Disclaimer: I really really want to own Logan...I can't tell you how much...But I don't, nor do I own anything else that's directly from the X-Men universe/comicverse/movieverse. That distinction goes to Marvel and Fox...dammit.
Chapter 9.
(Logan)
From Detroit to Toledo, including all the stops we'd made, the whole trip only took about four hours. The way I felt, it seemed more like four days. Angela was still curled up in the passenger seat and staring out the window, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. In a way, the silence was worse. Her scent was a combination of worry and despair. I vowed to never mention splitting up again.
It was just after 3:00 P.M. when I found a motel for us to stay in. I decided that it was best to avoid the big chain places, but I knew there was no way I could get her to agree to something that also offered hourly room rates. But the little places don't always ask for I.D. and that was the case here. I paid the clerk in cash, he gave me the key to our room (number 19) and I drove down to park in front of it. Angela was still silent as we got our things out of the car, still lost in her own little world. I had to snap her out of this black mood and quick, it was getting on my nerves.
I unlocked the door and she preceded me into the room, turned on a light and moved towards the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and dropped my pack on the table that was under the window next to the door. I moved further into the room and just stood there looking at Angela's back. This was new territory for me, I wasn't used to being in the position of comforter for someone who was in as much pain as she was. Hell, I can't even remember the last time I was in a motel room with someone I actually gave a shit about. I took off my jacket and tossed it on the low dresser, catching my reflection in the mirror there. Just like every time before, someone who seemed so much like a stranger to me looked back. I scowled at myself and turned away.
Angela finally turned and looked at me. We stood there for a few seconds, just staring. The next thing I knew, she closed the gap between us and we fell on each other like a starving man at a feast. I buried my hands in her hair, kissing her hard enough to bruise, while she literally tore the shirt off my back and I pushed her down onto the bed. I stopped kissing her long enough to pull back and look into her eyes, but she grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me back down to her mouth. I started kissing and nipping her all down her neck, but she dug her nails into my back and sank her teeth into my shoulder. I growled and closed my eyes and that's when the memory of our first time together came rushing back to me in all its glory.
It didn't stop me in the present situation, far from it. I was still coming down from the adrenaline rush of our skirmish at the roadblock, not to mention from the very real possibility of pursuit. I'm sure she was feeling the same things. But for the first time since I wandered into her bar, I was able to connect the woman beneath me with the woman she'd told me about. It was my first clear memory of her and I embraced it and her with a fierce protectiveness. She was mine.
A few hours later, we dozed off in a tangle of damp sheets and sweaty limbs. It would seem natural that following a workout like the one we'd just been through, I would sleep without dreams. But since we'd also just narrowly escaped God knows what in Detroit, my mind wasn't as restful as the rest of me. On the other hand, one would expect me not to dream of the torturous procedure that made me the freak I am today, but the sweeter dream of Angela and I, stranded in a snowbound cabin in the Canadian wilderness. But my mind is a vast landscape filled with darkness and that one bright memory wasn't enough to keep that darkness away.
I came out of sleep with a jolt, a barely strangled scream on my lips, claws out and thrashing away the blankets that felt like they were holding me down. It took me a couple seconds to realize that Angela was no longer in the bed with me, but on the floor clutching a towel to her leg and swearing a blue streak. I retracted my claws, rolled off the bed and crouched on the floor next to her.
"Oh God, Angela I'm sorry!" I said as I knelt in front of her and tried to help her with the towel.
"It's all right, just a flesh wound. Be gone in a couple hours." She replied, her voice tight.
I pulled the towel away from her leg and she clenched her teeth and hissed. Now, the term "flesh wound" has a pretty narrow definition when it comes to normal humans. From what she'd told me, she could take a much deeper wound and it would be no worse for her than a normal flesh wound. There's no such thing as a flesh wound for me; I heal everything. When I got a good look at what I'd done to her, I felt myself go pale. I don't care what she said about it, a cut that went almost all the way to the bone wasn't a flesh wound, more like a "deep laceration". It hadn't hit any major blood vessels, but it was an extremely enthusiastic bleeder, very deep in the muscle of her calf.
