave. At the same time she knew from having him in her head, Eric was not a truly evil man. He didn't kill indiscriminately. She didn't believe he would hurt her without reason. If she let him believe she was considering his offer of joining the Brotherhood she would be safe here for a while, as long as he understood, "I don't want to fight my friends."
Eric steepled his fingers under his chin and agreed, "Neither do I child, neither do I."
Logan was desperately trying to remain calm, but it wasn't going to well. It had been three days. Worse Marie had dropped off the Cerebro radar sometime in the middle of the first night. No one was sure what had happened. The most Charles had been able to tell him was the last time he checked she was still with the same woman, on a dirt road near a small town about an hour south west of Ottawa. "Great," Logan had growled, "cottage country." That ain't like finding a pine needle in a god damned forest.
If Charles had told him one more time not to panic Logan was sure he was going to smash something. Charles assured him again and again that they didn't yet know all the limitations of Cerebro. Perhaps if she was in a particularly dense part of the woods, or even a cave they wouldn't be able to locate her. Or at the bottom of a lake, Logan had silently added. He refrained from asking the one question that sat in the bottom of his stomach; what happened when a person died? Did they show up on the radar then?
Scott had once again offered to join him. Logan turned him down, telling him this was his specialty. Tracking someone was what he was built for after all. "Don't let your pride get in the way of accepting help Logan," Scott had warned.
Logan responded flatly, "Right now I don't have any pride left Summers." He remade his promise to call if he found anything that looked dangerous.
The second day had been spent breaking into all the deserted cottages along the dirt road Charles had indicated. Perhaps Marie had found her way in and decided to stay somewhere warm and dry. Of course he found nothing. The last day he started combing the woods. The one break he had been given was at least the road in question had a dead end. That narrowed his search to the one particular area. One particular area that happened to be about five square miles of trees.
Logan thought of Scott's offer again as he found yet another hunting trail. No, he wanted to do this on his own. He was starting to realize he just wanted to be alone when he found the body. Then it would be a lot easier to disappear himself.
Rogue was in her tiny bed in her bare room, wide awake. She could not sleep well here. She was used to the warmth and smell of the old, rich wood and the comforting glow it created in the lamplight. In her room at the school she had always felt cozy and safe. In this room she could not deny the fact she was in a cave. Oh it was a cave with all the modern conveniences and the granite walls were covered in steel, but it was nonetheless a big cold rock that surrounded her. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't close her eyes and escape where she was and exactly what she had done.
During the day she was pretty much supervised. They left her alone but there was always someone around. Eric had specifically asked her to remain inside, they wouldn't want her to get lost. Right, lost. The last two days had seemed particularly odd. Twice she had walked in on the large man known as Sabertooth and Eric talking quietly, they stopped when they saw her approach. Everyone seemed tense. She was worried she might have to face a confrontation about her loyalties earlier than she had anticipated. At night though, she was left on her own in the frigid silence. She would curl up under her blanket and search her mind for one perfect memory to attempt to hide in. This night it was fishing.
Rogue wasn't exactly sure why Logan had insisted on teaching her how to fish. She suspected it might have something to do with the skating debacle of the previous winter. She had made him do something he considered girly and he had fallen on his ass right in front of Scott and Jean. Still on his back he glared up into Scott's smiling face and simply growled, "Not one word One Eye." As she picked him up and dusted him off he watched Scott and Jean gracefully glide away and grumbled, "Am I supposed to be impressed that the pansy can skate? Just makes him look even more faggotty if you ask me." She glared at him and made an observation she had kept to herself for a long time; he and Scott took far too much joy out of tormenting each other for their hatred to be sincere. They acted more like teenage brothers than real rivals. He tugged on her arm, took a few tentative slides and told her he had no idea what she was talking about.
Yes, fishing was definitely revenge. Logan wanted to make her do something manly, complete with a rusty tin can of slimy worms. What he didn't know was she had no intention of allowing him the satisfaction of watching her squirm. She plopped down beside him on the end of the dock, stuck her gardening gloved hand in the can, snagged a worm and impaled it on her hook without a moment's hesitation. She turned a triumphant smile on him and pertly asked, "Now what?"
He shook his head and chuckled a little. "You certainly are something kid."
She arched an eyebrow and teasingly inquired, "Something good?"
"Yeah, something good. Come here kid." He put his own pole down and shifted over till he was right beside her, his hip pressed against hers. He leaned back and put his arm around her, covering her hand on the pole with his. Together they reached back and then flung the pole forward, his thumb pressing down on hers over the button at the right moment. The worm sailed into the middle of the lake.
So much for revenge. She loved the entire interlude. The sky was clouded and the dock was wet from the early morning rain, but the lake was absolutely still and peaceful. Perfect conditions for fishing, he told her. They chatted quietly and ate the sandwiches she had made. She even enjoyed how his cigar smelled mixed with the scent of rain and the musty old wood of the dock.
At the end of the day she had caught four fish and he hadn't reeled in anything aside from the occasional clump of seaweed. She had to gloat a little. As they walked up the path she carried the fish dangling from the chain at eye level and inspected them as they wiggled around. "You know, when I first caught it I thought number four was bigger than number three, but now I'm thinking it's really number three that's bigger." He just looked at her with his eyes narrowed, nose crinkled and his lips kind of pursed She knew he wasn't really mad. Logan was never really mad on these occasions which is why she knew it was safe to tease and he would always obligingly pretend to be grumpy. It was a routine they both enjoyed.
When they got to the kitchen he gestured to the sink and said, "Well, there you go." She just stared at him in confusion. He looked at her pointedly, "The rule is Marie, you catch em, you clean em."
She took on an unimpressed pose, one arm crossed in front of her, the other holding the fish up at shoulder level, swinging casually to the side. "Unless you seriously intend for me to give these fish a bath, I suggest that you, oh great fishing guru, ought to do whatever cleaning it is you have in mind."
He heaved a great sigh to demonstrate exactly how put out he was, snatched to fish from her and plopped them unceremoniously in the sink. He routed around in a drawer and produced a long slender knife which he began to sharpen. He noticed her standing there, mouth opening and closing the way it does when she has a question she isn't sure how to ask. "What?"
