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The Train Station chp.8
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The next hour and a half went by rather quickly, and by now Logan was up on his own, walking around and carefully stretching his sore shoulder after having taken a nice hot shower. The pants Ororo gave him to wear were a bit long, and the shirt was somewhat tight, since she said her old boyfriend was much scrawnier than Logan, but otherwise they would do. He grunted affirmatively, then glanced at Jean. "Ya ready ta get movin'?"
Jean sighed, biting her lip and stuffing the money her friend had given her into her pocket. "Yeah, all ready."
"We're takin' the bus up North." he told her with a nod.
"North? What's up North?" Ororo asked, Jean wondering the same thing.
"Canada." Logan grunted, then scowled, absently clenching his fists by his side. "It's my home turf. If Creed ain't bored with trackin' us yet, he should know better than ta follow me up there."
Jean looked thankfully at her friend, but her eyes were glossy as she had that look like they'd never see eachother again. "Thank you so much 'Ro. I won't forget this."
Ororo smiled sadly and embraced her friend. "Contact me when you get the chance, let me know how you're doing."
Jean nodded, reluctantly backing towards the door with Logan.
"Uh, thanks for the help." Logan rumbled gruffly with a nod towards Ororo as he and Jean walked swiftly out of the apartment.
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As they sat silently on the bus, Logan continued glancing suspiciously out the windows as if he expected Victor Creed to jump out of nowhere and attack them. He barely sat still for more than a few minutes at a time, and he seemed incredibly tense.
Jean stared at her traveling companion, unsure if his paranoia was caused by fear that Creed would find them, or if it was due to the fever that she suspected he still had, that had possible worsened. Maybe it was both. She frowned sympathetically and gently put her hand on his forearm, getting his attention.
"Hrm? What?" Logan grumbled, his cool eyes darting toward her.
"How's your shoulder?" she asked calmly, gesturing toward the injured limb.
Logan cocked his head to the side, then roughly rubbed at his shoulder and winced. Clearing his throat, he replied, "Fine, it don't hurt so much as before."
Jean smiled tightly with a nod, rolling her eyes as he whipped his head around to look out the window again. She sighed, peering ahead at the empty seats of the bus. There were only a few other riders, and they didn't seem to be paying any attention to her and Logan. It would be another hour or so until they reached Canada, and Jean suspected, regretably, that it wasn't going to be a very comfortable trip. "You should try to get some more sleep, we have a ways to go."
"Don't need it." Logan replied roughly, not bothering to look at her.
"Logan." Jean said sternly, putting her hand to his forehead despite his move to dodge her. "You're still pretty warm, now rest." she gave him a cool stare, showing him that she wasn't about to give up.
"Fine." he grumbled through clenched teeth, though Jean knew he was only being irritable because he knew he was sick too and didn't want to admit it. Logan leaned back against the seat, then gradually let his head roll to the side, resting against the window as he fell asleep.
Jean smiled with a nod, then slumped down further in her seat. She found herself still staring at Logan, unable to resist the thought of them bickering the way they'd been, as if they were a married couple. She laughed to herself, then rested her head carefully on his right shoulder as her eyelids grew heavy and she eventually nodded off.
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Logan's eyes suddenly opened and he felt a light weight on his shoulder, then glanced to his right to find Jean fast asleep against him. He started to shift his weight, trying to sit up, but then Jean started to wake, her eyebrows furrowing as she murmured in her sleep.
"Please,..." she started mumbling, and Logan found himself listening intently to what she was saying. "Brett don't...don't hit me again...I-" Jean abruptly flinched, pulling herself away from Logan and taking in a deep breath.
"Whoa, easy darlin', it was jus' a dream." Logan told her in a low soothing tone.
Jean clenched her eyes shut and brushed away the tears that started rolling down her cheeks. She sniffled, then edged a little closer to Logan and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
"Was he yer ex? The one that hit ya? Brett?" he asked carefully, knowing full well that this was a touchy subject. Logan didn't even feel as though he'd earned the right to ask, but speaking his mind, he did so anyway, wondering to himself if Jean would take offense to that.
"Yeah," Jean replied in a bare whisper, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. "I guess I was talking in my sleep then huh?"
"Uh huh." Logan nodded.
Jean straightened in the uncomfortable bus seat and yawned, staring out the window on Logan's side. "Looks like we're almost there." He just seemed to grunt in responce, and she decided to press the question she'd been meaning to bring up again. "So, *now* will you tell me why Creed was after you?"
Logan let out a long sigh. "Well, I guess it can't do any more harm tellin' ya." he stretched his arms out a bit, being extremely careful with his injured arm before turning to look Jean right in the eyes. "I toldja Creed was an enforcer for the Torelli's right?"
Jean nodded, allowing Logan to continue.
He sighed again, composing his thoughts into words, trying to find a short way to explain the answer to Jean's question. "Well I owed Junior Torelli 'bout a hun'red bucks over a poker game see? A lousy hun'red bucks..." he mumbled, shaking his head before looking Jean in the eyes again.
