Disclaimer: Anyone or anything you recognize the name from a Marvel comic book, does not belong to me. I have no money, sue if you want you can't get blood from a stone. Any likeness of people you recognize, I may know them as well and they know I have no money and they can't get anything from me.
A Quiet Rainy Weekend; Part 4
By
NoHaven
Deep in upstate New York off the main highway, away from the major roads on a scarcely traveled road near a small mountain a battered old jeep is parked on the side of the road. Its owner has decided to take a hike, literally up the mountain. Dressed only in a pair of old jeans and a pair of boots Logan charges hard up the mountain, paying no attention to the rain or the mud, which has turned his faded blue jeans a shade of brown. He is letting the animal inside guide him, following the scent train of some deer, he moves quickly and quietly between trees and undergrowth, he races. This is how he was meant to live his life, by the rules of nature, not by the rules of mankind. Reaching the end of the tree line he is confronted by a large sheer rock face. Snikt Three metallic claws spring from each hand, he plunges them into the rock face and begins scaling the cliff.
With movements that seem effortless he plunges one set of claws into the cliff side after another, moving upwards and adjusting his angles to find the least resistant path to the top. If there were any onlookers present they would be witnessing a feat many would believe impossible. The ease and speed that he was scaling the cliff, without safety equipment, in the rain was awe-inspiring. Within a half hour he had reached the top, instead of being filled with joy for the feat he had just performed, Logan simply sat down on a nearby rock; he is lost in thought almost immediately.
His mind raced. It didn't matter what had caused last night to happen. He could blame the beer, he could tell himself that he had taken advantage of her; he could even tell himself that it had been her idea. None of that changed the fact that it had occurred. Should he return? Go back to mansion and listen to her break his heart again, or should he stay here, in the wilderness where no one would judge him. No one would judge him except himself, and he couldn't live with the idea of hurting Jean by doing something so selfish as never going back. He needed to face her, to gaze at her beauty, more than anything else he needed to talk to his closest friend. What could he say to her? How could he say it? How could he face Scott, they had never been best friends, but their was a mutual respect between the two, and he undoubtedly violated the trust the two had struggled for so long to build. He sat perched on the rock rain cascading over his body, he stared out over the valley. Suddenly he rose and headed to a small path for hikers, the path went down the mountain, and he went with the path.
---
Xavier's mansion, Jean sat in the rec-room continuing her vigil of the driveway, curled up on the couch she rested her chin on her left arm which rested on the back of large overstuffed couch. She wore a pair of Adidas warm-up pants, and a T-shirt with the emblem of Xavier's on the chest. She looked out upon the front of the campus, at the puddles that had formed, how each ensuing raindrop affected the puddle changing its surface, its shape. She saw how the sky still refused to relent its assault of rain. Somehow the entire environment struck her as fitting, it was dark, drab and damp outside. In her thoughts she felt dark and drab, angry and mournful over Logan leaving. She would give anything to see his jeep speed up the driveway, as the day wore on, she doubted that it would happen.
She wondered if he would return at all. Logan had always been a man of principle, a man who lived by his own code of conduct; she was worried if he felt he violated that code. Jean wondered what she could say to him, she knew what he would love to hear her say, THOSE three words. But she didn't know if she could say them with full honesty behind them. Equally troubling was the thought that she may be able to say them, and if so, what could she tell Scott. Scott, she had loved him all her life, and even now it pained her not knowing where he was, knowing he was trapped with that monster. She knew no matter what, Scott would be hurt by what she had done; she would never be able to rationalize what she had done to him. She also knew that Logan was agonizing over this very thing himself. She knew she was caught between a rock and a hard place, that everyone involved would be hurt in some way, but she knew she didn't want to lose either of the two.
---
New York City
In central park Rouge walked slowly down the paths of the park, she was making her way back to the hotel where Piotr was, the Four Seasons. She still hadn't decided fully what she would say to him. More than anything she wanted to hear what he had to say, she was positive that he would have an opinion as to what she had done, and she wanted to hear him say something about it.
High above on the balcony of his hotel room Piotr took in the beauty of the city. He wished Rouge would return. He knew that she was confused and he had his doubts about her feelings for him. Nonetheless he wanted to see her; he just wanted to see her. To see her green eyes, her smile…he hoped she would say to him what he wanted her to, what she knew he would say to her, but just setting sight on her would be enough.
---
Salem Center
It was late at Xavier's school Jean had fallen asleep long ago, sitting in an overstuffed chair in the back of the mansion looking out onto the Lake. The Professor had covered her with a blanket before retiring to bed himself. Shaking his head as he left.
Jean was jolted to reality by a clap of thunder; she started to stand when she noticed she was not alone in the room anymore, he had come back. A small window off to her right was open; she could hear the rain outside. Looking towards the window as a flash of lightning lit the room, she saw him. Perched in the windowsill was the frame of a man she could never forget, his broad shoulders his thick frame.
"Hiya Darlin." He said simply.
"Hi Logan." She said with a smile.
"Think we should have that talk now. Care to join me on the dock." He said grimly.
"Why outside in all this? Why not here?" Jean asked.
"What I say, I want to be between you and me, and this place has too many ears, even if the Prof is asleep." He said in a dour tone.
"Alright, just let me grab a coat." Jean replied, noticing that Logan was soaked, barefoot, and his Jeans were caked with mud.
"Meet ya down there." Logan stated, as a flash of lighting lit the room again, and like that he was gone, off into the storm.
Let me know what you think. I'm starting to realize where I am going with this. I think it will be wrapping up soon.
Enjoy everyone.