"You ... I mean I thought ... um..." She shifted on her feet and kind of pointed at his hands. "You aren't going to use," her hand flapped a little, "your claws?"
His nose wrinkled and he looked at the fish somewhat disgustedly. "This is fish guts. I don't want smelly fish guts on my claws."
More hand flapping and shifting. "But you stab people with them."
"When I have to. And people don't smell like fish guts." She kind of snorted. Feeling the need to defend himself he continued, "Look if I was lost in the woods, knifeless and hungry I would happily skin a fish with my claws. As it is we are in a civilized environment as you keep reminding me."
She smiled. "Watch it Logan, or people are going to think I've tamed you or something."
He muttered down to the knife, "Well they wouldn't be wrong."
As he continued preparations, finding some newspaper and a cutting bored, she stared down at the fish as they flopped helplessly in the sink. She was starting to feel pangs of guilt. Finally ready, Logan picked up the first fish, unhooked it from the chain and placed it on the bored. Knife posed in the air he hesitated and turned to her. "Are you sure you want to watch?"
Looking not at him but at the fish waiting on the bored she answered, "I kind of feel like I owe it to the fish." A pause. "Maybe it's silly, but I'm the reason they're dying, I feel like I should at least observe their death or something."
A moment passed and he nodded. Then he turned his attention back to the fish and pressed the knife down hard. He leaned his weight into the effort and with a crunch the head was removed from the body. As he pulled the head away some organs came with it and he tossed the waste on the newspaper. There was some blood, but not as much as she had thought there would be. He turned the fish upright and carefully cut along one side of the spine and then the other, separating meat from bone. Finally he held one half of the remainder and ran the knife between the flesh and the skin, leaving a perfect white filet. She was oddly fascinated. She had never watched anything aside from an insect die. She felt different, less innocent.
He cleaned up the newspaper, put the bored and knife into the sink to soak and washed his hands in the hot soapy water. As he placed the fish into a baggy he eyed her and asked, "So, do you want to cook these up for dinner tonight?"
"Maybe tomorrow?" she answered softly.
"Okay." He smiled a bit as he tossed the bag of filets into the freezer. He walked over to her and enveloped her in a deep hug. "You did good kid. You did real good."
She wrapped her arms around him and spoke into his chest. "Logan, I like fishing with you, but I absolutely draw the line at hunting. I can handle the fish death, but I am not watching you do that to Bambi."
He chuckled and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. "Okay kid, you got a deal, but then I don't want to see you coming anywhere near me with a pair of roller blades or other fandangled contraption."
For a moment, in her bed in the cave, Rogue was happy. She knew if she could just concentrate hard enough on the memory she could fall asleep and maybe dream of him. Not until the morning would she face the truth, that she might never see him again, or how he would look at her if she did.
It was the fifth day and Logan was at wits end. For some reason he had narrowed his search to one particular trail. He wasn't sure why. It was just a feeling. He had told Marie to trust her instincts a long time ago. Now he was counting on his, while offering a small prayer that he wasn't losing his mind, that this feeling wasn't just some daydream he was telling himself.
He was off the trail and walking around the base of a rock face. He had passed this miniature cliff at least twenty times. There was nothing particularly special about it. It was covered with the usual grass, small plants and moss, with the occasional bare rock jutting out. This time as he walked he dragged his hand along the surface. This time as he walked he found an opening.
He froze in his tracks. Sure enough, as he pushed a deceptive carpet of leaves and moss aside, there was a human sized opening. It was a cave. A cave! One of those things Chuck had mentioned if a person was inside, they might not show up on the old, piece of crap, state of the art my ass, radar. He took out his lighter and slowly entered trying to tell himself to remain calm, if Marie was really hiding in here, certainly she would have come out at some point looking for food. He would have found her before now. But as the tunnel started to descend and not to mention widen, he found his hopes soaring again. Who knew how far this thing went. Perhaps there was another exit miles off someplace else.
He concentrated on finding Marie's scent. He thought he caught a slight whiff of her and his mind started screaming, she's alive, I am going to find her alive. Which is why he wasn't paying attention and why he was so surprised when he found himself being picked up and thrown through the air. As soon as he landed he realized what he had missed. There was another familiar smell in the air and Scott was going to kill him for not checking in.
Logan turned to face his nemesis as the blond animal man started shouting, "I have been watching you for days. Magneto wanted to let you be. Allow you to give up and leave on your own. You would have lived, but now you're mine."
Logan rose and claws extended growled, "I wouldn't count on it."
The fight barely lasted a minute, each man getting few blows in. Then as the fur clad monster hoisted a particularly large rock above his head, Logan heard a familiar voice screaming, "No!"
He couldn't stop himself. On instinct Logan turned his head to take in the sight he thought he would never see again. "Marie!" Whump! Everything faded to black.
Author: Gowdie
Category: Logan and Rogue romance. Just enough angst to get the story moving, a lot of laughter and eventually a happy ending. Hopefully like life!
Rating: PG13 for language and graphic fish death.
Archive: Please dear God, please let someone want this. Just please also let them send me a message so I can write a thank you note and visit.
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!
Thanks: To Kim and Diebin for both offering support and encouragement the second I mentioned the words "writing a story". To my real life friend Narla for listening to me ramble on and on about Logan and Rogue even though she doesn't get the pairing, proofing this story and most of all helping me hide the evidence of my latest addiction from my disapproving roommate. Now that is what real friends are for.
Author Notes: I am sorry this is so late, but weird stuff kept happening. Like Rogue, instead of just going where she was supposed to, kept having emotional moments along the way. And she had this bizarre story about fishing to tell. Then Scott, of all people, show up yesterday and started whispering about how fun a second scene with Logan would be. In the end, I actually have grown to love this part, when I started out hating it, so I think it was worth the wait.
Jell-O cake: white cake, poke holes with skewer, poor cherry jell-o down the holes, ice with whip cream. "The movie based on the book by that Canadian guy": Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat
Note to PETS: See see see! Isn't Scott so much more realized and responsibly used in this part?
Jean Grey was taking in a morning jog. She was still trying to clear her head from the previous nights events and a long hard run by the lake, in the cool spring air seemed like the best remedy.