"Flesh wound?" I growled. "I damn near took your leg off and you call it a 'flesh wound'?" I tried to apply more pressure, but she hissed in pain again and unexpectedly slashed her claws across my chest. I let go of her leg and jumped to my feet. The cuts she left across my chest disappeared almost immediately, leaving only a few trickles of blood to show they'd ever been there at all.
"Yes, flesh wound. Maybe not as flesh wound-y as the ones I just gave you, but flesh wound all the same. It'll be gone in a couple hours, just leave me the hell alone."
I backed off, found my jeans and pulled them on. I paced at the foot of the bed, worried as all hell that she'd bleed out before it healed over enough. I must have asked, "How is it?" every five minutes before she finally pulled the towel away almost two hours later. I knelt down next to her to inspect it. The bleeding had stopped; it was almost closed and I watched in fascination as it completely healed over the next twenty minutes. I ran my finger along where it had been, feeling only smooth flesh under the blood that remained.
"Damn, it's just like watchin' mine in slow motion." She nodded, letting out a sigh. I continued running my finger over her leg when something dawned on me. I snapped my head up and looked her in the eye. "This is why you died when they gave you the metal, isn't it? They cut you open, did what they could til you bled out, then waited til you came back around for another process, didn't they?"
She closed her eyes and nodded again. "Yeah, they did." She shuddered in remembered pain. "I never imagined pain like I felt when they did this to me. Sometimes it wasn't even bleeding that did me in, it was heart failure."
I could feel the animal raging to be let out. "How many times?" I said through gritted teeth.
"Six, I think. Maybe eight. It's all kind of a big painful blur."
A growl escaped my lips and I stood, resuming my pacing at the foot of the bed. "Stryker is so lucky he's dead. I wish I could bring him back just so I can kill him again for puttin' you through that. Slowly."
"Yeah, I hear what you're saying. But he is dead, we can't bring him back so we just have to move past it." She stood up, her legs still a little shaky and tossed the bloody towel into the bathroom before sitting on the edge of the bed. "After they did it, all I wanted was revenge. It didn't even matter if I got out of there, as long as he was dead right along with me. I used to take my rage out on the people he wanted taken care of, even though it wasn't nearly enough. It only made me feel better for a little while. It got to the point where the only things keeping me going were Emma and revenge. Well, for a while at least."
"Until she died?"
"No, until you came along."
I stopped in my tracks, shocked. "What?"
"You came along. I wanted you from the first time they dragged you into that place. I wanted you more after the first time we sparred. I wanted to dig my claws into you and never let go." I moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to her, staring. "After you came along, the only things that kept me going were Emma, revenge on Stryker and you."
"Then Emma died…" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"And all I had left was you and revenge. And I thought I lost you that day we escaped. I didn't think I could bring you back around enough to realize you were alive, much less fully human. That blizzard was a blessing in more ways than I can count." She swallowed and tears were again standing in her eyes. "That's the real reason I owe you my life, you know. If you hadn't been there, I would have killed myself. I would have sliced myself open and waited for the wolves to come and tear me apart."
She blinked and two huge tears rolled down her cheeks. I reached over and gathered her into my lap, wiping away her tears with my thumbs. I still didn't have much of her to remember from before, but the stuff I had of her now was affecting me on a deep primal level. This woman in my arms was mine, mine for life. It wasn't something I wanted to be true, it simply was true. And the fact that it was such a primal feeling scared the living shit out of me. This was my animal claiming its mate.
I held her for a long time, then gently lifted her and laid her back down on the bed. I pulled my jeans off again and covered her body with my own. I didn't move or do anything for the longest time, I just stared at her, searching her face for answers to questions I couldn't put into words. I finally leaned down and kissed her and we didn't have any need for words for a very long time.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
You're crouched low in the shadows of an immense pine tree, the lower branches sagging all the way to the ground. Above you, perched on a branch, is your partner Hellcat. You're here to take care of a senator who is heading up a committee that investigates military spending for the United States. He's found some discrepancies in the weapons budget, expenses that will ultimately lead him to Alkali Lake if he digs much deeper.
