Moving On - Chapter 6
By Gimpy
Five looming figures gathered within the metallic walls, a heavy uncertainty hanging in the air. One man strayed from the rest letting the shadows consume him. Muscular and burly arms draped across his chest, a forbidden cigar firmly sitting between his thinly drawn lips. No one dared to comment on it, no one demanded he put it out, everyone understanding its need to be there. Another man arched over the highlighted table in the center of the shadowy room. His shoulders hunched over it, his head bowing to the contents that lay on it. His shaded eyes attempted to drink in the meaning that lay before him.
Pulling back he muttered, "I don't believe it. I refuse to."
Aged and graceful in his own right, Professor Charles Xavier guided his sleek chair closer to the foreboding table. "We must at least entertain the possibility that what we see before us is in fact truth."
"I agree, we cannot simply disregard it because we do not want to accept it." The lone woman in the group added, her soft voice only edging Scott on.
"No," he protested, pulling back even further.
"Mr. Summers, I understand your connection with Rogue, I like to believe that I have one too. But we can't allow that to interfere with our judgement." A new addition member of the infamous group, Hank hesitated before he'd added his own point of view.
"Like hell," Scott cursed, a tempered hand ruffling the short hairs on the back of his tensed neck. "We know her and this," he swiped his hand towards the table. "Is not her. It's not."
When all he received were questioning looks, he charged the table, grabbing at the loose-leaf papers scattered across it. "These don't make sense," he cried, shaking the crumpled sheets in his hand. "Some of them have dates going as far back as 1995, she was what, nine? Ten years old? No, it doesn't add up."
"Your faith in her is admirable, Scott," Xavier spoke in a calm and fatherly voice. "But what do we honestly know about the girl?"
"Enough!" Scott quipped, his temper rising as the feeling of being on trial overwhelmed him. "Enough to know that she would never have done this," he paused grabbing a particular clipping and reading the headline. "'American Truck Driver Found Dead Inside Canadian Border'. What the hell does that have to do with her? It's dated 1998, she was twelve!"
Unaffected by Scott's emotional outburst, Xavier tried to reason with him, his voice still deeply calm. "Perhaps nothing but you cannot deny that there must be something valid to these, her reaction to them is evidence enough."
Scott was grasping at straws now and he knew it. "Maybe it was just the content, maybe the word 'death' sprawled over half of these scared her? I don't know!"
"Scott," Storm drawled, an unintentional but no less demeaning look on her chiseled features. "You are reaching for something that isn't there. You know as well as I do that Rogue is a hardened young woman, I do not think a word could effect her if it didn't pertain to her deeply."
"Why am I getting the distinct feeling that I'm being ganged up on? And why the hell are you just standing there? I could use your help you know," Scott snapped, twisting to glare at the still silent Logan.
Guilt flashed across Logan's stoic features as he shifted his stance and kept his thoughts to himself. He couldn't bring himself to speak, all he could do was replay the situation over in his mind. The anger burning in her eyes that had been smoldered by her desperation. Her soft voice pleading with him for understanding. He couldn't bring himself to defend her and Scott saw it. It was written all along his face and utter shock threatened to throttle Scott.
"You rat bastard," he cursed, his glare darkening. "Don't tell me you, you of all people, are buying into this crap?"
Tightening his hold on the cigar hanging from his lips, Logan hesitated before murmuring softly, "You weren't there…"
"No I wasn't, but you were," he spat, his words accusing Logan of more guilt then he deserved.
Scoffing bitterly, Logan stared at Scott, seething, "You wanna tell me what that's supposed ta mean?"
"No, I wanna know why you were in her room with her, alone? I wanna know why the kids in the hall say you two were fighting! I wanna know what the hell is going on between you two!" Scott's voice was slowly growing in strength as both men advanced on each other.
"Why Cyke? Ya jealous?" Logan's words dug in, hitting a deeply rooted nerve.