After she had returned to the party, things had become even more bizarre. The second she walked in the door she was tackled and blindfolded. She had actually panicked, fearing the worst; the crazed teens wouldn't actually dare to bring a striper to the institute, would they? She was about to reach out with her mind searching for the scantily clad male presence when she found herself being spun around in dizzying circles. Then a piece of cardboard was thrust in her hand and she was dared to "pin the tail on the donkey." However when she was finally allowed to remove the blindfold the picture staring back at her was not something she would ever dream of describing as a "donkey" and the object she had pinned to the bulging pectoral was certainly not a "tail". After that, the rest of the night descended into a blurry haze of new linens, teacups, crotchless underwear and an incident involving a pink Jell-O cake.
When she finally came within sight of the lake Jean stopped short. Sitting on the grass covered bank was Rogue, alone. It was barely seven o'clock. Rogue was the last person she had expected to see on this particular morning. Jean wouldn't have been at all surprised if no one had heard from Logan or Rogue all day. She had assumed the couple would stay holed up in Logan's room, possibly emerging briefly at some point only long enough to gather provisions. It was still cold outside for crying out loud. Shouldn't the girl be snuggled under a down comforter, head nestled against a hairy chest with strong arms and legs wrapped around her, keeping her safe and warm, protected from the rest of the world?
Jean grinned at the obvious direction her thoughts were headed. Every woman was allowed the occasional fantasy, even those who were deeply in love with their ideal mate. At the same time, Rogue certainly was a very lucky girl. Or at least she should be a very lucky girl. The fact she was sitting alone was causing Jean to have serious doubts about exactly how lucky the girl had been the night before. Okay, clearly a delicate girl to girl chat was in order. She approached softly, "Rogue?"
Startled out of her contemplation Rogue jumped to her feet and faced the older woman. Jean again, just the person she wanted to see. Rogue loved Jean, but at this particular juncture in her life she really didn't understand why she had to be repeatedly bombarded with her presence. It almost seemed like the fates felt the need to constantly remind her of who she could never be. Trying to sound as neutral as possible she offered, "Hi. I'm sorry for leaving your party last night."
Jean gave a conspiratorial smile, "Trust me, that is okay. I was looking for an escape route myself. It got a little ... strange after a while."
Rogue blushed. "And I'm sorry for after. We had no right to be in there."
Jean touched the girl's arm, "Hey, as far as I am concerned the two of you have nothing to apologize for." Opportunity available, she decided to take the plunge. "I am a little surprised to find you out here this morning ... alone."
Rogue was still clinging to the hope that the exact nature of Logan's plan had somehow crept by the Doctor's notice. "Oh. I wanted to be by myself and I don't know where it came from, but I kinda felt this need inside to commune with the woods. So here I am, communing."
Jean pressed on. "I understand. Sometimes I feel the need to take a step back to regain perspective. See how I feel in the world, after ... some ... kind ... of big ... change."
Rogue's face scrunched up. Oh God, here we go again, she thought. "Change?" she squeaked.
The pained expression on Rogue's face revealed everything. After all this time the pair still hadn't reached an understanding. Concern flooding her voice, "Rogue, did Logan talk to you after you left my lab last night?"
Rogue turned to face the lake. "Oh we talked." Trying to dismiss the conversation, "He can get some pretty crazy ideas, you know?"
"I know." Focusing all of her attention on the younger woman in front of her, "Rogue, it might not be my place to say anything, but Logan..." She never had a chance to finish the sentence. Something hard and sharp struck her from behind and knocked her to the ground. The last thing she heard was Rogue's gasp.
Rogue turned to find her friend lying on the ground. Still standing on the unconscious woman's back was, of all the unexpected things, a rather large wolf. Her mind was screaming, but wolves aren't supposed to really attack people. I saw that movie, based on the book by that Canadian guy, god damn it! The wolf apparently had other ideas. She watched in horror as the animal started to pace in a circle around her. She slowly knelt to check Jean. Still alive. The grey frightening mass of fur and muscle, bared its teeth. A deep growl came from inside and then it barked. It lowered itself down on its hind legs, making its intentions known. It was going to attack. She had no where to go. No defenses to use. There was no guarantee she could reach the creatures skin before its claws and teeth made contact with her own flesh. She ripped off her gloves, she had no choice. Repeating to herself, "Just enough, I will only take enough," she touched Jean's face. She felt the pull flood her body and mind. The wolf seemed to wait a moment and then finally lunged. Rogue pointed her hand in the direction of the animal and together her mind and soul commanded "Stop."
The wolf froze mid-flight. Rogue stood and she and the animal regarded each other, neither seeming to know what to do next. Then the wolf cocked its head to the side and almost smiled. The girl could do nothing but watch as the creature slowly started to change form, slithering down until it stood on two legs; a blue woman with red hair and yellow eyes. Mystique approached her and Rogue instinctively backed away, leaving the side of her friend. She continued taking steps toward the trees, stumbling, as she watched the shape shifter bend and touch Jean's neck. The blue woman turned to look her directly in the eye, a smile dancing on her face. "How interesting," the monster purred, "she's dead."
Rogue ran.
Logan had spent another night in the woods. He had gone to a particularly dense part of the estate, on the opposite side of the mansion from the lake. He wanted to make sure he didn't run into anyone. Once again he spread himself on the ground and watched the stars, looking for answers. Though this time he had the sneaking suspicion the stars were mocking him. They stared back down at him and taunted, "Back again? Just how many nights do you have to spend out here till you get it right? We're just stars you know. There is only so much contemplation we can offer."
Holy shit, he had screwed up. He had actually walked around for a year, believing he had an established romantic relationship with Marie and she had no idea. She thought he loved her as what? A sister? A sister!
He rolled to his stomach, face down in the dirt and groaned. Okay, clearly the kid had lost her mind at some point, but hell, that was probably his fault to somehow. How was he going to fix this? Back to square one apparently. How to start? Asking her to dinner seemed like a good idea. Away from the institute for a change. Some place romantic, with candles for sure. Maybe a guy on a violin if he could find one. Though how he would survive the weirdness of a guy on a violin standing over them for longer than thirty seconds he didn't know.
