Chapter 12.
Early
one mornin' the sun was shinin',
I was layin' in bed
Wond'rin' if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough
And I was standin' on the side of the road
Rain fallin' on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues gettin' through,
Tangled up in blue
She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue
I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue
She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept lookin' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
I muttered somethin' underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue
She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello," she said
"You look like the silent type"
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin' coal
Pourin' off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue
I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on like a bird that flew,
Tangled up in blue
She'd had to pawn her engagement ring to get out of Japan. She'd made
her way back home, taking a flight to British Columbia.
She hitchhiked as far as Alberta, desperate to be back on her native soil.
She had nowhere to go, no money and nothing to cling too. Logan ended up inside a smoky, run down bar where women wound themselves around poles for a bunch lumberjacks and truck drivers for money. She went back for almost two weeks, until one of the girls ran off to get married.
Logan took her place. Deep down, she knew that it was reprehensible and weak, but desperation kept her inner voice silent most of the time. Besides, she was past giving a damn about herself or anyone else.
She drifted from one bar to another, until they began to blur together. She didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually the sharp edge of Makoto's death blunted against an endless stream of mostly nameless men. She wasn't Wolverine any more, she wasn't even Logan. 'Patch' was her stage name, and she found another level of numbness in anonymity.
I met a
gin-soaked, bar-room queen in Memphis
She tried to take me upstairs for a ride
She had to heave me right across shoulder
'Cause I just can't seem to drink you off my mind
Normally, Victor Creed would've been perfectly content to spend the night hanging out in a strip club, but as it was, he was stuck focusing on his latest hit—not the woman currently straddling a pole.
Still, he allowed himself a glance. He couldn't see her too well, through the distance and the smoke, but at least he could tell she was all but naked.
She flipped back, and Victor caught a quick look at her face. He started. It couldn't be… But her features were all too familiar. They were the ones that had haunted his dreams for years.
Victor shook his head. He was just seeing her face on another woman—again.
It's the Honky
Tonk Women
Gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues
Still, he had to admit, the resemblance was remarkable. He tapped a local-looking customer on the shoulder. "Who's the babe?" The man looked back at him and grinned, the missing-a-few-teeth variety.
"That's Patch. Ain't she somethin'?" Victor agreed that she was. He was about to make his way to the stage and see if "Patch" wanted to get a little more personal with him, but he saw his target moving towards the door. Duty called. Victor followed him out into the cold Canadian night.
Logan leaned on the bar, having a drink after her last performance of the night. She saw a tall man walk in the room, and immediately picked up on how out of place he was. For starters, who the hell wore sunglasses in the middle of a dark bar?
He sat at a table, averting his eyes from the stage. Logan smirked. This guy had to be the worst undercover cop she'd ever seen.
She watched with morbid interest as he approached one of the guys in the bar. Just as she had suspected, it didn't take the narc long to piss someone off. Soon, he was surrounded by three of her worst-paying spectators. She sighed, slamming back the last of her drink. She better go save the guy. After all, he was sort of cute in a geeky way.
"You boys startin' trouble?"
The biggest of the three grinned down at her, showing off his lack of teeth. "Of course not, Miss Patch. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."
"I'm sorry, but this 'pretty little head' can't help but worry. Why don't you walk away now and leave this boy alone."
Another of the guys frowned. "This is a man's business, babe. Run along now."
Logan sighed. Why did they always have to make is so difficult. She grabbed the guy, kneeing him hard, and then slamming her skull into his.
He fell to the ground, unconscious.
"That wasn't too nice, Ma'am," said one of the others.
"Yeah, whatcha gonna do about it, punk?"
The third man came up behind her, a knife in hand.
"Look out!" yelled the narc.
Logan spun around, claws extended. "I ain't impressed with that," she snarled.
"Holy shit!" the man said, dropping the knife to the ground. He and his friend back up, heading out of the bar as quickly as possible.
Logan looked up, the owner of the bar staring at her from a few feet away. She pulled her claws back in, and he glared at her.
"Get outta my bar, freak."
Logan pulled her hat down over her eyes, flipping the bar owner off as she walked out. Like she needed him and his greasy-fingered "patrons."
"Wait!"
"Flamin' hell," Logan muttered. The narc was following her out.
"You're a mutant aren't you?"
"Wow, it's Mr. Observant," Logan grumbled.
"I'm a mutant, too."
Logan spun around, looking at him from under the wide brim. "Great. Let's hug and go on Oprah."