Stiffening, stretching his lean body as tall as it would go, Scott sneered at the slightly shorter man. "Do I have a reason to be?"
When Logan's smug smirk turned vicious, Xavier intervened quickly. "Gentlemen! You are losing site of the real problem. You can sort out whatever rivalry you have later. There are far more important things at hand than your own egos." Both men responded to the commanding voice of discipline, the bickering ending though the stares continued. "There is a girl sitting in the hall at this very moment, scared beyond all means and you two bickering is not going to help her. Now, if we are to assume that what we have before us is grounded in truth, the question is why was it sent and what does it mean."
Silence followed the Professor's words as every member of the small group tried to wrap their minds around the events of the last few days and their meaning.
It dawned on Logan first and he muttered a curse, breaking the silence. "It makes sense…" His feet moved without consent, pacing his side of the room. "I thought that… she didn't want my help because she was pissed off at me. But she knew, she knew that the box was a threat to her and she was just trying to keep me from it."
"She's being blackmailed," Scott reasoned, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.
"So it would appear," Xavier added, reaching toward the table, his powers drawing a few clippings to his welcoming hand. "But to what end?" His words went unnoticed to both agitated men.
"Her hands… did she really do that or…" Scott couldn't finish the thought, didn't even want it floating around in his head.
The pace Logan had set faltered as he came to stand before his adversary and friend. "You don't think?"
Scott shrugged sadly, muttering, "It makes sense. But why wouldn't she tell us? She knows she can talk to us… she lied… last night she lied, why?" Scott was struggling to grasp everything rampaging before him.
"She was scared, I smelled it on her but I didn't think… It was there at the door and all the way down to her room and I didn't… Damn-it Scott, you should have seen her. It killed her, having me see. She begged for me to forgive her. She knew what she'd done and she begged me to forgive her." Logan's own eyes were pleading now, pleading because he should have seen it, should have known.
The other occupants were forgotten as the two men converged, talking as if they were the only two in the room. Scott's forehead wrinkled as he spoke, "If they are true… she was nine! Nine years old, that doesn't seem right."
"Think about it, what do we honestly know about her? You said it yourself, she never talks. She lied to us last night, who's to say she didn't lie about her age… or everything," Logan uttered as he slowly started to realize the young woman seated out in the hall might not be the woman he thought she was. There were too many clippings, too many victims. He no longer saw the innocence about her but the aged grace in her eyes, it clicked into place, its presence now had meaning.
Was she as ruthless as the clippings were leading them to believe? Was the naivete about her a ruse to fool them? He knew himself to be a great judge of character, had he been wrong this time? Had her enchanting beauty pulled the wool over his eyes? There were too many questions and not enough answers.
Scott's own thoughts had followed Logan's and his conclusion fell along the lines of his. They needed answers. Overwhelmed, he stared at his friend and posed the troubling question. "Do we talk to her?"
It took Logan a moment to respond as a hand traveled the length of his hair, mussing the already messy strands. His head shook softly, "You do it, things between us are a little awkward."
"Yeah, you mentioned that." Scott wanted to ask about it but let it go. He didn't have the strength to be jealous, didn't even think he wanted to be jealous because at that very moment all he felt for the girl was mistrust. The need to believe in her was being outweighed by the overpowering evidence. "Alright, I'll go."
Trapped, that's what she was. The walls had become her prison, caging her in. Curled around herself, tightly wound in the small metallic chair, she watched the door they had vanished into. This was her trial, they were her jury and her persecution was at hand. The salt in her eyes had dried but she felt them inside, felt her heart slowly crumble, bleeding and whimpering. After everything she'd been through, after conquering every obstacle that had crossed her path, her demise had come. Not on the battlefield or at the throws of her enemies, but in the vessel of a small, unremarkable and utterly plain box. There was numbness inside of her controlled by unwillingness to believe this was real. It was all happening so fast, one day spent celebrating, the next spent in fear and then the pillars of her life tumbling.