There was still the problem of when. He was deeply worried if he waited too long Marie would only use the time to certify and cement her own ideas. At the same time if he approached her right away she might be defensive. She might not want to talk to him at all. He was torn between giving her a little space to regroup and completely suffocating her with affection. He had no idea which was the best route. He was going to have to ask someone; someone with experience dealing with a complicated woman. He was painfully starting to realize who that someone was going to have to be and all he could think was Scooter was going to laugh his ass off at the idea of the Wolverine coming to him for dating advice. Not in a hundred million years was he ever going to live this down.
It was then that he received the call inside his head from Charles. "By the lake. Something is wrong. Jean and Rogue."
Logan ran. He wasn't even conscious of the branches he swatted out of his way. His mind was simply repeating, not now, please God, not now.
When he finally reached the clearing he almost tripped as he took in the scene before him. Scott was already there, standing over Jean, who was almost grey, lifeless. His insides clenched as he watched the younger man slightly shaking his head, a single silent word repeating on his lips, "No." Finally Scott knelt beside his fiancé, placing his hand on her cheek. At first barely a whisper, "She's alive." Then almost an elated shout, "She's alive!"
The leader picked the woman up and held her securely against his chest. The two men looked at each other, each almost asking for permission, and came to a silent agreement. Scott would take his love back to the safety of the mansion. Logan would find Marie.
By the time Scott started walking, Logan was already following Marie's scent back into the trees. At first her path didn't make sense, winding back and forth erratically, clearly demonstrating her panicked state of mind. Then all of a sudden Logan realized he was following a straight path with an obvious destination. He started to feel helpless; if she made it he wouldn't be able to track her. Sure enough, when he reached the road, her scent completely disappeared. There was nothing he could do but go back.
When Logan returned to the mansion he found Scott just exiting the medical lab. He looked upset, but not devastated. Logan took that as a good sign. Before he could even open his mouth to ask about Jean, Scott was already addressing him. "I was coming up to help you. You didn't find Rogue?"
Logan shook his head. "I lost her scent by the road. She must have caught a ride."
Scott's brow creased, "Do you really think she would hitch a ride with just anyone?"
If he wasn't so worried Logan would have smiled at that. He answered wryly, "It's kind of how we met." Scott let out the tiniest huff of air that might have been a chuckle and shook his head. "You were coming out to ask about Rogue. Does that mean Jean is going to be okay?"
"Jean is going to be fine. She is still unconscious but she should be okay. Storm is watching over her while the Professor goes through some files." Scott leaned his back against the wall, took a deep breath and let out some the tension he had been holding in. "It seems she hit her head. There might be a slight concussion, but it is not too serious. The weird part is there is bruising and scratches on her back. It looks almost like an animal attack of some kind." He paused. He really wasn't sure how to brooch the next part with Logan. "And there is something else." He took a breath, "From just the bump on her head, she should have woken up by now. On a hunch we went through some of Jean's old data ... on you." Another pause. Finally he looked Logan in the eye. "The thing is, it looks almost like Rogue."
Scott just waited while the other man processed this information. Logan felt himself staring at the door of the med lab as he tried to put the pieces together. "If there was an animal, Marie would have needed a way to defend herself."
Scott nodded. "I understand. It was the right decision, but that doesn't explain why she ran to the road instead of back to us."
Logan chewed on the inside of his mouth, mind racing. "She was upset already and she really doesn't like to hurt anybody, let alone Chuck's favorite." And then realization dawned. He looked Scott directly in the eye. "When you first saw Jean, you thought she was dead."
Scott couldn't breathe, nausea burning up inside him at the awfulness of what Logan was suggesting. Barely a whisper, "Oh my God."
Logan felt a growl building up inside him, "I need to find her ... now."
"I'll come with you."
Logan started sucking in air erratically as his hand animatedly hovered in front of him, attempting to point at Scott, "No, you stay with Jean." Scott opened his mouth to argue but was cut off. "If there is some sort of animal around here, you and Storm should stay here anyway." A pause and an admission, "This is kind of my mess. I need to bring her back."
"He is right, considering all the circumstances, we need you here, Scott." Both men swung around, startled to find Professor Xavier had silently approached them. With wise, sympathetic eyes on Logan, "Rogue has proven herself to be a very resourceful girl in the past, I am sure she will be fine until you get to her. I will attempt to track her with Cerebro and I am sure the two of you will be home in no time."
Scott pulled himself up to his full height, stood directly in front of the larger man and pointed a finger in his chest. "You check in. If you get into any trouble, if something even smells suspicious you contact us first. I can be there in no time in the jet and I will back you. Do not play the hero and go in somewhere you shouldn't alone."
Logan raised an eyebrow and drawled, "Are you done Dad?"
Scott thought for a moment. Adamantly, "You check in!"
Rogue was trying not to panic.
Her instincts had told her to run and run she had. If she had been thinking, she wouldn't have believed her luck when a truck happened by almost the second after she had reached the road. As it was she just blindly started hopping up and down waving her arms frantically until it stopped and climbed in and stuttered "North?" The man nodded, she buckled in and off they went. They had sat in an odd silence for the first few minutes. Rogue could feel the burly, flannel and jeans clad driver glancing at her, expecting her to say something, anything, but her brain had completely shut down and she certainly wasn't capable of small talk.
Finally the man had broke, removed the cigar from his mouth and asked, "Look kid, are you in some kinda trouble?" At that she started to cry, huge gasping sobs that shook her whole body. And so they continued to drive, Rogue doubled over and bawling into her knees, and the driver uncomfortably shifting in his seat, chewing on his cigar and tightly gripping the wheel. After about an hour he pulled over at a rest stop. Rogue had started pulling herself together and just stared straight ahead at the tiny parking lot, remembering to breathe. He turned in his seat to face her. "I'm real sorry kid, but this town is where I drop off my load and then turn south again." He watched her for a moment. "Do you need me to call anybody? Your parents? Maybe the police?"
Rogue couldn't keep in a small snort at that comment. She shook her head and turned to face him for the first time. She gave her very best reassuring smile and said, "No, it's ... it's nothing like that. I'm sorry for acting so strange, I just needed to get away." She unbuckled herself and opened the door. As she hopped down she added, "Thanks for the ride."
Before she could close the door the man leaned across the seat and held it open. "Hey kid, you gonna be alright?" Breathe, just breathe. He's fifty years old and has way to big a beer belly to remind you of anyone important. "I feel kinda weird just leaving you here like this."