"The night after the game, Junior comes ta my hotel fer his money right? But now he's sayin' I owe 'im a thousand. I o'course said he was full of it, but more colorfully, and refused ta pay. I pulled out my wallet, then tossed him the hun'red I really owed. Junior then swears in my face and takes a swing at me. I mean, the guy's a real shrimp, he's all talk. So I dodge his swing, then my fist meets his face an' the kid's down with a broken nose."
A small smirk played at Jean's lips, but she didn't say anything, allowing him to go on.
"Later that night, I figure I could use a drink, so I head outta my hotel room with my bag, not plannin' on goin' back, and go down to the bar right down the street. As I'm walkin' through the ally, Creed an' a couple of his boys jump me.
"You see, Junior Torelli may be a little snot nosed punk, but he can get any o' his boys to clean up his messes, pick fights, even kill a guy. All o' this fer a lousy hun'red bucks an' a lie." Logan shook his head angrily. "Naturally I fought back, even though one o' the guys got me pretty good with a baseball bat. Creed, the sick bastard that he is, sat back an' watched, wantin' ta get his final licks in when I was almost down. He wanted ta get in the final hit. So I fight off the rest o' the guys, then I grab the baseball bat off the ground, knock Creed over the head an' take off. Now he's still after me 'cuz he didn't get the chance ta finish me off. An' that's it."
Jean's eyebrows furrowed and her face twisted in sympathy. She couldn't understand some people. These guys would beat a man half to death just for some money, and not even a whole lot of money at that. "Then you ended up at the train station." she finished quietly.
"Yep." Logan mumbled, then continued staring out the bus window. He was caught by surprise when he heard Jean's soft laughing. He raised an eyebrow and stared at her.
"I'm sorry," Jean shook her head, trying to tone down her light laughter. "but just think about it. I mean, we got in this huge mess, all because of some bratty mobster's son? It's hysterical!"
"Yeah, a riot." Logan grunted sarcastically, not really finding the whole thing all that funny.
Jean sobered up, realizing that she must have sounded raving mad right then. They were in a life and death situation, and she was there laughing.
"He wants ta kill the both of us ya know." Logan mumbled with a heavy sigh, trying to get Jean thinking seriously again. "Creed's a real psychopath, he'd do it just fer kicks, not because Junior wants 'im to."
Jean leaned her head against Logan's shoulder again. "Well, if what you say is true, us going up to Canada should keep Victor away."
"Hmph." Logan rumbled. "It *should*. But with Creed, you can never tell."
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The Train Station chp.8
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The next hour and a half went by rather quickly, and by now Logan was up on his own, walking around and carefully stretching his sore shoulder after having taken a nice hot shower. The pants Ororo gave him to wear were a bit long, and the shirt was somewhat tight, since she said her old boyfriend was much scrawnier than Logan, but otherwise they would do. He grunted affirmatively, then glanced at Jean. "Ya ready ta get movin'?"
Jean sighed, biting her lip and stuffing the money her friend had given her into her pocket. "Yeah, all ready."
"We're takin' the bus up North." he told her with a nod.
"North? What's up North?" Ororo asked, Jean wondering the same thing.
"Canada." Logan grunted, then scowled, absently clenching his fists by his side. "It's my home turf. If Creed ain't bored with trackin' us yet, he should know better than ta follow me up there."
Jean looked thankfully at her friend, but her eyes were glossy as she had that look like they'd never see eachother again. "Thank you so much 'Ro. I won't forget this."
Ororo smiled sadly and embraced her friend. "Contact me when you get the chance, let me know how you're doing."
Jean nodded, reluctantly backing towards the door with Logan.
"Uh, thanks for the help." Logan rumbled gruffly with a nod towards Ororo as he and Jean walked swiftly out of the apartment.
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As they sat silently on the bus, Logan continued glancing suspiciously out the windows as if he expected Victor Creed to jump out of nowhere and attack them. He barely sat still for more than a few minutes at a time, and he seemed incredibly tense.
Jean stared at her traveling companion, unsure if his paranoia was caused by fear that Creed would find them, or if it was due to the fever that she suspected he still had, that had possible worsened. Maybe it was both. She frowned sympathetically and gently put her hand on his forearm, getting his attention.
"Hrm? What?" Logan grumbled, his cool eyes darting toward her.
"How's your shoulder?" she asked calmly, gesturing toward the injured limb.
Logan cocked his head to the side, then roughly rubbed at his shoulder and winced. Clearing his throat, he replied, "Fine, it don't hurt so much as before."
Jean smiled tightly with a nod, rolling her eyes as he whipped his head around to look out the window again. She sighed, peering ahead at the empty seats of the bus. There were only a few other riders, and they didn't seem to be paying any attention to her and Logan. It would be another hour or so until they reached Canada, and Jean suspected, regretably, that it wasn't going to be a very comfortable trip. "You should try to get some more sleep, we have a ways to go."
"Don't need it." Logan replied roughly, not bothering to look at her.
