Sorry for the wait, folks. Computer went down on me at the wrong moment and my next few chapters got erased will I was sectioning them up. I'm mostly back on track now.
For those of you who are wondering: Rogue and Logan will likely end up together, I'm willing to say that much, but I have a pretty full story already, and you'll have to just ride it out with me if you want to get to that. I wrote this purely because I daydream and I simply like to write. I'm posting it because I figured, why not? So, respectfully, If all you were looking for was a pairing of them, you might've come to the wrong place.
Now, on with the story! :)
...
"Somethin' about all this seems fishy to meh."
"Things with Victor are always fishy."
"Yeah, but this times different, we found this place too easy."
"I know. This hellhole ain't his den. He was just usin' the place to crash."
Something itches at the edges of her mind. Something..something in the air.
A board creaks, so soft she only just hears it. She and Logan both spin around to face eachother, brown eyes meeting hazel.
"S'not him." Logan says with certainty. "He'd have come to face me by now."
Rogue peers around the decrepit, dimly lit cabin, breathing deep. "Feral."
"What?"
"Don't you smell it? Might not be him but it is a..."
Logan catches it just as another board creaks. "Feral." He finishes for her quietly, and then presses a finger to his lips. Shh.
More boards creak, Rogue can almost hear scampering footsteps. Awful lot of them, maybe multiple sets? She stays put as Logan's eyes flush gold and he wanders off further into the cabin. Rogue can sneak too, but not well enough to creep up on another feral.
More boards creak. Rogue whirls around, heart pounding hard in her ears, hackles raising, fists clenching as the ghost of a strange kind of itch starts up in her knuckles, muscles tensed as she readies to defend herself...
Oh.
A small, slim figure in a ragged but clean old dress. She freezes, eyes wider than a deer in headlights, the slightest of gasps escaping her lips.
Before Rogue can make a move to reach out to the poor, terrified thing, the Wolverine reappears and places one large hand on the kit's shoulder. He doesn't appear to be trying for intimidating, the look on his face is one of bewilderment, but he's so large and scruffy that the kit takes one look at him and darts from his loose grip like a rabbit. She bounds across the room in a few silent strides, latches onto Rogue's leg, and hides herself behind the Southerner with a whimper. Rogue, in turn, without having to think about it, reaches down and runs a soothing hand through the girls hair, her strokes gentle and slow so as not to scare the kit further. She's tall but so thin it's hard to tell how old she is. "S'alright, little one. Ah know he looks scary but he ain't gonna hurt yah."
Wolverine eyes Rogue oddly.
"What?"
He opens his mouth, shuts it, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Somethin' to talk about later, maybe. S'funny, thought I heard another one but -"
Before he can go on, a slightly bigger and far wilder blur falls down from the balcony over head and lands right on Logan's shoulders. The next moments are chaos. Logan growls, his half-pint attacker snarls, there's much scratching involved, Rogue doesn't know what the hell to do, and the kit bursts into hysteric tears.
It doesn't last long though. One small but awful sharp claw manages to drag it's way across Logan's eye, Wolverine lets out an angry roar that's loud enough to shake the old cabins very foundations, the half-pint attacker is finally given pause, and then all is over. Wolverine snatches the boy up by the back collar of his shirt and holds him so the tips of his feet just barely touch the ground. He's about the same height as the girl but less frail; he looks about eleven. Just old enough that his mutations kicked further into gear. The girls just a late bloomer, perhaps.
The pup whimpers as he stares up at the much larger feral whose eyes he'd just tried to claw out. Angry desperation quickly turns to terror as he fully realizes what he's up against. "Don't hurt us. Please, don't hurt us."
The kit still clinging to Rogue's legs grows even more hysteric. Rogue leans down and picks the girl up, cradling her close, a sort of rythmic purr starting up from somewhere in her chest. She doesn't notice. But the girl instantly calms. "That's it, sweetpea." The Southerner croons. "Hush up, now, it's alright, I promise."
It takes Logan a moment, but he manages to cage the rage, helped in part by the sight of Rogue acting so maternal. "Not tryin' to hurt yah, kid," he barks at length to the squirming pup he's still got ahold of, "but yah ain't makin' it easy, just cool it."
