Undying Hearts Chapter 7: Two Roads, One Destination, a x-men: evolution fanfic

What? Does everyone hate me all of a sudden? Does everyone hate this story? I mean, COME ON! Throw me a freakin' bone here! I really do wanna update, but does that mean I'm just telling my story to the air. FLAME if that's all you've got to say! Say something! Even if it's just a quick hello! I'm down with that! It's not pointless. It's not stupid. I'M DESPERATE!!!!!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Okay I'm done.

Disclaimer: Don't even get me started. I've said it for six freakin' chapters. If you missed it, go back and look at the other chapters. I'm drawing the line! (DUN DUN DUUUUN)

So, here's the fic. Read. Enjoy. REVIEW!

Hehe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7 – Different Roads, One Destination

"Attention. Last call for Flight 0984 at gate C-32. All passengers boarding at gate C-32, this is your last call."

It was one of many announcements bouncing around the corridors of the airport that Rogue heard. She stood there in a muddle of people going to and fro, all in such a rush. Not that she wasn't uneager to leave the place, since it proved to be overall unwelcoming. Still, their rushing was part of the reason she disliked it so much.

Humans pushed and pulled other humans, depending on whether the others were in their way or if they were hurrying them along to the same flight. Security didn't make things all that great either. People were checked and rechecked over and over if they didn't get through the first time. And people who managed to get through it all early sat waiting in the terminals, completely bored while they waited for their flight.

As Rogue stood in front of a screen of all the flights going to all sorts of places around the world, she observed the data. Delayed flights. Cancelled flights. Flights on time. Flights no one was really sure about. Constantly flashed numbers, places, times of departure and arrival.

And I thought humans were complicated enough, Rogue thought sarcastically. Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey girlie," spoke some rude thug behind her. "Are you in line or what? Some of us don't want to miss our flight. Or don't you know where you're heading?"

Rogue could easily pick up the mocking tone in the man's voice. Without looking back, she stepped aside to let him go. As he walked past, the ugly brute gave a snort through his nose. "Dumb brunette."

The man was so pathetic she almost didn't even want to bother teaching him a lesson. But she did so anyhow. Just as he said his remark, she stuck the toe of her boot out, causing the man to stumble forward and crash face first onto the floor. But not before grabbing onto the person in front of him. This person turned out to be a woman. And a hysterical one at that. "Fred! Someone's trying to abduct me!"

The man in front of her was on the thug in a minute. Rogue watched the two men with great amusement.

The other man turned the brute over onto his back. "You trying to take advantage of my wife?"

"No, sir! Not at all! Some b---- tripped me!"

It turned out the couple also had children. They gasped as they heard the strange 'b' word and their mother quickly got them behind her. "How dare you!"

"You're saying a girl tripped you?" asked the husband. "Where is she?"

"She's right the—"

But the brute immediately stopped. The girl was no longer there. He couldn't even spot her anywhere in the passing crowd. It was as if she had vanished.

---------------------------------------------------

Logan already had a pretty good idea of where things were in that town. Bayville, though called a city by its residents, was really not all that big. He took his motorcycle through it a few times, testing his memory over and over again. He tried to remember everything about the areas with every sense: specific landmarks he saw, certain sounds that characterized certain parts of it, and above all how every inch of the city smelled. Smell was especially important, since that was the best way of remembering something.

After a while Logan figured he should start concentrating on the outer sections of the city. Mainly he inspected the state of the true suburban-dwellers, how their homes were situated, and places of vacancy to rent out in case of some special occasion. He ended up finding one particular apartment building that seemed quite inviting. It was neither too fancy nor too shabby. It was also situated in an area very close to the woods, but also had a road leading right into the Bayville's downtown; easy to access from both in town and out of town.

As evening began to approach, Logan felt the urgency to wrap things up and return to the warehouse with the Brotherhood. The moon had already begun to rise, now a bit fuller than last night. He slowed his bike down as he drove about the commercial center of Bayville. It was mostly filled with stores large and small, ranging from showcase malls to little trinkets and goodies shops as well as restaurants. The only thing that really interested Logan were the bars and billiard halls. They were the only places besides the woods that he could really relax and/or enjoy himself.