"I'll be fine." She forced a huge grin and added in as worldly a tone as she could muster, "This isn't exactly my first time on the road." The man looked a little relieved, nodded, closed the door and finally drove off leaving a cloud of dust and gravel in his wake.
Rogue sighed and hauled herself over to the picnic table to wait for her next ride. She didn't have to wait long. A little blue hatchback pulled up. Rogue watched as a forty-something woman with blonde shoulder length hair, dressed in weekend wear and not possessing a single characteristic that would cause any painful memory associations, emerged and headed to the back of the building where the washrooms were located. It seemed like forever until she reappeared. Rogue had just worked up some courage when the woman suddenly turned and went in the little store. Damn it. She watched anxiously through the glass as the intended target took forever picking out some snacks. Finally the bell on the door jangled and the blonde was headed back to her car. Rogue sat up straight and looked at the woman directly until she caught her eye. Eye contact achieved, Rogue was about to jump from her perch on the table but instead ended up staring open mouthed as the woman approached her instead. A beautifully warm smile, "Hey hon, I'm Nancy, you need a ride?"
Rogue had eagerly accepted of course and that was how she ended up sitting in a comfortable car, listening to easy rock and having some time to stop and think. That was when the panic started to set in. She was overwhelmed with the realization she had no idea what she had gotten herself into. She had run with nothing. No cash, no i.d. and no clothes except the jeans, t-shirt and windbreaker she was wearing. She was a freaking idiot. The last time she had at least had a route in mind, not to mention a bag and some money. Okay, so she had completely run out of cash and was practically starving by the time Logan found her, but at least she had started out right.
Logan. By now he would know. By now he was hating her. No, she could give him more credit than that, for the moment he was probably torn. But soon, very soon, bitterness at what she had taken would set in and he would never forgive her. It was weird, she could hear Jean's voice in her head, telling her to go back, that Scott, the Professor, even Logan would understand, but Rogue knew better. Since the moment she had touched her, Rogue had been focusing at least half her energy shutting out everything that was Jean. The last thing she wanted was a dead woman's thoughts haunting her, especially when said dead woman was telling her such sweet lies. She could never see Logan, or Scott or the Professor ever again, that was the end of it.
Hey, her practical side rallied, stop wasting time thinking about that. We are busy concentrating on what a moron you are. Right. Moron. No cash, no i.d., no breakfast for Christ's sake. Well, too late for regrets. She couldn't very well go back and say, "Um, don't mind me. Just came back to get a few things and then let's try this again." She was just going to have to deal.
Suddenly Nancy's voice intruded on her thoughts. "Hey hon, where are you headed anyway?"
Rogue thought for a moment. "Well, I was planning on crossing into Canada, but I've just kind of realized I forgot my i.d.. I don't know how I'm going to get across the boarder."
"You just stick with me." Nancy gave her another beautiful smile. "I'm going up to my cottage in the Ottawa valley. With this car packed with only outdoor clothes and a cooler we don't look too threatening. I go across all the time. If you look like a family they don't pay too much attention to you. If they ask, you're my daughter, they probably won't even ask for your name, let alone any identification."
"Are you sure? I really don't want to get you in any trouble."
"Trouble?" Nancy chuckled. "Trust me, we will be crossing in the middle of a Saturday. The only time they would hassle a couple of nice mother/daughter looking women like us is when they are bored out of their skulls at five in the morning." Rogue relaxed a little. "You hungry? I picked up some food back there. It's in the bag I put in the back seat." Rogue hoped her face didn't show the slight joy she felt at the mention of food but it must have, cause Nancy took one look at her and laughed again. "Go on, I can see you are practically starving."
Rogue found the bag and sorted through the contents. She asked Nancy if she wanted anything but she merely shook her head and said she was fine for the moment. Rogue immediately started sucking back the apple juice drink box she found. It felt really good, she hadn't even noticed with everything else going on in her head, but she was seriously dehydrated. Next she unwrapped and devoured the sandwich. Chicken salad, she thought, a serious step up from beef jerky. No, her brain chastised again, no Logan, just eat.
By the time she finished she was relaxed to the point she was starting to feel dozy. She shifted and slumped down in her seat. Nancy must have noticed her drooping eyelids because she said, "Oh Sweetie, you just nap if you want to. You look like you could use a break. I'll wake you when we get to the boarder." Rogue felt herself smile and mutter a thanks just before she drifted off.
Logan had just finished packing the jeep when he heard the completely unexpected offer behind him. "You can take the bike. It's a lot faster ... as you well know."
Logan took a moment to eye Scott and then slammed the back door. "Thanks, but I think this will be easier to throw her into and strap her down." A mutter as he fidgeted with his gloves, "And then give her a good talking to on the ride back."
Scott frowned a little at the last comment but decided to ignore it. "You've got a line on Rogue?"
Logan started patting his pockets looking for a cigar. "Yeah, the Professor located her headed toward the border with some housewife. She looks safe for the moment."
"North again?"
A small huff. "Old habits really do die hard I guess." Cigar located he put it in his mouth and began the search for his lighter. "When I run I go north. When Marie ran before she went north. Put the two of us together in one head, what other direction are you going to come up with?" He looked back at the other man, he couldn't believe how calm he was. "Jeanie is really going to be okay?"
Scott smiled a little and nodded. "She is going to be fine. She is still unconscious. We just have to wait for her to gain her own energy back on her own time, but she is going to be perfectly fine. Please make sure to tell Rogue that," a pause, "and that I understand."
Logan gave up on the lighter and sighed. "Oh I'm thinking the first words out of my mouth are going to be 'Jean's alive!' followed quickly by, 'and no one is mad at you.'" He rubbed his face with his hands. "Then I get to start my very own chant of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'"
Scott frowned, confused. "I have no response to that."
Logan snorted. "Oh I know how you feel."
Scott looked at his feet, unsure if he should ask the next question, but it did seem Logan was providing an unprecedented opening. Maybe he really did want to talk ... to him. "Logan, what, what did you mean when you said this was your mess?"
This was going to be painful, but it was what he had been fishing for. He leaned forward and looked directly at Scott. "Marie ... doesn't ... know."