Escape had been considered. All she had to do was stand up, slip into the elevator, get past the farewell committee, steal the keys to Logan's truck and she'd be safe. Having to face them now that they knew, seeing that in their eyes, death was more welcomed. Yet she couldn't bring herself to leave. Her legs wouldn't budge and her arms refused to push her out of the chair. She was stuck and she knew it was because she couldn't leave them. She loved them too much and too deeply.
They would just have to understand but she was dreading the explanation, uncertain if she could go through with it. They were angry, she could hear the yelling and cursing, flinching every time she heard Scott's voice raise, never catching the words. The emotion behind it was as clear as glass. He was fuming, angered by her betrayal and her deceit.
When the voices fell silent, her pulse picked up, this was it, her fate, her sentencing. Folding even further into her own form, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the door to open, waited for Logan's roar, Scott's bitterness, the Professor's disappointment. The door slid open and one pair of tanned and expensive shoes came into view. She knew them, had helped in their purchase, and her strength quaked.
The shoes stalled as the door behind them cut the hallway off from the other room. Frozen, her eyes watched as the shoes closed the gap between them. A light breeze wafted over her when Scott sat down beside her. Never taking her eyes from his shoes, she simply held herself.
Neither one spoke, both staring silently at his shoes. Scott acted first, leaning heavily on his knees and muttering a somewhat agitated, "Hey."
When she didn't respond in kind Scott sighed. Taking in her defensive fetal position he was hit with a saddened reality. "So it's true," he dejected.
Slender arms tightened, darkened eyes adverting away from their stalwart position and still no response.
The anger he'd felt diminished ever so slightly as an undeniable need to hold her hit him hard, clenching his chest. Barely able to ignore it, he spoke again, his voice somewhat dead. "You lied to me, to all of us."
The act of actually hearing her crimes voiced made the once dead tears come back to life. She shifted, turning her face away from him completely. The silent and glacier feel she was giving off irked him, fueling his anger. And still she remained voiceless, not even attempting to defend herself. If she denied it right now, this very second, he'd believe her. No thought would go into it, he'd accept her words as truth and that would be it. He would defend her to his very last breath. They both knew it but she kept to herself, not even daring a sideways glance.
"You're being blackmailed, aren't you?" It was rhetorical, they both knew she was, it was as obvious as the white streaks lining the front of her wavy mane. Even still she squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear breaking past the barrier. "Who?" he questioned, his voice dipping into the anger he was trying to starve off.
There was no answer to his question and even if she wanted to speak, she knew it would be impossible, so she shrugged. Frustrated, Scott fell back into the chair, his head hitting the wall lightly.
"Marie, you have got to talk to me," he snapped harshly and she jerked even further to the side, a string of tears tainting her flawless cheeks. "Did they do that to your hands?" She flinched, pulling the brace closer to her chest. "Did they!"
Finally a sound fell from her lips in the form of a whimper. Rogue quivered as she struggled against his interrogation.
Turning to her, placing a cautious hand on her shoulder he asked again, concern soaking his words. "Did they?" The hand at her shoulder wound its way into her hair, combing it back, bring her face into view. "Baby, you gotta talk, if they did… I can help. We can figure this out… together. You and me."
Gasping breathlessly, her glistening eyes met his. She found hope lingering there, it was just a glimmer but it was almost enough… almost. Shaking her head, he lost her to her own fetal position once more.
Groaning, he ran his hand over his face, trying to take away his frustration. Taking another look at her curled in the too small chair, he stood up and started back towards the room. It was then that her timid voice, crackling and broken, finally found its strength.
"No-o-o..."
Mid-step, he turned on his heals and stared. Still buried in her knees, he wondered if he'd imagined it. "What?"
Peering over the ridge of her jeans she muttered, "No."
"No what, Marie?" he probed, taking a step towards her.
"Ah did it," she breathed, looking at her hands. "Most o' it anyways."
Dropping before her, Scott took the tender flesh into his own masculine hands, kissing it lightly through the gloves and plastic brace. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
Astonished, she glared at him hard. "Are yah mad at meh? Honestly?"