"I will, I'm sorry, I thought, I mean, are you really not here to - to...?"
"If I wanted to hurt yah, you'd be hurtin' already." He sets the pup down. "What the hell are you two doin' hold up in a place like this? Where's yahr pack?"
The boy sniffs the air. "You guys're feral."
Rogue blinks. Had the pup just said... She opens her mouth to correct him. No, Logan's feral, I'm just poison. But then she finally takes note of the sound emenating from her own chest and the way it's soothed the kit in her arms right to sleep, and she shuts her mouth.
Logan doesn't miss a single beat. "Yeah. We're here lookin' for somebody else. His names Victor, yah know 'im?"
The pup blinks up at Logan and cocks his head in just the right way. Hazel eyes glint gold in the little bit of sunshine that makes it past the clouds to shine through a nearby window, highlighting pupils slit like a wild cats. Oh. Ooooh. "That's our Alpha's name." He glances back at the girl who's likely his sister and scrapes a hand through his hair. "Look, mister, I'm sorry I came at yah like that. Thing is our Paw's been gone for days. Don't know when he's comin' back, he never says."
"Let me guess. He told yah to bite first and ask question later if anybody came up here while he's gone."
"Naw. Mean, he told me to take care of my sister, but he never said nothin' about anyone comin' up here, didn't seem to think anybody would. Y'all startled me, is all." He bows his head, submissive. "Sorry, mister."
"How longs yahr Alpha been gone?" Rogue asks, quiet so as not to wake the kit.
"Dunno. Days."
"You eaten since he left?"
The boys looks down, clearly ashamed. "Paw taught me to hunt but I ain't too much good at it yet, couldn't find us much up here and I got no way to get us into town."
Rogue meets Logan's eyes; a silent conversation ensues with perfect clarity. They're in total agreement.
Rogue lays the kit in her arms down on the ratty couch set before the fireplace. "Come on, then. Yahr sister's too warm, means she ain't well. There any firewood out back?"
"Yeah, Paw made sure we'd have plenty of that."
Logan lumbers out the back door. Rogue watches through the window as he deliberates, sniffs the air, and wanders off into the woods surrounding the house. Makes sense. They're pretty far up in the mountains; he'd have an easier time hunting dinner down himself than they would making the trek back down for food just now, especially since it's starting to snow. Besides, the young ones are looking awful thin. Some hearty, fresh meat will probably do them a world of good.
"Any idea where yahr Paw went?" She asks the pup as he leads her outside to an old shed.
"There were men after us. They...they took our Mom. I'd guess Paw's lookin' for her. He's had us movin' all the time since they first came 'cause we're just little, not like the others."
So they have other siblings, all of which are old enough to fend for themselves. Rogue files that away.
"Sounds exhaustin'."
The boy shrugs. "Paw says once he comes back this time he's gonna find someplace for us to lay low a while. Tori's been gettin' sick on 'n off, like we all did for a while, but we're twins yah see, so she shoulda got strong like I am by now, I think Paw worries about her."
Tori being his twin, presumably.
"How longs yahr Paw really been gone?"
The boy glances at her, biting at his lip. "Yahr not gonna take us away, are yah?"
"Ah wouldn't dream of keepin' yah from yahr alpha." Rogue promises.
"He's been gone over a week. He's never left us that long before, 'specially not since Tori started gettin' sick."
"We'll figure somethin' out once my friend gets back. For now we need to get a fire goin'."
"Yes, ma'am."
...
"So what's our next move?" Rogue asks quietly, after the children are fed and put down to sleep for the night.
"Wait for it to quit snowin'." Logan answers. "Beyond that, I'm kinda still thinkin'."
"We need to make sure the kids've got enough food 'fore we do anythin' else. Can't just leave 'em here like they was before. I'm suprised Victor left 'em that way. "
"Pups a tough enough little thing, they'll be fine a few days more."
"Logan." She scolds. "The kit's sick and it's freezin' up here, the poor pup's gonna have enough on his hands just tryin' to keep that fire goin' strong. He's too young to be out there tyrin' to hunt on his own and yah know it. If yah don't go out and get them some more meat tomorrow mornin' Ah'll drain yah while yah sleep and do it myself, don't think Ah won't."