The man stuck out his hand. "Scott Summers."
Logan shook his hand tentatively. This man wasn't exactly on her list of favorite people at the moment. He had just cost her her job… "Look, I need to be getting home…" she told him.
"Where's home?" he asked.
Logan pointed to a trailer hooked to the back of a Land Cruiser.
"Looks…cozy."
Logan gave him another glare.
"Um, look, I belong to a group of mutants in Upstate New York. It's like…a team. Are you interested in checking it out?"
Logan shuddered at the mention of the word "team." As if that had ever gone well before. "Sorry, bub, not interested."
"Scott, you comin' back to de car anytime soon?"
Scott sighed. "Just a minute, Remy!"
"Who's that?" Logan asked.
"Another…teammate."
Logan craned her neck, trying to see him. He made that a little easier by getting out of the car. "My, my who's dis pretty femme?"
"Names Logan, gumbo."
"Logan Gumbo…dat's an interesting name."
Logan smirked. She liked this guy.
"Remy!"
Remy sighed. "What, chère?"
"Why'd you get out of the dang car?"
"To see if Scott needed help."
"I'm sure Scott's fine! Get away from the strip club!"
Logan tried to suppress her laughter at the scene. She wasn't sure who these people were, but they were more screwed up than her. "So what's this team…Scott, was it?"
"We're a team of mutants who are fighting to prevent a war between humans and mutants."
Logan raised her eyebrow.
"Dere's free food."
Logan laughed. "Well, you've sold me then. I'll come give it a look."
Logan looked around the mansion that Remy, Scott, and Rogue had brought her to. It certainly wasn't like any place she'd ever been before.
"Hi!."
Logan turned at the perky voice. "Um, hi."
"I'm Katherine Pryde—but everyone calls me Kitty."
"I'm Logan—but everyone calls me Logan."
Kitty frowned. "A bit sarcastic I see."
"Just a tad."
"Well I'm glad you're here anyway. We X-Women need to stick together."
"I haven't signed up for your little outfit as anything but a temporary member yet, so don't be getting any big ideas," Logan said.
"I think you'll like it here," Kitty said. "We're like one big happy family."
"Great. Just what I need," Logan muttered.
"I was attempting sarcasm," Kitty said.
Logan smirked. "Try a little harder next time, kid."
"Hey, you wanna come down and eat lunch with me?"
Logan started to say no, but changed her mind. Maybe she should attempt to be a bit more social than she was on Alpha Flight. Maybe things would work out better that way…
"Yeah, okay."
"Great!" Kitty bounced out into the hallway with Logan close behind her.
"I tol' you, chère, I jus' fell asleep in the rec room!"
"I don't believe you, you lyin' swamp rat!"
"But it's de trut'! I was watchin' de Star Trek marat'on on de Sci-Fi Channel!"
"You don't expect me to actually believe that crap about you bein' a Trekkie, do ya?"
"But I am, chère! Cap'n Kirk changed my life!"
Kitty just walked right between Rogue and Gambit, not even giving them a glance. Logan followed her, but then stopped when Rogue hit Gambit into the nearest wall. "Shouldn't we help him?" Logan asked.
"Oh this happens all the time," Kitty said. "It's their substitute for sex."
Logan decided not to ask for an elaboration on that comment. "So is this place always this crazy?"
"Oh no. This is much too calm for a normal X-Day."
Logan smiled. Maybe she had found a place where she could belong…
"Logan, I'd like you to try and relax," said Professor Xavier. Logan looked at the redheaded woman in front of her nervously.
"This won't hurt a bit," she said.
"No offense, but I'm not crazy about someone I barely know poking around in my head." Xavier wheeled to her side.
"Jean is my most skilled telepath, Logan. You can trust her." Jean reached out her hands, smiling, and placed them lightly on Logan's temples. Logan fought the urge to jerk away.
"Close your eyes, breath deeply," Jean instructed. Her own green eyes closed. Logan kept hers open, even though the professor frowned at her. She felt an odd sensation creeping over her, an unpleasant tingle. Jean's expression changed from one of serenity to worry, and then to panic. She gasped and jerked away from Logan, her eyes flying open.
"Jean?" said Xavier. Jean looked at him with wide, panicky eyes. "Jean," he said. "Come back to me." Jean blinked and took a deep breath. Logan looked at her.
"What did you see?" Jean pushed her hands through her hair and sat up straighter.
"Professor, we need to talk." Xavier nodded.