Your mission is simple. Hellcat will be going in to take out the senator while he sleeps, then retrieve the files that he has hidden in this house. She's the one with the training in security systems, so that task is on her shoulders. Your job is to take out thefivehired security that he has patrolling the grounds of his hunting lodge. Of course, you don't remember seeing a hunting lodge that's surrounded by an eight-foot stone wall, but you admittedly don't remember much else, either. You shake off that thought as you scan the area with your heightened senses. Over the crisp pine scent, you smell the guard on the other side of the wall, the gun oil that was used on his weapon, faint traces of cigar smoke and Hellcat in the tree above you. She smells mostly of adrenaline along with the underlying spice of her own natural scent. You shake your head to clear it of those thoughts. She's your partner, no matter what your mind envisions when she's not around. Business and pleasure simply should not mix.
The branch above you rustles once, then twice. That's your cue. It means the guard closest to your position has moved out of range and it's time to go in. You hear the faint sound of her bare feet as they hit the stones of the courtyard beyond. She always goes into these things barefoot, so she doesn't have shoes in the way of the claws on her feet. She also says that shoes make it harder for her to move silently. Sure, you can hear her, but she's the only one who might have better hearing than you. You count to ten, then slowly ease your claws out of your hands and scale the wall.
The guard for this courtyard won't be back for at least another minute, so you make your way around the house in the opposite direction of him. You smell the next guard before you see him, a mixture of Scotch whiskey, gun oil and sweat. A few feet later and he comes into view, leaning against the trunk of a tree and pulling a cigarette out of a pack. You come upon him as quietly as you can, which is still quiet enough that he doesn't hear you. You reach around the slender tree trunk with one hand, covering his mouth and thrusting your claws into his side with the other, giving them a vicious twist before easing his body to the ground. You take his weapon and remove the clip, scattering the ammo into the underbrush. One down,four to go.
The next guard goes as quietly as the first. You approach the position where the third guard is supposed to be, only to find that he's chatting with another guard. You pause for a moment to quickly formulate another plan. Since stealth is best for a one-on-one fight, you decide to use surprise to take on these two. You wait one heartbeat, two, three and spring.
You tackle the first man from behind, ripping his weapon out of his hands and flinging it over the wall. The second man raises his weapon, but your leg is a blur as it flashes forward and up and you kick the gun away into the bushes near the house. You snake your arm around the throat of the man you tackled, cutting off his air as he struggles against you. The second man pulls something out of his boot, a long serrated knife with a dull, black blade. He rushes you and you turn and jerk your hostage in front of you. The man buries the knife into his belly all the way to the hilt, unable to stop his momentum before it was too late. The man you're holding grunts and goes limp, so you drop him and face the remaining guard.
He circles you warily, looking for an opening but you don't plan on giving him one. He feints once with the knife, springing back before you can get a hold of him. You know you don't have time to fuck around with this jerk, so you pop your claws out and his eyes go wide and the smell of fear suddenly permeates the air. But he's a good soldier, he'll stand his ground and try his damdest to take you out. You growl low in your throat and rush him, trying to bury your claws in his gut. Miraculously, he dodges most of it and brings his knife up between your ribs and you feel a burning in your lung. You twist away from him and he rips the knife out, dancing just out of your reach. You take a couple short breaths, then your body begins to repair itself and you can breathe normally again. You see that he's holding his stomach with his free hand, blood dripping between his fingers. You did manage to get a piece of him, it just wasn't big enough. Now he rushes you, but you hold your ground and wait for him to get within striking distance with his knife. He brings it up to stab you again, but you grab his wrist and twist into his arm, bring your elbow down on his forearm. It snaps like a twig, but before he can cry out, you rip your claws across his throat. Blood sprays across your face and he falls down, dead.