Logan huffs a growl. "Alright, alright. Jesus. I'll sniff them out some more food first thing. We should eat again too, come to think of it, I got a feelin' this ain't gonna turn out pretty."
"You know where Victor is, then?"
"Got an idea. Folks in that town we went through 'fore headin' up this way, you hear what some of them were talkin' about?"
"Yeah. Military men. Guns and black cars. That could be anythin', though."
"Well I'm bettin' it's what Vic was after. Could be wrong, s'all I got though."
"Yah may not be. S'the only thing that would make a lick of sense. But don't yah think we oughta call for some backup then?"
"I tried that already." Logan takes out the small flip phone Ororo had bought and forced him to start carrying. "Damn things don't work out here. Pups aren't gonna wanna leave here without their alpha, so unless you wanna stay up here..."
"We're out of better options."
"Yep."
Rogue heaves a sigh and nods. "Well, fine then." She takes one of her gloves off and holds out her hand, decisive.
Logan raises a questioning eyebrow.
She huffs. "Ah got enough control these days, Ah'm just gonna borrow yah healin' n' stuff. Ain't like it's the first time Ah've done it."
"Whens the last time you got sick, kid?"
"What?"
"Cold or a cough or somethin', I mean. Any kinda sick."
"Ah.. Ah dunno. Why's it matter?"
"Because it happens. People who aren't like me or Vic or Jamie, they get sick sometimes, it just happens. But I can't remember the last time I saw you catch cold. Actually, I can't remember the last time I saw yah scrape a knee or somethin', either."
"Ah've just been lucky, Ah'd guess. Can Ah have yah hand or not?"
He studies her hard. "I'll bet yah can make do without it."
"Well sure, Ah can kick some butt on my own if Ah need ta, but it sure's hell would make things easier!"
He scowls down at her pale little hand, deliberating. "No." He answers, more definitive. "Not this time, darlin'. You don't need another dose of me. What yah do need, is to go see Hank when we get home."
"What? Why? Logan, what are yah talkin' about."
"Because yah just should, alright, s'not like it's gonna hurt yah. Now c'mon, lets get some sleep."
...
It stops snowing overnight. The roads still aren't great to travel on, but the sun is shining, and conditions improve as they get further up the mountains. The people in the town below had been an openly vocal bunch, spilling the latest gossip to Marie, and to eachother whilst well within hearing distance of feral ears. They all knew where the installation was.
The reason why is overwhelmingly apparent from an easy mile away even.
"Right." Rogue begins checking off the list as they keep cover behind the tree line. "Cement walls. Razor wire. Steel gate. Guard shacks at consistent intervals all around the perimter, at least two guards posted at each. Two guard towers. One of them has what looks like a goddamned missile launcher mounted casually at the window. The others are packing assault rifles. Also, there's two feet of snow on the ground, and Ah'm wearin' all black."
"Mm." Loga grunts. "Not to mention the turrets mounted on top of those booths, they ain't interested in lettin' anyone within ten damned feet of that entrance. Startin' to think you were right. We oughta grab the kids and haul ass back to the mansion. We need backup."
She glances at him, scowling now. "You've gone up against worse odds."
He cocks an eyebrow.
Her face is stone. "Your memories are too stubborn to fade."
He huffs a growl and shakes his head. "Yah're not wrong, we could do it just the two of us. If you had body armour and we both had guns and I wasn't gettin' to old for this shit." He pauses a fraction of a moment, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "And if that guy didn't have a missile launcher. Trust me. Even if yah had my built-in armour plaitin'. Yah do not. Wanna play chicken with a missile launcher."
"No shit, Sherlock." Rogue rolls her eyes.
"An' watch yahr mouth, will yah? Nice girl like you shouldn't talk like that."
"Christ, Logan. Yahr not mah Daddy." He rolls his eyes, but doesn't dignify that with a response. She pauses a moment, thinking. "Yah know. Ah take that back, actually."
He stares at her, incredulous. "Yah do?" He asks flatly.
"Yep." She smirks. "Yah're right. Nice little southern girls don't talk like that. An' Ah am nothin' if not my Mama's perfect little belle. Ah know how we're gettin' in there. C'mon. We've got some plannin' to do. This'll take longer than we thought, but we're gonna get the job done. No help needed."
