She never mentions the word addiction
In certain company
Yes, she'll tell you she's an orphan
After you meet her family
She paints her eyes as black as night, now
Pulls those shades down tight
Yeah, she gives a smile when the pain comes,
The pain's gonna make everything alright
Says she talks to angels,
They call her out by her name
She talks to angels,
Says they call her out by her name
She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket
She wears a cross around her neck
Yes, the hair is from a little boy
And the cross is someone she has not met, not yet
Says she talks to angels,
Says they all know her name
Oh yeah, she talks to angels,
Says they call her out by her name
She don't know no lover,
None that I ever seen
Yes, to her that ain't nothing
But to me, yeah me,
It's everything
She paints her eyes as black as night now
She pulls those shades down tight
Oh yeah, there's a smile when the pain comes,
The pain's gonna make everything alright, alright yeah
She talks to angels,
Says they call her out by her name
Oh yeah, yeah, angels
Call her out by her name
Oh, angels
They call her out by her name
Oh, she talks to angels
They call her out
Yeah, they call her out
Don't you know that they call her out by her name
Logan arrived at the mansion, parking her Land Cruiser between Scott's dorkmobile compact and Remy's latest bright red sports car. She grabbed her small duffle bag out of the rear and headed for the kitchen entrance. As she was about to push the door inwards she smelled someone approaching from behind. Logan turned slightly.
"Hi, Cajun."
"Hey dere," said Remy, stepping from the shadows. "How was th' trip?"
"Same as always."
"Dat's nice. Uh, Logan?"
"What?"
"I…uh…" Remy ran a hand through his floppy hair. "I don' t'ink you should go in dere."
"In where?"
"De mansion."
"And why is this, exactly? Scott and Jean turn it into a yuppie-filled day spa?"
"Non…it be worse den dat, chère."
"Really? Now this I gotta see…" Logan again started to open the kitchen door.
"NON!"
"For Chrissake, Remy, what's the matter with you?" Remy inserted himself between Logan and the door.
"Chère, jus' trust me on dis one, okay? Mebbe you got to de Inn for de night, come back tomorrow, oui?"
"I don't have any clean underwear."
"Umm…I give you money t'buy more. Jus' stay away from here." Logan pretended to think it over, then gave Remy a hard shove with her hip and darted inside as he stumbled. Once she entered the kitchen she stopped dead. She sniffed once, twice, her delicate nostrils flaring.
SNIKT!
She whirled to face Remy. "Where is he?!"
"Chère…" Logan let out an enraged growl and made a beeline for the lower levels of the mansion. Remy sighed and hit the comm. by the kitchen door. "It's me. Logan jus' got back. Yeah, I know. I be right dere." He released the switch and sighed again, knowing he would find nothing but an ugly scene when he reached the holding cells.
Logan stormed into the lower levels of the mansion, hell-bent on making her way to the brig.
"Logan, just calm down…"
Logan froze, her blue eyes narrowing. "Outta my way, red. Something tells me Scott wouldn't take too kindly to me gutting his wife."
Jean's eyes grew a little wide. "There's no need for violence…"
"What is he doing here?"
"It's complicated…"
Logan pushed Jean to the side. "Then let me get rid of your little complication."
"Logan!"
Jean tried to run after her, but the other woman was already to the brig before she could stop her.
Logan came to a stop before the glowing red force field that marked the first holding cell. The figure inside was mostly shadowed, but there was no mistaking who it was. Logan spat the word at him.
"Creed."
Victor Creed's mouth formed an almost-psychotic grin. "Hello, runt. Long time no see."
"Not long enough."
"I was wonderin' when you were gonna get back from your latest little escapade. Where was it this time, Logan? Romantic getaway in the Canadian Rockies with some guy you probably won't recognize a week from now?"
"Fuck you, Creed."
Victor just smiled. "You kept me waitin' too long, frail. I've been here two weeks already and I haven't seen yer hide in here once."
Logan's eyes grew a little wide at that. Two weeks and no one had said a thing to her. She'd have to yell at someone for that. Probably Remy. He was supposed to be the one that told her what everyone else was hiding from her…
At that moment Remy came barreling around the corner, followed by Cyclops and Xavier, as well as a cadre of other curious mansion dwellers. Remy's shoulders slumped with relief when he saw that both parties were still on their respective sides of the force field and no blood had been shed.
"Welcome home, Logan," said Xavier gently.
"What the hell is this?!" Logan exploded, pointing an angry finger at Victor.
"That is Sabretooth, Logan."
"No shit, Sherlock! What's he doing here?" Scott stepped to the professor's shoulder.
"Sabretooth was badly wounded by Phoenix during a battle a few weeks ago, and he was brought back to the mansion."
Logan's thin black eyebrow went up. "Since when have you people taken in the enemy like this was a fucking B&B?"
"Sabretooth has assured us he has a desire to be rehabilitated," said Xavier in the same soothing tone. "I scanned his mind upon his incarceration and found that he is being truthful. The holding cell is merely a safety measure until I can help him control his bloodlust."
"Sure," said Logan. "And Toronto will play a hockey game in Hell."
"Don't believe me, runt?" Victor rumbled from just over her shoulder. Logan took a disdainful step away.
"You are all idiots," she said succinctly, and stormed back the way she had come. The curious onlookers parted quickly before her.
"All right everyone, show's over," said Scott briskly. "Go back upstairs." He turned to Xavier. "She's going to make trouble over this."
"When has she not?" said Xavier. Scott's mouth quirked.
"The runt doesn't bother me," said Victor from behind the field. "In fact I kinda like havin' her around."
"Nobody asked you," snapped Scott. He turned on his heel and followed Logan's direction.
"Please make an effort to get along," said Xavier to Victor. Victor smiled.
"Ya know me, Prof. I can play nice when I have to."
"I'll hold you to that." Xavier wheeled away.
Logan was ripping dirty clothes out of her bag and slamming them vengefully into her laundry basket, still seething about her confrontation with Creed and his presence in the mansion. His smell was everywhere, invading every corner, and she could hear his sardonic chuckle even though he was locked deep in the bowels of the mansion. Was Xavier insane? Victor was psychotic, a killer who could never be redeemed, and every person in the mansion was in danger while he was here.
There was a tap on her door. Logan flung it wide.
"What!"
Tabitha Smith stepped back. She'd heard stories about Logan's anger, and she didn't feel like being too close to her if she was in one of her "moods." "Um, I wanted to talk to you about Victor."
Logan crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "What about him."
"He really is trying to be good. He told me he doesn't want to hurt anybody anymore. He feels so bad about everything he's done."
Logan sighed. "Look, kid, I'm sure he seems really nice to you, but let me tell you now—for your own good—that that man is nothing but a homicidal maniac. He'll only let you close so it'll be easier for him to rip out your throat when he's ready to."
"He said you'd say that. But really, he's a changed man."
Logan suddenly had the same feeling she got whenever there was someone at the door trying to convert her to a new religion. "I know Victor Creed. I know how his mind works. You don't. So just run along and play with your dollies."
"Look, you don't know me! I'm not just some immature kid! I've been through all kinds of stuff!"
Logan sneered. "You have no idea what it is to be though 'stuff,' Boom Boom. Get the hell off my welcome mat."
"You don't have one…"
"Exactly." Logan slammed the door in her face and flopped back on the bed.