In earnest, "Doesn't know what?"
Oh come on, was the weenie actually going to make this hard? Logan huffed as his eyes shifted around the room. "She doesn't know," a very painful moment of silence, "that I love her."
Scott's mouth fell open; he couldn't help it. He started stuttering in disbelief, "How can she not know? I know. I'm a guy, we never know. Jean didn't even have to tell me or anything."
Logan's eyes narrowed at the implications regarding his unmanly behavior and snapped, "Thanks."
Scott still couldn't stop. "But how could she not know? Everybody knows!"
Logan spread his arms and smirked, "Well apparently I'm the world's biggest asshole."
Scott finally stopped for a moment and assessed the situation. Considering their relationship was pretty much grounded in torment he couldn't let this one go without some comment. Logan would certainly return the favour at some point later on. "Wow. That really sucks."
"Oh I know it." Logan had a vague idea of what was coming, but if he really wanted Scott's advice he was just going to have to suffer through the harassment first. He would have done the same if their positions were reversed.
"But it is kind of amusing when you think about it. The hairy animal surprises us all by finally settling down and falling desperately for the slip of a girl who adores him, and the girl, doesn't even realize..."
Logan gaped. "What?"
"Well you know, she adored you since the whole touching thing, and we were all worried you were going to be stupid and break her heart and were thrilled when you came to your senses..."
"No!" The cigar was waving in the air. "I mean, what did you call her?"
Scott shrugged. "Slip of a girl? It means lithe, delicate."
Logan's eyes narrowed in disbelief. While shaking his head, "Have you ever met Marie?"
"You don't think she's delicate?"
"She could kick your ass, Summers!" Both men chuckled at the truth in that statement. There was a reason you don't tick off any of the women in the X-Men. Logan sighed as he remembered exactly what mission he was embarking on. "So Scooter, any advice?"
Scott crossed his arms, genuinely confused by this complex problem. "I don't know. I could talk to her."
"Yeah, and that's not embarrassing as hell."
"You could try touching her again. Then she will know without a doubt."
"Don't you think that's a bit of a desperate measure?"
Scott flailed his arms in exasperation. "Well Logan, what other choice do you have. I mean, I have watched you do everything else short of flowers and candy. I would say make love to her, but I assumed you would have found a way to do that a long time ago."
Logan turned and rested his aching head on the metal vehicle. This was embarrassing in the extreme. "I tried suggesting that last night and she freaked." A full body sigh. "I think she thought it was some sort of act of pity or something."
Scott took a few slow steps forward and leaned with his back against the jeep beside his friend. "Tell her you love her." Logan's head turned, his eyes clearly telling him he had done that. "Tell her again. If she doesn't believe you tell her again and again. How would you feel if you lost her?"
Logan closed his eyes. "Like dying. She's my world."
Scott smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Tell her that, no woman can resist that."
When Rogue woke up from her "nap" she was very confused. She may have tried convincing herself it was all a dream, some volatile reaction to spiked bridal shower punch, except she realized immediately she was still wearing her noisy windbreaker and the hard surface she was lying on certainly wasn't her bed. No, it was a very cold floor. Her head was pounding like it was splitting open. She felt hung over, but that didn't make any sense. Maybe she felt, she felt ... drugged.
Drugged! That thought sent her immediately to her feet, despite how dizzy she was and how much her body ached. She was in a room by herself. A very dark room. It looked like an office, complete with a desk, but unlike anything she had seen before, the walls were a mix of rock and steel. Steel. Oh God, not again. Just as the last horrifying pieces fell into place she heard Eric's unmistakable voice behind her. "Oh good, you're up. I was beginning to worry Mystique may have overestimated your body weight and you would be out for days."
Rogue turned to see Eric smiling calmly from the doorway with Nancy holding a tray of food behind him. She looked at her new "friend" and drawled, "We meet again. For the third time today isn't it?" Nancy just gave another beautiful smile and slowly started to change. When the other woman stood in her full tall blue glory Rogue turned her attention back to Eric and accused, "So I suppose this means there is some poor dead woman waiting to be found in a rest stop bathroom somewhere in New York state?"
Eric's eyes glinted in amusement at her confidence in addressing him. "No, of course not. My Mystique assures me she only knocked her a little unconscious. Just enough to get the job done."
Rogue tried to sound casual. "Well it certainly is a more subtle approach than the last time."
Eric almost looked sympathetic. "I didn't want you to be afraid Rogue. I knew you wouldn't seek me out of your own free will, so I needed to devise a way to make sure you found your way here."
Might as well be direct. "What am I doing here?"
"Getting warm. Eating a hot meal." He gestured to the shape shifter who moved forward and placed the tray on the desk. "Having a conversation."
Rogue eyed the food suspiciously. "You aren't planning on killing me? You don't want to put me in that machine again?"
"No child. The last thing I want is to bring you harm." He crossed to his side of the desk and sat down. He gestured again to Mystique and the woman silently almost glided from the room.
Rogue watched the departing figure. "You'll understand if I have a little trouble believing you?"
"I suppose that is the natural reaction considering our history." He nodded towards the front of the desk and added, "Why don't you have a seat?"
Rogue considered her options and then resignedly took her place opposite him. She crossed her arms in front of her. "What kind of conversation?"
Eric leaned forward. "I understand your power allowed you to see into my mind. You know I am not the devil."
Rogue crossed her legs and swung her foot, attempting to look unimpressed. "I know you do the things you do because you're scared."
"I am scared. Do you understand what it is that I am afraid of?"
She narrowed her eyes and with a smug grin declared, "That all human beings are no better than Nazis."
"How insightful." A pause. "You, a girl who can kill with a simple touch. You could very well be the most dangerous weapon in the world." His tone became a little more harsh. "Do you really believe that humans, knowing what you are capable of, would be brave enough to let you live? Even other mutants fear you."
Rogue froze. That comment cut inside her. "Mutants understand I never want to hurt anybody."
"Do they? After the demonstration you gave this morning?" He paused, letting his words sink in. "But I understand you. We are very similar you and I."
"Similar?" she spat. "You want a war!"