He hesitated but spoke truthfully. "A little."
"Does it scare yah, ta know what Ah've done?" The tone to her voice leveled, giving nothing away, even the tears had vanished. Guilt shone in his eyes and she had her answer. "Now think, truly think, Scott. If Ah had told yah… when we'd first met… that fear, it'd be fifty times greater."
Scott shook his head, emphatically trying to deny what he knew to be true. "You don't know that."
"Yes Ah do… this place… yah people… yah were salvation for meh. Mah way out of that life." The southern accent thickened as she spoke, the tears returning with a vengeance. "Ah couldn't risk losin' this place… Ah honestly can't 'member a time when Ah felt secure… safe… until Ah met Logan an' you," she admitted, her other hand brushing against the stubble on his cheek. Barely containing the sobs threatening to wreak havoc on her, she choked out, "Ah don't deserve this place, Ah don't deserve yah, Ah'm sorry for lyin', Ah'm so so-sorry."
Seeing the disheveled girl sitting before him, he began to understand why it had killed Logan. Being witness to it, all Scott wanted to do was take her into his arms and protect her, keep back whatever demon that was chasing her now. Still holding her hand, he kissed it softly once more.
"I want to forgive you," he whispered and the hope stolen from Rogue trickled its way back into her heart. It was quickly sucked back out when he strayed from her and she knew. There was no forgiveness for her. "I want to but…" He wanted to say he needed to know everything, needed her to go through every detail and explain herself but he never got the chance.
When she saw the hesitation on his face, she panicked. There was no doubt to her now that everything she had with him, with this place, was irreversibly tainted. Breaking out of her fetal position, she pushed into him, forcing him back. Jumping from her chair, she ran for the elevator. Stunned, it took Scott a moment to realize what she was trying to do. Scampering to his feet, he took off after her. Hearing him advance, she pushed herself as far as she could go. Skidding before the doors she frantically began pressing the button, small, barely audible pleas falling from her lips.
A scream thundered through her when Scott reached her before the doors could slide open. His strong arms grasped her shoulder, spinning her around so suddenly she only had a moment before she was pushed against his chest. Grasping her arms tightly he snapped, "What the hell are you doing?"
Rogue thrashed in his arms, twisting and turning trying to get free. She couldn't be here, couldn't withstand the downfall that had already started. Scott shook her slight form again demanding to know what she was doing. The noise was sure to attract attention and she knew her options were running low. Suddenly her thrashing stilled and she bowed her head away from him.
"Rogue?" he questioned, his confusion reigning.
Swallowing hard she slowly tilted her head up to meet his eyes. What he saw had no explanation, it was guilt, desperation, pleas for forgiveness and for reasons he would soon learn, desire and a coldness that forced a shiver down his spine. The emerald green in her eyes grew as dark as the forest and a slender hand inched its way up his arm. Scott couldn't think, could barely breathe. The girl before him was no longer his Marie, his friend. He didn't know what she was but when her agile hand weaved its way to the back of his neck and began to knead the muscles there, he didn't care anymore.
Transfixed, he watched as her luscious tongue slowly gave her parched lips much needed moisture. In that moment he was lost and the dangers never crossed his mind for a moment as she slowly lowered him towards her. Mindlessly his hands found her waist, pulling her to him. Soft and incredibly sweet breaths washed over his face and his eyes fell away from her shadowed ones to her glistening lips. One broad hand glided up to her tender shoulder blades, demanding she close the distance before he did. A breath away from her target Rogue breathed out a soft, "Sorry." And before he could digest it, her poisonous lips found his.
Tears formed in her eyes. She was committing the ultimate betrayal, using her powers against a fellow mutant. And worst of all she was enjoying it, the feel of his soft satiny lips on hers, the feel of actual human touch, it was almost too much to bare. Jubilee's theory was affirmed when he parted her lips, demanding entrance, a move that was reserved for lovers. That move killed her because she knew now, knew that he cared for her beyond the title of friendship. Because she was using that against him. Because it was then that her mutation took hold of him.