Logan's clearly skeptical, but he hands out a caveman grunt that passes for an assent and follows her back towards his truck.
...
"Ah, Darlin'. Yah know. I really didn't sign up for this."
"Ah know what Ah'm doin' Sugah."
"But I don't think I can..."
"Well, why not? Yah're gonna heal me all up in just a while, anyway!"
He scrubs a hand over the stubble coating his cheeks and chin. She likely heal right up either way, but that still doesn't make it... "It ain't like yah see in the movies, Darlin. S'really gonna hurt if yah want it to look that good."
"Yah think Ah've never taken a hit before? Jesus, Logan, Ah ain't made of glass, and Ah've seen yah and Jamie goin' at it in the Danger Room. She is a girl too, yah know." Her voice drips with sarcasm.
"Jamie comes back at me like a bat outta hell no matter how hard I accidentally hit the kid. Accidentally." It's only happened once. He's generally always in pretty good control of himself these days, his daughter's the one that gets a little too excited. "You... I just don't think I can do it, alright?" He barks.
"Fah Heaven's sake." And without any true warning, Rogue hauls back and sends a fist flying straight at his stomach.
"Shit!"
...
He knows she'll heal right up the minute he touches her skin-to-skin for more than half a second, just the same way he'd healed from the blow she'd delivered to his stomach.
(She knocked the wind clean out of him, he fell right on his ass. Was she always that strong? He really doesn't think so. She needs to have Hank check her out and thoroughly.)
It still doesn't make him feel any better about the nasty bruise around her eye. He'd knocked her out pretty clean for a minute there, he was close enough to the guard shacks to have several rifles and a missile launcher aimed at him before she came to and started babbling nonsense. He tried not to look down at her, but it was hard seeing as she was cradled in his arms and snuggling in close without a care in the world.
Anyway, he'd somehow managed to spin a relatively convincing story about their car breaking down, him hitting the road on foot to find help, and her being attacked by someone in the meantime. The guards had been skeptical but she'd done a good job of making herself look pretty ragged before having Logan add the final touch (to spite the fact his stomach had turned at the very thought, damn her.)
Anyway, after much debate, the guards had radioed their superiors, who were quick to answer based on the fact it was snowing outside again and there was a young, injured woman involved.
Rogue is resting comfortably in a hospital bed now, in an infirmary at the heart of the facility, bundled up warm and tight and sound asleep. The complex appears to be pretty massive and somehow self-sustaining, leading Logan to be just as curious as he is wary. What the hell is this place?
He glances down at her as she stirs a bit in her sleep. Does a double take. Rubs at his eyes, looks again. She'd had a bruise around her eye. Real nasty one, too. Right? Hadn't she? She should've, considering...
It's gone now. The skin around her eye is it's usual lovely shade of procelain, dotted here and there with freckles.
Is he going crazy? It's never out of the question.
It's getting later in the evening, and the number of busy-bee workers out in the hallway dwindles down to near none. A doctor slips quietly into the room, checks Rogue over some without waking her. "It's possible she may have a mild concussion, but she responded well enough to the doctor's earlier that we're not too worried, she knew the date and everything. The snow is supposed to stop sometime to night, we'll have a path cleared to take you down and into town come morning." She explains to Logan. "I'll have a cot brought in for you to sleep, you know, I can't imagine why they haven't brought one already." She shakes her head, sighs.
"Thanks, Doc." Logan answers, quiet.
He thinks about nabbing her for the next part of the plan but wants to wait until the place has gone more fully dark for the night, and besides. The woman smiles so sweetly at him. Once upon a time he may very well have had the stomach to reach for her if he needed to, but not anymore. Not now he's got a daughter of his own, especially.
Interesting, he thinks, in retrospect. It's not the first time by far that one of his affairs had produced a child but somehow, Jamie's the only girl to be brought into the mix so far on his end.
Rogue continues to sleep peacefully away. He settles in to wait it out a few more hours.
...
"Shit. Was that too much? Yah look like that was too much. Ah told yah to wake meh up first so's Ah wouldn't take too much!"
"Jesus, girl. Just give me a minute, I'm fine."