Eric sighed, "Perhaps you don't understand all the images in your head. I don't want a war child, I am prepared for its inevitability. It may be subtle, but it is an important distinction." He placed his hand on the desk, index finger pointed towards her. "We are similar because we understand that sometimes sacrifices need to be made."
Rogue was growing tired of this conversation. "Like you were going to sacrifice me?"
"Yes. But that was a mistake. I was lacking foresight at the time. Do you have any idea how powerful you are? What potential you have?"
Rogue lowered her voice, seeing the simple truth. "You want to use me."
Eric sat back in his chair. "When the time comes I want you to be on my side yes. You will also come to want that eventually."
Rogue craned her neck forward to emphasize her point, "But I'M not going to sacrifice anyone."
"You already have," he stated flatly. In a casual tone, "It was the right choice. There is no shame in your actions. You believed if you acted otherwise you would have both died. That is the point; survival is key. Your instinct to survive is strong enough to overcome your moral quandaries, strong enough to fight." He stopped as he saw her eyes widen at his comments about her. He didn't want to scare her off. He wanted to gain her trust. "That will come in time. For now I offer you refuge. I don't believe you will find it anywhere else. Charles is a remarkably forgiving man, but you have killed his favorite. Stay with us for a while. You will have a warm bed, food to eat and I am sure you will find our company more hospitable than the trucker willing to give you a ride. Most importantly I will not judge you. If you decide it is tolerable, stay on. If you don't you are free to go. Since you don't really have a destination you can't be in any hurry to run to nowhere."
Rogue didn't know what to do. She was a little afraid how his attitude would change if she actually did try to leave. At the same time she knew from having him in her head, Eric was not a truly evil man. He didn't kill indiscriminately. She didn't believe he would hurt her without reason. If she let him believe she was considering his offer of joining the Brotherhood she would be safe here for a while, as long as he understood, "I don't want to fight my friends."
Eric steepled his fingers under his chin and agreed, "Neither do I child, neither do I."
Logan was desperately trying to remain calm, but it wasn't going to well. It had been three days. Worse Marie had dropped off the Cerebro radar sometime in the middle of the first night. No one was sure what had happened. The most Charles had been able to tell him was the last time he checked she was still with the same woman, on a dirt road near a small town about an hour south west of Ottawa. "Great," Logan had growled, "cottage country." That ain't like finding a pine needle in a god damned forest.
If Charles had told him one more time not to panic Logan was sure he was going to smash something. Charles assured him again and again that they didn't yet know all the limitations of Cerebro. Perhaps if she was in a particularly dense part of the woods, or even a cave they wouldn't be able to locate her. Or at the bottom of a lake, Logan had silently added. He refrained from asking the one question that sat in the bottom of his stomach; what happened when a person died? Did they show up on the radar then?
Scott had once again offered to join him. Logan turned him down, telling him this was his specialty. Tracking someone was what he was built for after all. "Don't let your pride get in the way of accepting help Logan," Scott had warned.
Logan responded flatly, "Right now I don't have any pride left Summers." He remade his promise to call if he found anything that looked dangerous.
The second day had been spent breaking into all the deserted cottages along the dirt road Charles had indicated. Perhaps Marie had found her way in and decided to stay somewhere warm and dry. Of course he found nothing. The last day he started combing the woods. The one break he had been given was at least the road in question had a dead end. That narrowed his search to the one particular area. One particular area that happened to be about five square miles of trees.
Logan thought of Scott's offer again as he found yet another hunting trail. No, he wanted to do this on his own. He was starting to realize he just wanted to be alone when he found the body. Then it would be a lot easier to disappear himself.
Rogue was in her tiny bed in her bare room, wide awake. She could not sleep well here. She was used to the warmth and smell of the old, rich wood and the comforting glow it created in the lamplight. In her room at the school she had always felt cozy and safe. In this room she could not deny the fact she was in a cave. Oh it was a cave with all the modern conveniences and the granite walls were covered in steel, but it was nonetheless a big cold rock that surrounded her. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't close her eyes and escape where she was and exactly what she had done.
During the day she was pretty much supervised. They left her alone but there was always someone around. Eric had specifically asked her to remain inside, they wouldn't want her to get lost. Right, lost. The last two days had seemed particularly odd. Twice she had walked in on the large man known as Sabertooth and Eric talking quietly, they stopped when they saw her approach. Everyone seemed tense. She was worried she might have to face a confrontation about her loyalties earlier than she had anticipated. At night though, she was left on her own in the frigid silence. She would curl up under her blanket and search her mind for one perfect memory to attempt to hide in. This night it was fishing.
Rogue wasn't exactly sure why Logan had insisted on teaching her how to fish. She suspected it might have something to do with the skating debacle of the previous winter. She had made him do something he considered girly and he had fallen on his ass right in front of Scott and Jean. Still on his back he glared up into Scott's smiling face and simply growled, "Not one word One Eye." As she picked him up and dusted him off he watched Scott and Jean gracefully glide away and grumbled, "Am I supposed to be impressed that the pansy can skate? Just makes him look even more faggotty if you ask me." She glared at him and made an observation she had kept to herself for a long time; he and Scott took far too much joy out of tormenting each other for their hatred to be sincere. They acted more like teenage brothers than real rivals. He tugged on her arm, took a few tentative slides and told her he had no idea what she was talking about.
Yes, fishing was definitely revenge. Logan wanted to make her do something manly, complete with a rusty tin can of slimy worms. What he didn't know was she had no intention of allowing him the satisfaction of watching her squirm. She plopped down beside him on the end of the dock, stuck her gardening gloved hand in the can, snagged a worm and impaled it on her hook without a moment's hesitation. She turned a triumphant smile on him and pertly asked, "Now what?"
He shook his head and chuckled a little. "You certainly are something kid."
She arched an eyebrow and teasingly inquired, "Something good?"
"Yeah, something good. Come here kid." He put his own pole down and shifted over till he was right beside her, his hip pressed against hers. He leaned back and put his arm around her, covering her hand on the pole with his. Together they reached back and then flung the pole forward, his thumb pressing down on hers over the button at the right moment. The worm sailed into the middle of the lake.
So much for revenge. She loved the entire interlude. The sky was clouded and the dock was wet from the early morning rain, but the lake was absolutely still and peaceful. Perfect conditions for fishing, he told her. They chatted quietly and ate the sandwiches she had made. She even enjoyed how his cigar smelled mixed with the scent of rain and the musty old wood of the dock.