He took another look at the sun's position. He was just barely going to make it back. Revving the bike up, he zoomed full speed out of the city towards the warehouse. The road changed as he went along, from a smooth road covered by asphalt and tar to a natural dirt road. Dust kicked up as his machine roared along, the clumps of trees becoming thicker every second.

The smell of burning rubber against the manmade road disappeared, with the smell of the wild taking its place. It was something that struck a strange nerve in Logan. The transition of scents affected him greatly, not so much due to the contrasting smells, but rather their affect on his mood and character. It was as if he was changing from one type of person to another, like his transformation from man to wolf. It was all linked together in him. The reality of being two creatures in one. Transitioning from one home to another, one home for each being.

And yet, these two creatures did not seem so wholly different. It wasn't as if the man in him didn't like the wilderness, because it did. The sense of being with nature, of connecting with the roots of one's existence. Then again, this feeling was probably connected with the wolf.

And it wasn't as if the wolf resented visiting alleys and wandering roads and highways. It was the connection of the animal to a sense of direction, intelligence, and danger. This, in turn, was probably connected with the man.

As Logan drove along towards the headquarters, he wondered if anyone, not necessarily other werewolves, but if anyone ever felt the way he felt. Or was he alone?

Sabertooth's words rang in the depths of his mind. When you're with a pack, you're never alone.

Logan had figured by joining the Brotherhood he would never feel alone. Or at least for the most part. He hoped he would feel purpose and meaning to this confusing road of twists and turns called life. He didn't feel it yet, but he reminded himself this kind of stuff took time. That was just the way it was.

So, when will I feel like I'm part of this pack? When will I feel that I'm really not alone?

------------------------------------------------

Rogue sipped a cup of coffee while sitting in one of those waiting chairs in the terminal. She was rewarding herself for finally laying out a more clear plan of where she was to go. For over an hour she had been struggling about the entire ordeal in her head. There were so many places to chose from that she had – for a time – felt even more lost than she did before leaving home. But if ever the thought of returning home entered her mind, she would scold herself.

I can't falter on this. I know this is what I have to do. Well, at least I think it is. I've got to stick to the plan, or I'll just end up back home, and at square one.

She had taken the time to search the airport's stores and looked up information about some of the places people were flying to. It was as she was walking down the long hallway of terminals when she finally reached a dead end. And there, as the next flight to come into the last terminal, was what she had been looking for.

The screen above the desk of the departure gate read:

Destination: New York

New York. That was it.

Rogue didn't quite know how she ended up deciding on New York. She had heard plenty about it from radical vampires who had dared to see the world. Besides London, New York was the next best place for a vampire to go. But even then Rogue hadn't really thought of it as where she wanted to go. This was her journey. Her adventure. Her chance to find herself somehow.

Yet, as she looked up at the screen and saw the name, it was as if something was trying to speak to her. No words or speech came to her mind. It was just a feeling. A feeling that came from somewhere deep within her, almost buried or locked away. She didn't know at the time what it was, but the feeling it projected seemed to grow stronger. It certainly grew strong enough for her to listen to and follow.

She just had enough cash to get a boarding ticket, leaving a very large hole in her cash account. She decided she might try and get a job once she got to New York, just so she would have something to live on in the time she spent there.

The flight attendants voice came on very loudly through the microphone. "Attention. All passengers boarding flight 00783 to New York, U.S.A. should start boarding at gate A-01 now."

Rogue was relieved. Finally, how could forty-five minutes feel so long? As she headed to the gate, she handed the flight attendant her ticket and walked down the corridor. She had never seen anything quite like it. While the experience of flight was in no way lost to her, she was curious to see how humans managed to pull it off.

She finally reached the entrance to the plane, found her seat, and sat down. She took a quick glance outside and saw that the sun had risen even higher now. She looked at her watch. The hands of the minute and hour read almost half past eleven. Rogue discreetly pulled the collar of her coat a little higher and pulled the shade of her window down. Even her concealing clothes could not completely protect her from the harmful rays. She snuggled into her seat. Her last thoughts before being distracted by launch of the plane were focused on what she was leaving behind, as well as what lay ahead.