"What time's it?"
"Bout midnight." He gets up and lumbers across the room, a little wobbly, but that's normal after she touches him for any amount of time longer than five seconds. "An' we need ta hurry." He opens the door to the small closet across the room and pulls out the young nurse that had come in to check on Rogue; he's out cold but likely won't stay that way for very much longer.
"Perfect." Rogue replies upon seeing her victim. "Ah'll know just what to do."
.
-Elsewhere in the facility-
The screens are giving him a headache. There's just so damned many of them, and this facility has grown massive with all the levels below ground. He doesn't envy the poor bastards he pays to watch and patrol the halls for twelve hours at a time. No wonder there's been complaints of security growing lazy; it's enough he makes a mental note to check that his lower level guards are still being paid fair. He rubs his temples as he squints his eyes, forcing them to focus on the one with the two intruders.
"Uh. Commander Sanchez, sir." The newest recruit to his personal crew speaks up nervously. "Shouldn't we maybe be...?"
"We've got an eye on 'em, don't we?" Sanchez answers in his gravelly alto.
"Well, yes sir, but if they're after the prisoners you said their after...?"
"The memory wipe was finally completed on both of them this morning. The procedures success rate is ninety percent, I'm confident enough in those odds. No other reason we need to keep 'em, they were just protectin' their pack."
"But what if the intruders -"
"I have men at the ready for any given scenario." Sanchez cuts in firmly but patiently. "Not my first, second, or third rodeo, kid."
"Oh. Right. Of course not, sir. Sorry sir."
Sanchez waves the kid off as he continues to watch the two intruders make their way through a maze of hallways. "She seems to know where she's going. You still got those files on you, kid? Refresh my memory on these two."
The rookie clears his throat; shuffles some papers. "Right. Ok. She's called Rogue, sir."
"What kinda name is that?"
"Nom de guerr, sir. We don't know her real name. The exact mechanics of her mutation are unknown, just that she seems to somehow be able to steal knowledge from people, as well as mutations from other mutants. She's been labeled for some time as a possible addition to our ranks, I'd have to dig a little to find out why nothing's been done about that, our file on her is a mile thick. As for him..." More shuffling of papers. "We had more on him but the files apparently burned up in a fire just before they began transferring them to a computer. His names James Logan, alias Wolverine. Ah. Not sure about his mutation. There's just a note citing him as being extremely dangerous. There's standing orders not to engage him unless it somehow becomes absolutely necessary. Oh. One new bit of intel; the Fletcher girl is actually his daughter."
"He's a feral then." Sanchez answers, nodding. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Well, lets hope they'll get what they're lookin' for and leave quiet. I don't fancy the idea of makin' a mess of things while tryin' to put them down, too much damned paperwork. Oh. And get ahold of Ms. LaBelle for me. Tell her to go ahead and make contact with the Fletcher girl but choose her words. I don't wanna go upsettin' anymore feral mutants."
.
"This way."
"You sure about this, darlin'?"
"There's some kinda control room just up ahead."
They stop just as they come to the last turn they need to make, peering around the corner. There's three guards. Logan sighs. "Don't s'ppose you'd stay here while I take care of this."
"Awww, c'mon Logan, Ah ain't made of glass."
"They've got guns. All you got is a little too much of me stuffed into your pretty little head."
"And you're healin'."
"Bullets still hurt, you know."
She huffs. "What happens if they shoot yah and then manage to sound an alarm? Better we work together."
She's right, but he doesn't have to like it. He just scowls.
She huffs (it sounds suspiciously like a half-growl). "You wanna get Victor outta here, or not?"
He thinks on that a minute. Heaves a long-suffering sigh. "Don't got much choice, considering things. An' he is overdue for an ass-kickin', assumin' these guys ain't given him one already."
"Well then shuddap and let's just do this, bub." And without giving him time to argue further, she slips around the corner and begins creeping her way down the dimly lit hallway.
"Was that me 'r you talkin', kid?" He grumbles to himself. "Jesus, I'm gettin' too old for this shit." Logan scrubs a hand over the stubble coating his cheeks and chin, exasperated. But he's got no options now, so he follows her.