"Logan." Jean said sternly, putting her hand to his forehead despite his move to dodge her. "You're still pretty warm, now rest." she gave him a cool stare, showing him that she wasn't about to give up.
"Fine." he grumbled through clenched teeth, though Jean knew he was only being irritable because he knew he was sick too and didn't want to admit it. Logan leaned back against the seat, then gradually let his head roll to the side, resting against the window as he fell asleep.
Jean smiled with a nod, then slumped down further in her seat. She found herself still staring at Logan, unable to resist the thought of them bickering the way they'd been, as if they were a married couple. She laughed to herself, then rested her head carefully on his right shoulder as her eyelids grew heavy and she eventually nodded off.
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Logan's eyes suddenly opened and he felt a light weight on his shoulder, then glanced to his right to find Jean fast asleep against him. He started to shift his weight, trying to sit up, but then Jean started to wake, her eyebrows furrowing as she murmured in her sleep.
"Please,..." she started mumbling, and Logan found himself listening intently to what she was saying. "Brett don't...don't hit me again...I-" Jean abruptly flinched, pulling herself away from Logan and taking in a deep breath.
"Whoa, easy darlin', it was jus' a dream." Logan told her in a low soothing tone.
Jean clenched her eyes shut and brushed away the tears that started rolling down her cheeks. She sniffled, then edged a little closer to Logan and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
"Was he yer ex? The one that hit ya? Brett?" he asked carefully, knowing full well that this was a touchy subject. Logan didn't even feel as though he'd earned the right to ask, but speaking his mind, he did so anyway, wondering to himself if Jean would take offense to that.
"Yeah," Jean replied in a bare whisper, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. "I guess I was talking in my sleep then huh?"
"Uh huh." Logan nodded.
Jean straightened in the uncomfortable bus seat and yawned, staring out the window on Logan's side. "Looks like we're almost there." He just seemed to grunt in responce, and she decided to press the question she'd been meaning to bring up again. "So, *now* will you tell me why Creed was after you?"
Logan let out a long sigh. "Well, I guess it can't do any more harm tellin' ya." he stretched his arms out a bit, being extremely careful with his injured arm before turning to look Jean right in the eyes. "I toldja Creed was an enforcer for the Torelli's right?"
Jean nodded, allowing Logan to continue.
He sighed again, composing his thoughts into words, trying to find a short way to explain the answer to Jean's question. "Well I owed Junior Torelli 'bout a hun'red bucks over a poker game see? A lousy hun'red bucks..." he mumbled, shaking his head before looking Jean in the eyes again.
"The night after the game, Junior comes ta my hotel fer his money right? But now he's sayin' I owe 'im a thousand. I o'course said he was full of it, but more colorfully, and refused ta pay. I pulled out my wallet, then tossed him the hun'red I really owed. Junior then swears in my face and takes a swing at me. I mean, the guy's a real shrimp, he's all talk. So I dodge his swing, then my fist meets his face an' the kid's down with a broken nose."
A small smirk played at Jean's lips, but she didn't say anything, allowing him to go on.
"Later that night, I figure I could use a drink, so I head outta my hotel room with my bag, not plannin' on goin' back, and go down to the bar right down the street. As I'm walkin' through the ally, Creed an' a couple of his boys jump me.
"You see, Junior Torelli may be a little snot nosed punk, but he can get any o' his boys to clean up his messes, pick fights, even kill a guy. All o' this fer a lousy hun'red bucks an' a lie." Logan shook his head angrily. "Naturally I fought back, even though one o' the guys got me pretty good with a baseball bat. Creed, the sick bastard that he is, sat back an' watched, wantin' ta get his final licks in when I was almost down. He wanted ta get in the final hit. So I fight off the rest o' the guys, then I grab the baseball bat off the ground, knock Creed over the head an' take off. Now he's still after me 'cuz he didn't get the chance ta finish me off. An' that's it."
Jean's eyebrows furrowed and her face twisted in sympathy. She couldn't understand some people. These guys would beat a man half to death just for some money, and not even a whole lot of money at that. "Then you ended up at the train station." she finished quietly.
"Yep." Logan mumbled, then continued staring out the bus window. He was caught by surprise when he heard Jean's soft laughing. He raised an eyebrow and stared at her.
"I'm sorry," Jean shook her head, trying to tone down her light laughter. "but just think about it. I mean, we got in this huge mess, all because of some bratty mobster's son? It's hysterical!"
"Yeah, a riot." Logan grunted sarcastically, not really finding the whole thing all that funny.
Jean sobered up, realizing that she must have sounded raving mad right then. They were in a life and death situation, and she was there laughing.
"He wants ta kill the both of us ya know." Logan mumbled with a heavy sigh, trying to get Jean thinking seriously again. "Creed's a real psychopath, he'd do it just fer kicks, not because Junior wants 'im to."
Jean leaned her head against Logan's shoulder again. "Well, if what you say is true, us going up to Canada should keep Victor away."
"Hmph." Logan rumbled. "It *should*. But with Creed, you can never tell."
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