Rogue knew she would be leaving all familiarity. She was embarking to a strange new world that could prove to be as dangerous as it was amazing. She wondered if there would be any vampires that were living in New York. Perhaps she would somehow be able to find them, and then she'd have someone like her to pass the time with.

Hmm. Since when were any of the other vampires like her? Sure, she had her friends, but she could never explain to them what it was really like for her. She had no real family, no sense of belonging to the community, not really feeling she was what she was. Yes, she was a vampire and could easily prove it, but deep down there was so much more to her than that. In fact, she began to think that there was more to all of them in the community than being just vampires. But none of them seemed to worry about it, and it made her feel very silly.

No, it was probably just her that felt that way. She didn't truly feel whole, as if a part of her was missing. A part of her that needed her just as badly as she needed it. Would this journey help her find that part of herself?

I hope so, she prayed as she felt the entire shaking with power, zooming down the runway until it finally became airborne.

------------------------------------------------

The bike came to a screeching stop, and Logan swung his leg over. As he walked to the warehouse, he noticed that Sabertooth was already waiting for him outside.

Sabertooth had that same smile, very smug and almost a smirk. "So, had did your mission go, Wolverine?"

Logan shrugged. "Alright I guess. Wasn't much of a mission if you ask me. There were a few good places that could serve as undercover hideouts and hangouts if we ever decide to go to town. But I very much doubt you need it."

It was true. With all that they had in their headquarters, there wasn't anything else they could really ask for. Except maybe a maid.

"Everything will be taken into consideration, Wolverine. For now, come and join us. Your friends await."

Logan was hesitant at first, and he never really loosened up as they made their way inside. The other werewolves seemed to be having a blast. Some of them had already undergone a great deal of transformation, looking even more like dogs than people. They played with what looked like to Logan "giant doggie toys." They wrestled and tore up all sorts of junk. Sometimes they played with it together, making some kind of strange game. Others were talking and laughing and carrying on. None of it was really any interest to Logan. In truth, a stool at the bar or a pool table would have better satisfied him over this. He eventually retired by the circle of seats (the forum) and watched the others at their activities.

Just when he began to think there would be nothing else going on for the night, Sabertooth appeared at the center of the room, solemnly clapping his hands. Everyone immediately stopped, as if it were some command.

In a ominous tone, broad and clear, Sabertooth said, "It is time."

The rest of the group leapt up and gathered at the doorway, all standing in some particular order that Logan could not identify. Sabertooth also went to the door, taking lead, then turned back and looked at Logan. "Well, are you coming?"

Logan hesitantly stood up. "Where?"

"To the hunt."

He suddenly realized what was happening. The time of transformation was nearly at its peak, and now it was their time to go out and hunt for food, as real wolves.

The thought of hunting ran of shiver of both fear and excitement through Logan. But suspicion lay as an undertone, making fear a little stronger.

"Alright," he finally answered, not quite certain of what he was about to get into. Still, it would have seemed strange to the others if he refused. He slowly walked over to the group. Sabertooth led him near the front just behind him. Then he threw open the doors.

"The night is yours, my brothers!"

From all around howls echoed through the wood. The other werewolves leapt like animals and answered the howls. And Logan watched as they reached further transformation. Their noses grew darker until black, their bodies slightly shifted so they could run around on all fours.

Logan wasn't sure what to feel in all of this. He was half terrified, and yet half relieved. For he knew that his transformation was practically upon him. At least having others like him undergoing the same thing made him feel less strange. But still, the ritual overall seemed a little ghastly.

"The time has come, Wolverine," growled Sabertooth, who too was now on all fours.

Logan felt the changes in his body again. The same thing, only the sense in the wolf in him was stronger than the previous night. That always happened when the moon waxed. And it would increase until the full moon. Logan let himself go as his human self slipped under the dominance of the animal that he despised, but none the less was still a part of him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ugh, gotta cut this short. Sorry.