Her mind screamed as the connection opened up, his mind searing into hers, devouring her own thoughts with his. They screamed of a love for her unmatched, a need for her and the absolute heartbreak she'd created within him with her betrayal. She felt his realization and squeezed her eyes shut trying to drown out his cries for mercy. Her skin bulged, horrid blue veins puncturing her porcelain flesh, she felt it and knew it was mirrored on his face.
Scott tried to pull back, tried to free himself from her poisonous hold but his strength was already faltering. Disbelief overwhelmed him, a struggle to comprehend how she could do this to him. How…why? She heard the questions in her mind and felt one foot fall into her grave, a grave she was digging for herself. The mechanic sound of doors opening managed to filter into her jumbled mind.
Unable to just sit back any longer, impatient beyond all belief, Logan had decided to check on Scott. What he found when he turned into the hallway floored him and he bellowed out, "Marie!"
She shoved Scott's weakened form onto the floor, her eyes instinctively flinging open. She should have thought it through, should have seen it coming. But when her eyes opened, all she saw was crimson red blazing before her like wild fire. A surge rumbled through her and she screamed, quickly ramming her eyes closed again. It was too late, the unstable bright light had burst forth. It weaved and scavenged down the hall. No rhyme or reason went into its movements and without warning it collided full force with Logan's massive chest. The sound of his grunt and his metal-laced body being thrown into the back wall rang through Marie's ears.
She screamed again and quickly fell to her knees. Blindly crawling over to Scott, her trembling hands found his heaving chest. Tears rampaged down her cheeks as she fumbled for his glasses. Scott squirmed at the feel of her on him and watched with trepidation when she reached for the ruby-quartz glasses resting on his face.
"No," he murmured, grabbing at her hands, no longer caring about the wounds or the brace.
She easily wretched her hands out of his and grasped the shades. "Close your eyes, sugah," she pleaded, waiting barely a second before taking his security from him. Putting on the oversized shades she forced herself to glance down the hall. Logan's crumbled body, leaning heavily against the wall brought forth the need to vomit. Her chest tightened as she looked back at Scott. The only joy she gained was that he was still breathing and even moving though he was sluggish. He tried to speak, over and over again his mouth opened to say something, anything. Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on his temple and he jerked away from the gesture, tearing her up inside.
Brushing at the overflowing tears, she trudged herself onto her feet and stepped back into the elevator that had opened sometime during her attack… Her attack… She'd attacked them. She had literally attacked two of the few people in her life she'd ever trusted completely. Hatred for herself, disgust, venomous anger, raged within her trembling body. Every word her father had ever thrown her way was now concrete in her mind. She was the monster he'd made her out to be. A horrid, disfigured monster.
Logan's sluggish form struggled to remove himself from the wreckage she had created. Time lagged and slowed to an aching lull as he tripped on his own feet and hit the floor so soundly he let out a deep yelp. Rogue stumbled back into the elevator, moving solely on autopilot. Tears streamed in rivers, merging at the base of her chin and dropping off into oblivion. Her jutting shoulder blades collided with the back of the cylindrical elevator, her trembling hand reaching out and slamming into the close-door button. As the metal started to merge together Logan finally found his bearings and dashed forward, trying to reach her before she was lost completely. Practically jumping over Scott's slumped form on the cold hard ground he hit the doors just as the last centimeter was swallowed whole. For a sliver of a second his pleading eyes found hers, encased in rubies, and she bowed away.
"No!" Logan screamed, banging on the doors, denting the metal with the force of his desperation. Panicked, he moved to the elevator button, punching at it over and over again.
Inside the tube, Rogue mimicked him, her tiny fists meeting heavily with the curved wall behind her, the tears falling even quicker. Sob after sob racked through her and when the doors opened to the first floor, she sprang out, launching herself towards the front doors, her vision blurred and her steps staggering.