"Thank you, Logan. You may go." Logan stood up and started for the door of his study.
"You have no memories," said Jean softly. Logan snorted.
"Oh really? I forgot." She left.
"Professor, I've never seen anything like her mind before," Jeans said. "It frightened me."
Xavier frowned. "What did you see?"
"It was dark. Pieces of it were missing—as if they were slashed away. What memories are left were shrouded in pain." Jean shuddered. "She's so angry, Professor."
Xavier stroked his chin. "Do you believe her to be dangerous to the rest of the team?"
Jean thought about the question. "Not at the moment, but I sensed a level of instability. She could snap, Professor—and then she would be a liability to the rest of the team."
"Then we'll have to see that that doesn't happen."
"Professor, I don't think it's wise to allow her to remain at the mansion. We don't know what she's capable of." She lowered her voice. "Scott said when he found her she was in…well, a less than savory place."
"It is not our policy to turn our backs on our fellow mutants," Xavier said. "Should Logan prove to be a problem, then yes, I would be forced to remove her. However, until that should become a reality and not a mere theory, then I want her to remain. If she is as troubled as you've said, then maybe we could help her."
"But what if she's beyond help?"
"Do you believe she is?"
Jean sighed. "No."
Outside the mansion, Logan paced across the grounds. Whatever Jean had done to her had stirred up a flurry of dark thoughts that wouldn't quite come to the surface. They made her feel nervous and jumpy. She couldn't stand being inside the mansion another second.
There was a rumble and Logan looked up. Perfect. It was going to rain on her. However, the sky was clear, with only a few fluffy white clouds high above her. The thunder was coming from the rose garden.
Logan knew she'd probably regret it but she had to investigate. She came around the hedgerow and saw a tall, elegant black woman with long white hair, maneuvering a small rain cloud around the opulent rose bushes. Logan's eyebrows went up. The woman sensed someone behind her and turned.
"Oh, hello."
"Hi," said Logan. The woman came over, the cloud dissipating.
"I don't believe we've met. Are you Xavier's new recruit?"
"Not sure I'm staying, but yes." The woman shook her hand.
"I'm Ororo, but most people call me Storm."
"I'm Logan." Ororo cocked her head.
"You look upset, Logan." Logan scuffed the grass with a toe.
"I just had to go through this mind-scanner thing with the redhead and the professor. It was kinda weird." Storm smiled.
"Jean's beside manner is a little lacking. And one's first experience with a telepath is always unsettling. But Xavier insists all potential X-Men be scanned to make sure they are not a threat."
"Well I guess it beats peeing in a cup." Storm laughed.
"Are you going to stay?" Logan shrugged.
"You people seem sort of disorganized. And there's a whole bunch of kids running around."
"Xavier also runs a school for mutant children," said Storm. "A place where they can be accepted and learn to use their gifts for the benefit of humanity."
"You guys all have the same line, don't you?"
"I believe it," said Storm. "For what it is worth, many troubled mutants have found a home here, Logan. We are not quick to judge. Perhaps you should give Xavier a chance."
"I'm really not a team player, Storm." Storm smiled widely.
"Neither was I. But I adjusted. You will too."
"We'll see," said Logan, walking deeper into the woods.
Logan knocked on the door to the professor's study. "You wanted to see me, Chuck?"
Xavier gave her a stern look. "My name is Professor Xavier—or if you must, Charles."
"Fine, Charlie. You wanted to see me?"
Xavier sighed. "Yes, come in."
Logan strolled into the room, sitting down in the chair across from him. "What's up, prof?"
"I have reviewed what information we were able to gather on you, and I have decided to extend you an offer to become an official member of the X-Men."
Logan thought for a moment. Did she really want to tie herself down to a team again? Bad memories of Alpha Flight came flooding back. But on the other hand, this place felt more like home than any other place ever had. She didn't want to go back to the life she'd been living in Canada. She wanted something real again.
"I'll do it—but under one condition."
"What's that, Logan?"
"You let me live my own life. I know you got your rules, and I'll try to follow the ones I think are important, but as far as my own time goes, it's mine. I can leave when I want, and I don't have to play any stupid little games."
"Fair enough. You're an adult. I can't impose the same sort of rules on you that I do on my younger students. As long as your behavior does not put the team in immediate danger, then I can allow you your freedom while you remain a member of the X-Men."
"Thanks, Chuck."
Xavier stuck his hand across the desk. "Welcome to the X-Men, Logan."
Logan took his hand.