He knows there's cameras hidden along the hallways, and had been wondering how he and Rogue hadn't been noticed yet. He's beginning to understand now though. The guards in the control room are all just kids. The guns they're carrying are just tasers. Two are on their phones, one has headphones in, the third has his feet up on the control board before him and is sound asleep. None of them looks to care too much about the job they're meant to be doing.
Logan still gets the feeling he and Rogue are being watched, though, and it puts him on edge. Someones letting them through on purpose, and he'd like to know why.
(He also notes that he can hardly hear Rogue at all. She creeps down the hall making scarcely a sound and looking downright predatory. Had she taken that much from him earlier? He doesn't feel like she did. This seems like it's about 25% a fresh dose of him, and 75% Marie moving like, sounding like, overall kinda just acting like she's...
Like she's going to see Hank, whether she likes it or not.)
Rogue enters the room first and reaches for the guy on his phone closest to the door; her hand (gloved, of course) snakes up and cups itself firmly over his mouth and nose. He struggles, but she holds him with her borrowed feral strength. Snatches the taser out of his belt and stuns the girl with headphones in as she turns around. Hits her other captive over the head with the taser, hard; that's one down.
Logan sneaks up on the the third kid just as he startles awake; he's scrawny, easy to restrain and silence at once.
"Alright, just listen." Logan rumbles into the kids ear. "My friend here's clearly feelin' a little trigger happy. So I'd cooperate if I were you. We're lookin for a guy we're pretty sure you got locked up here somewhere. Big ol' bastard with sharp teeth, got a look in his eye like he wants to rip yer guts right out of yer belly and feed 'em to you. That's my brother, by the way, and he prob'bly does. I'm doubtin' you've missed him if he's here. Just tell us where he's at, and we'll only have to leave yah slightly injured."
As if on queue, the girl who'd been tased climbs to her feet with some difficulty and sends a shaky fist flying at Rogue, who counters the threat-but-not-really by lashing out with a fist aimed solidly at her opponents nose. The other woman, in turn, crumbles like a sack of potatoes.
That's two down.
Logan removes his hand from his captives mouth.
The kid gulps. "Who - who the hell are you people?"
"Yah're worst nightmare, peaches, but only if yah don't tell us where our friend is." Rogue answers, flippant, one hand planted on her hip now.
The kid eyes her, breaking out into a cold sweat. "Ok, ok..."
.
"Too easy, too easy, too easy." Logan grumbles continuously to himself as they enter the room. There's no other guards around but to be fair, the steel door Victor is supposed to be behind is bolted shut. It isn't likely that he'd manage to find a way out on his own.
Logan pops a claw and cuts the bolts like they're made of marshmellow, then pulls the door open to peer inside.
There's a long pause. Then... "Well. That's... unexpected." Victor's rumbling baritone floats out of the cell.
"You comin' or what, old man?" Logan replies.
Victor appears in the doorway, wary and tense but appearing no more scruffy than his usual. He eyes Logan up, and then Rogue, sniffing the air, almost as though he doesn't quite trust his own senses, but seems to come to a decision quick enough. "C'mon." He calls back into the cell. "We're gettin' out of here." Another moment passes and then a woman appears at his side, taking his hand. "My mate." Victor explains shortly. Seems fitting. The woman's an Amazon, dwarfing Rogue by a fair few inches.
"What the hell is goin' on here, Vic?" Logan asks, eyeing the woman up.
"I'd tell yah if I knew that myself, but I don't. We've got cubs nearby, do you know the way out of here, or not?"
"The cubs - you didn't happen to come across them by some chance, did you?" The Amazon adds in, clearly desperate with worry.
"We did." Rogue takes the time to answer, sympathetic. "They've been fed and are safe. There's a tunnel leadin' out of the facility and beneath the wall in case of emergencies, it ain't well guarded, we should be able to get out that way."
They make their way out with Rogue in the lead and Logan trailing behind a bit, glaring warily at the cameras on the ceiling above them. Too easy, too easy, too...
The tunnel is oddly long for all that the facility itself can only be so big. Walking it seems to take forever, especially since the space is a cramped one, but Rogue insists this is the way out. Sure enough, they do find the end, and though Logan has to put his claws to good use again, the motley little group does finally find themselves wandering out into the snowy forest just as dawn approaches.