Dropping to Scott's side, Logan grimaced. Grabbing at his arm, Logan started to lift Scott off the ground.
"No," the wounded leader croaked. "I'm fine, go after her."
"Scott," Logan cursed his name.
"I'm fine!" The weakened man cried, tearing himself out of Logan's hold. "Go!"
Logan was torn between wanting to help his fallen friend and chase after the crumbling girl. The choice was taken from him when Storm's flowing white hair caught his sight. Jerking to a stop she almost fell over herself at what she found lying before the elevator doors.
"Ororo!" Logan called to her, gesturing to Scott.
Springing to the wounded man's side, she rushed out, "I have him, go, get Rogue."
No other words were needed as Logan shoved off the ground and pounded once more the elevator's button. He burst into the compartment when the doors peeled apart just enough to let him through. Quickly he repeated his treatment to the close-door button. Swear after swear poured from his lips, no hesitation rising when the doors opened. Sprinting madly towards the foyer, he barely missed the groups of teens still gathered there. His pace slipped when he caught a whiff of fresh air, noticed the open front door and shocked looks from the teens.
"Damn-it!" The angered Wolverine roared, scrambling out the front door and down the steps before the adrenaline pumping through his veins vanished.
Sniffing the air, her familiar and comforting scent wound its way into the garage and his heart sank. Peeling down the driveway towards the garage, he didn't bother with the door, smashing his heavy body into the wood, splitting it apart.
Moment's before, she had rushed into the garage, trembling hands locking the door behind her. Breathing ragged, heart pumping, she raced to the wall of keys and searched wildly for the right ones. Each mismatch was tossed aside angrily, creating a pile of keys on the floor. Frantically she swatted at the keys, begging and pleading to find the right one. A flustered curse fell from her lips as the last key came tumbling down. It wasn't here. They must have hid it on her, to prevent her from taking his truck again. White-hot tears flowed and she growled deeply, kicking at the fruitless keys piled up on the cold hard concrete.
That's when she heard it, the soft but distinct sound of a little bell. The bell she'd placed on Logan's keys to prevent him from losing them as often as he did. Gasping in relief she kicked again and the sound resonated, flowing from behind her. Turning around she found her treasure resting at her feet. Reaching with a quivering hand, she grasped the keys and raced to the front of the massive garage. Bumping into the side of the truck, she clasped the keys in her shaking hand and attempted to place them in the keyhole.
It was pointless, the trembles flowing through her body kept making her hand jump whenever she got close, scratching and tearing at the paint around the keyhole. Holding her face in her hand, she let out a hiccuped sob and then a high-pitched and completely guttural scream when the door to the garage was splintered apart. Grabbing hold of the door handle, she squeezed it tight in her hands, unwilling to turn around. She jerked when Logan let out an earthy growl.
"You running?" he snapped, unable to push aside the anger. It was flowing through his veins, mingling with his blood and there was no getting past it.
Her hold on the handle strengthened and her back remained facing him.
Logan's arms crossed in anger and he took a generous step towards her. "You don't actually think I'm going to let you?"
Taking her hands off the handle she silently pocketed the keys and started to assess her situation. Logan was pissed and for him to be pissed with her, only meant that everyone else was even madder. She had to think and fast.
"Look at me when I talk to you!" he spat. The anger he harbored wasn't because of what she'd done, he was mad that she'd lied, that running had been her choice. All he wanted was for her to stay and to deal with what was happening. He didn't know that his tone was making her want to run even more, didn't think that his words could fuel it.
Forcing herself to stand tall and ignore the salt marking her face, she turned slowly.
The bright glare from the now stolen shades threw him off. "How could you do that to Scott?" he asked, reaching for the shades.
She backed away sharply, hitting the cab of his truck. Protected by the visor, she allowed her gaze to fall to her now ungloved hand. She berated herself for even thinking it but her choices had run out.