At the end of the day she had caught four fish and he hadn't reeled in anything aside from the occasional clump of seaweed. She had to gloat a little. As they walked up the path she carried the fish dangling from the chain at eye level and inspected them as they wiggled around. "You know, when I first caught it I thought number four was bigger than number three, but now I'm thinking it's really number three that's bigger." He just looked at her with his eyes narrowed, nose crinkled and his lips kind of pursed She knew he wasn't really mad. Logan was never really mad on these occasions which is why she knew it was safe to tease and he would always obligingly pretend to be grumpy. It was a routine they both enjoyed.
When they got to the kitchen he gestured to the sink and said, "Well, there you go." She just stared at him in confusion. He looked at her pointedly, "The rule is Marie, you catch em, you clean em."
She took on an unimpressed pose, one arm crossed in front of her, the other holding the fish up at shoulder level, swinging casually to the side. "Unless you seriously intend for me to give these fish a bath, I suggest that you, oh great fishing guru, ought to do whatever cleaning it is you have in mind."
He heaved a great sigh to demonstrate exactly how put out he was, snatched to fish from her and plopped them unceremoniously in the sink. He routed around in a drawer and produced a long slender knife which he began to sharpen. He noticed her standing there, mouth opening and closing the way it does when she has a question she isn't sure how to ask. "What?"
"You ... I mean I thought ... um..." She shifted on her feet and kind of pointed at his hands. "You aren't going to use," her hand flapped a little, "your claws?"
His nose wrinkled and he looked at the fish somewhat disgustedly. "This is fish guts. I don't want smelly fish guts on my claws."
More hand flapping and shifting. "But you stab people with them."
"When I have to. And people don't smell like fish guts." She kind of snorted. Feeling the need to defend himself he continued, "Look if I was lost in the woods, knifeless and hungry I would happily skin a fish with my claws. As it is we are in a civilized environment as you keep reminding me."
She smiled. "Watch it Logan, or people are going to think I've tamed you or something."
He muttered down to the knife, "Well they wouldn't be wrong."
As he continued preparations, finding some newspaper and a cutting bored, she stared down at the fish as they flopped helplessly in the sink. She was starting to feel pangs of guilt. Finally ready, Logan picked up the first fish, unhooked it from the chain and placed it on the bored. Knife posed in the air he hesitated and turned to her. "Are you sure you want to watch?"
Looking not at him but at the fish waiting on the bored she answered, "I kind of feel like I owe it to the fish." A pause. "Maybe it's silly, but I'm the reason they're dying, I feel like I should at least observe their death or something."
A moment passed and he nodded. Then he turned his attention back to the fish and pressed the knife down hard. He leaned his weight into the effort and with a crunch the head was removed from the body. As he pulled the head away some organs came with it and he tossed the waste on the newspaper. There was some blood, but not as much as she had thought there would be. He turned the fish upright and carefully cut along one side of the spine and then the other, separating meat from bone. Finally he held one half of the remainder and ran the knife between the flesh and the skin, leaving a perfect white filet. She was oddly fascinated. She had never watched anything aside from an insect die. She felt different, less innocent.
He cleaned up the newspaper, put the bored and knife into the sink to soak and washed his hands in the hot soapy water. As he placed the fish into a baggy he eyed her and asked, "So, do you want to cook these up for dinner tonight?"
"Maybe tomorrow?" she answered softly.
"Okay." He smiled a bit as he tossed the bag of filets into the freezer. He walked over to her and enveloped her in a deep hug. "You did good kid. You did real good."
She wrapped her arms around him and spoke into his chest. "Logan, I like fishing with you, but I absolutely draw the line at hunting. I can handle the fish death, but I am not watching you do that to Bambi."
He chuckled and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. "Okay kid, you got a deal, but then I don't want to see you coming anywhere near me with a pair of roller blades or other fandangled contraption."
For a moment, in her bed in the cave, Rogue was happy. She knew if she could just concentrate hard enough on the memory she could fall asleep and maybe dream of him. Not until the morning would she face the truth, that she might never see him again, or how he would look at her if she did.
It was the fifth day and Logan was at wits end. For some reason he had narrowed his search to one particular trail. He wasn't sure why. It was just a feeling. He had told Marie to trust her instincts a long time ago. Now he was counting on his, while offering a small prayer that he wasn't losing his mind, that this feeling wasn't just some daydream he was telling himself.
He was off the trail and walking around the base of a rock face. He had passed this miniature cliff at least twenty times. There was nothing particularly special about it. It was covered with the usual grass, small plants and moss, with the occasional bare rock jutting out. This time as he walked he dragged his hand along the surface. This time as he walked he found an opening.
He froze in his tracks. Sure enough, as he pushed a deceptive carpet of leaves and moss aside, there was a human sized opening. It was a cave. A cave! One of those things Chuck had mentioned if a person was inside, they might not show up on the old, piece of crap, state of the art my ass, radar. He took out his lighter and slowly entered trying to tell himself to remain calm, if Marie was really hiding in here, certainly she would have come out at some point looking for food. He would have found her before now. But as the tunnel started to descend and not to mention widen, he found his hopes soaring again. Who knew how far this thing went. Perhaps there was another exit miles off someplace else.
He concentrated on finding Marie's scent. He thought he caught a slight whiff of her and his mind started screaming, she's alive, I am going to find her alive. Which is why he wasn't paying attention and why he was so surprised when he found himself being picked up and thrown through the air. As soon as he landed he realized what he had missed. There was another familiar smell in the air and Scott was going to kill him for not checking in.
Logan turned to face his nemesis as the blond animal man started shouting, "I have been watching you for days. Magneto wanted to let you be. Allow you to give up and leave on your own. You would have lived, but now you're mine."
Logan rose and claws extended growled, "I wouldn't count on it."
The fight barely lasted a minute, each man getting few blows in. Then as the fur clad monster hoisted a particularly large rock above his head, Logan heard a familiar voice screaming, "No!"
He couldn't stop himself. On instinct Logan turned his head to take in the sight he thought he would never see again. "Marie!" Whump! Everything faded to black.