For a moment they all just turn to stare at the massive, foreboding cement wall behind them, unable to believe they'd just made it out so damned easy.
"There're no guards at that post there." Victor's mate points out, hugging herself.
"They let us go." Logan mutters.
"Why the hell would they do that?" Victor asks, his tone suggesting he's not unbelieving, just heavily confused.
"Million dollar question, right there." Rogue says quietly.
Victor throws one large arm ove his mate's shoulders and begins leading her away resolutely. "C'mon. Cubs need they're Ma."
Logan follows them. Rogue's eyes catch on yet another camera, mounted on the guard post. She glares into it a moment, shivering for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold, and then stalks off after the others.
The feeling of being watched doesn't leave any of them for sometime afterward.
...
"Mama!" The kids race to the woman, nearly tackling her in their haste. Victor stays back and waits, patient; it isn't long before the kit pulls away from her mother and comes to hug him instead, burying her face firmly in his shirt. A daddy's girl. Huh. Who'd've thought?
Logan stuffs his hands in his pockets and wanders back out of the cabin. A little ways away, Rogue is leaned against his truck smoking a cigar. He has no idea where she'd gotten the thing. He'd smoked his last one over a day ago, having been so preoccupied he'd not thought to buy any more before trekking up the mountain. She holds hers out to him as he approaches, offering him a drag or two. He stairs at thing, studies her and how casually she handles it, and then thinks of Jamie and the trouble she'd found herself in days earlier.
His kit needs an Alpha. Which means Logan needs to start acting like an Alpha.
He waves off the offer. Rogue stares at him, though the only real sign of her suprise is a pair of raised eyebrows. She likely has things to say now, but after a moment she just shrugs and brings the thing back up to her own lips to smoke.
Victor slips out of the cabin and strolls through the snow. "Now, don't take this the wrong way, you saved our asses and I always give the devil his due. But how the hell did you know where to find us?"
"Tracked yahr path up here from a few towns over." Rogue replies when Logan doesn't. "Wasn't too hard, yah tend to leave an impression, and once we found the kids it was a piece o' cake. There weren't many other paths yah coulda taken up here. We jus' followed the one most well traveled. How'd y'all end up in that mess to begin with?"
Victor scowls.
"Yah don't know?"
"They fucked with our heads."
"D'you know that for sure?"
"Nothing else makes sense. Why were you lookin' for me, anyway?" Victor turns his attention to Logan. "Unless...the girl?"
Without an ounce of prior warning, Logan's fist connects with Victor's face. Hard. Enough so that the massive feral stumbles back and loses his footing, landing on his ass.
"Her names Carol James and you knew she was mine." Logan's voice is dangerously quiet.
Victor brings a hand up to ghost against his lips in clear suprise; it comes back dripping red. He spits blood into the snow beside him as the wounds begin healing over, and then starts laughing. "Damn. I missed you too, brother."
"You knew she was mine." Logan reiterates. "So what the hell were you thinking? You thought I'd just let it go?"
"What, the little dance we did? She's a fierce little thing, walked away just fine."
"She's walked away fine from worse since, I'm talkin' about you burnin' down her den, jackass!"
Victor climbs to his feet, the amusement behind his eyes fading to honest bewilderment. "What the hell are you talkin' about, Jimmy?"
Growing impatient, Logan reaches out and takes his brother by his shirt collar. "The cabin. It's burned to a husk, they're gonna have to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it, why the hell would yah do that to the kid?"
"I didn't." Victor answers simply.
There's a startled, confused pause.
"He don't smell like a liar." Rogue comments casually.
Logan blinks at his brother, and relaxes slowly. Victor pulls away.
Logan's arms drop down to his sides limply. "Oh."
Victor rolls his shoulders out, wiping the last traces of blood from his lip. "Any other bones you got to pick? I'll give yah another free hit since I owe yah one anyhow, but ah, that's all yah get."
Logan scowls, waving him off. "Go take care of your pack."
Victor almost looks disappointed, but walks back off and disappears inside the cabin.
Rogue puffs her cigar thoughtfully. "Well if he didn't burn the cabin down..who the hell did?"
"Add that to the list. Lets just get outta here already."