"Yah don't understand," she finally whispered.
"Obviously!" he cried, gesturing hotly with his hands. "I don't get a damned thing!"
"Stop…" she voiced softly.
"You have this whole different life that I don't even know about!"
"Please stop…" she begged.
"I thought that you trusted me, I thought that we had something!" His voice rose higher and higher.
"Just stop…" she pleaded, a little louder this time.
"I don't even think I know you anymore!" he bellowed, viciously.
"Stop it! Just stop it!" she shrieked.
"Why? Is the truth stinging? It tends to do that," he quipped, sarcasm lacing his words heavily. "You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, so get your ass inside now!"
"No…"
"No?" Logan's head titled to the side, his brow rising swiftly. Shaking his head, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Reaching out to grab her arm, his hand unwittingly fell against her bare skin. She fought it, cursing herself for having taken off the glove in the first place. His hold tightened when she tried to wretch away from him.
"Get off!" she yelled, growing more frantic as her curse started to kick in.
Logan didn't seem to notice as he started to drag her towards the destroyed exit. She pulled against him, planting her feet against the ground. It proved pointless, his strength exceeding her own. Through her tainted vision of the word she spotted the veins on his arm starting to rise. Their color was red to her shaded eyes but she knew them and screamed.
"What the hell is your -" Logan's voice cracked as the lines in his face formed and he choked on the vowels. He felt his powerful strength flow from his body and into hers. Eyes wide, he stared down at his bare hand on her arm. He released her in a jerky motion and backed away as if he'd been burned. When his eyes found hers, all she found was accusation and pain. "How could you?" he muttered. He groaned, swayed and then stumbled to the ground.
"Ah… Ah… Ah didn't… Ah didn't mean ta!" she reasoned, backing away from the guilt shining in his eyes.
His hazel eyes fought to focus as the drain continued to weigh him down. Sinking further into the floor, his pain-stricken face bared into her. "Marie?" he whispered, his vision shifting from dark to light.
"Ah-Ah'm sorry!" she cried, swiveling her body into the cab of the truck, she worked the keys into the lock and with barely even a thought, shoved herself in. Turning the engine over, she glanced back at Logan's form slowly succumbing to what she had caused. A sob tore through her as the little amount of powers she'd taken from started to knit her hands back together. Tearing the plastic brace from her healing hand, she forcibly tossed in to the other side of the cab. Sobbing soundly she ripped out of the garage, barely even conscious of the fact that she'd just barreled through the garage door, decimating it into fire wood.
Crumpled on the cold stone floor Logan was forced to watch as his truck peeled away, taking one of the only things that ever mattered to him with it.
Author's Note: OMG! Heh, so I've just messed things up. What can I say, if you don't understand why she took such drastic measures tell me and before the next chapter I'll explain as best I can. It all makes sense up here :taps forehead:
jupiterhime: Thank you for the vote of confidence, I was seriously starting to question myself. More so after this. You're right of course about poetic license, just don't tell that to a few of the Voyager fanatics. I tried once and almost lost my head, its was like feeding time at the piranha take and the boys hadn't been fed in a week. More Scott? Was that enough? hehe
April: You really like the twists even though they're slowly killing you cause of the cliffhangers? Sorry for this one, honestly I can't end a chapter without one.
Ankle: Aww, that's incredibly sweet of you, it's good to know I have some converting abilities, thanks!
cari: I'm glad you're liking, five days isn't too long of a wait is it? The next may take longer cause I haven't started it yet. I'll try not to make you wait.
Tara: If you could see me now you'd see a big ass smile on my face. You're review was short but damn if I didn't love every word of it. Keep an eye on that heart of yours, there's gonna be a few more evil twists up ahead.
Melarien: Two more words: LOVE YOU! Hehe
Shaishe: Hopefully this is can ease your curiosity until the next chapter, or it may just fuel it… Thank you for the love, I can never get enough of it.
Once again I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews, I live for them and they make my writing go faster. Thank you