The sound of fighting reaches your ears and you whip your head around. A heartbeat later, you're running back to the courtyard where Hellcat is facing off with the last guard. You move in to assist her, but she's skillfully dodging everything he's trying to lay on her. He's already been disarmed of his gun, so he's only got his hands and feet to defend himself with. If he thought for even one moment that this tiny woman was going to be an easy fight, he's about to learn differently. You stop where you are to watch her as she twists, ducks and dances out of his way while landing vicious swipes of her own claws on his flesh. The guard makes a desperate grab for her, but she leaps easily over his head and comes down behind him, slashing his clothing and flesh to ribbons. He spins again and she brings one set of claws across his throat and the other across his face. Blood sprays her shirt as he falls to his knees with a grunt. She kicks him hard in the face, popping one of his eyes and he falls over. She stands over him, breathing hard and watching as the life slowly bleeds out of him.
You take a step towards her and she whirls around, immediately defensive, but relaxes when she sees that it's you. You walk over to her side and prod the corpse with your toe. "He was early."
"Yeah. But I hate this covert shit anyway, I'd rather dance with these assholes." She gives you a quick once-over, noticing that you're covered in blood. She knows not much of it could possibly be yours, but she still asks.
"Fuckin' asshole kept comin' after I gutted him. Bled all over me and managed to stick me in the ribs."
"Are there any more?" She asks, moonlight reflecting in her eyes. By the look in them, she's hoping you'll say yes. You almost feel sorry to disappoint her.
"Nah, I got 'em all. Most of 'em weren't that hard to take out." You look around the courtyard. "You get the other shit?" She pats the papers that are still safe under her shirt. "Then we're done. Let's get the hell outta here."
You both make your way over the wall and back to the campsite you set up a few miles away. For all intents and purposes, it looks like a couple of backpackers just decided to rest here for the night before moving on. There's nothing around to indicate a military presence of any sort. As part of the cover you only have one tent, but that's typical of this kind of mission. Unfortunately, it also means that you have to sleep all night within arm's reach of Hellcat, a feat that's getting more and more difficult as time goes by. It's bad enough that she's gorgeous, but a decent fight always gets you worked up and unless there's more fighting, a good fuck is the best thing there is to work off the adrenaline. She goes to the tent and places the files in a special waterproof packet, returning a minute later. She pokes at the campfire that you had earlier, but there's not enough combustible material left in it to make it blaze up again.
The campsite is near a stream and since you're sick of the smell of blood, you strip down and wade into the frigid water up to your waist to clean off. You make so much noise with your splashing that you didn't hear her when she came up to the bank to do the same. You duck your head, scrubbing at your hair to get all of the blood out and come back up with a gasp. When you do, your eyes settle on Hellcat.
She's stripped to the waist, scrubbing the blood off her arms and chest. You know you should look away, but the moonlight is coming through the trees and shining off her skin like liquid silver. She ducks her head and arms under the water, then comes up with a gasp and tosses her head back. Her hair flies in an arc, splattering droplets of water all around her. She lifts her face and you realize she's looking right at you, barelyfour feet away from her. You both sit there for what feels like forever, just staring at one another. Water trickles down her throat and a strand of hair is hanging just over her right eye. You open your mouth, wanting to say something but you can't find any words. You break the spell by lowering your eyes and wading back out of the stream. You retrieve your clothes and return soundlessly to the tent.
A few moments later, she comes in after you. You lay there with your back to her side of the tent, trying to control your breathing so she'll think you're asleep. You listen as she settles herself in and wait for her own breathing to even out. Once you're certain she's sleeping, you roll back over and just look at her.
She'll never know that you watched her sleep for the rest of the night.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
AN: So, i've noticed that i'm not getting so many reviews as before...reviews make me happy and inspire me to update more quickly! Thanks to RhiannonUK and MidLifeCrisis for their support, you ladies rock! Also, special thanks to Zac and Turiel Tincdaniel, my beta readers, for making sure this thing still reads well. And last, but not least, love to the Big Kitty (who may or may not see this) for his regular badgering of me to write more and write it now! You're silly, but i loves ya anyway!