He's been walking for hours. With every passing, roaring car, Logan raised up his hand. None of them stopped this time. After having had changed his mind about calling the Institute, Wolverine found himself almost reaching Chicago on foot. Most importantly, what was he gonna do now? He knew Creed was coming but now he was on the clock. At least he had a chance, Logan figured, another car passing by. For the very few times in his life, he was actually tired. Exhausted, even. Needless to say, he was forced to spend the night out, covered in his own brown, leather jacket. He was used to the weather, just not this way. Not like this. Not with the rain covering him in cold drops of water making him freeze and shiver

The next morning, he hitched a ride with some teenage hippies on their way to some rock concert. He didn't give a shit. The moment he found himself in their van, all he could do was warm up and have a beer. Everything else phased out. He hasn't been to Chicago in a while. Couple of years, actually

"Got a name, hairy?" One of the kids asked. She was alright. Seemed pretty zoned out with everything else going on around her

"Logan."

"I'm Ashley." She offered a hand. Wolverine glanced at it with a passive stare, then shook her hand

"So, whatcha' doin' in Chicago, Mr. Logan?" Ashley continued, taking a seat in the back of the van. Just near Logan. The man was soaking wet and had his nose slightly red. Least she could do is warm him up

He offered no response, taking another sip of his beer. With a raised brow, Ashley moved an inch or two away, folding her arms

"Ain' much into talkin', kid. No offence."

"No, no, none taken."

"Jus' seeing if I can meet up with an old friend, 's all."

She purches her lips up some, nodding as one hand travels to the back of her neck "Me and my friends are goin' to a concert. Maybe ye' wanna tag along?"

"I'm okay." Logan uttered, not looking at her. He'd finish his beer, and cozy up some "Wake me up when we're there."

This guy was weird. Usually hitch-hikers are mouthy high pricks that are either obnoxious or creepy. This guy was spooky, sure, but he didn't seem that bad. Ashley nodded, figuring the man had enough problems as it was, just offering a smile in return "Sure"

His sleep was dreamless and yet aggitated. How else could it be? Logan tossed and turned, making himself quite an annoyance in the van. But the kids weren't dumb enough to throw him out. A couple of times, he snarled and almost seemed as if he was about to punch the thin-air surrounding him. It was freaky. Four hours passed, and the group found themselves entering Chicago. It was night. And of course, raining. Not as heavy as before. Just drizzling. The van drifted off gently into a parking lot just outside Downtown

"'ight, we're here." The driver groaned out, hopping off out of the van. Ashley doozes herself up, having taken a nap of her own. They let Logan alone some few minutes as they waste time outside having some smokes. After which, Ashley grazed the doors from the van open, and attempted to poke Logan

"Mr. Logan?" There was no response, just a snarling huff as he turned around some. She did it again "Mr. Log-Agh!" Her words cut off as Wolverine jumped out of his sleep, his gaze suddenly bolting into a raging red-eyed glare, reaching for her throat and tackling her out of the van. The other kids yelped up and freaked as Logan popped out his claws, black over his eyes. All he could see is rage and fear

"What the fuck?!"

"Holy fuckin' shit!"

She grunted and screamed, Wolverine pausing as he started to come together. His claws retracted, and he immediatly crawled off Ashley, who was crying and felt her heart pound almost out of her chest

"What the- I'm... shit! A- agh! Fuck!" Logan grunted, eyes wide. This hasn't happened to him in years. And right now, he had no idea what to say to the kids. He leaped up to his feet, and attempted to help Ashley up

"Get away from him!" She screamed at him

Logan pulled back. His sight shot from one kid to the other, and all he could do is reach for his bags and take off. As fast as he could. He had no idea where to go. What to do. But just what actually did he think he was doing? Trying to be normal? Or trying to run away from normal? Just thinking about it, for all of his 100 years, and more, he's spent his life hunting. Tracking. Killing. The only time he hasn't done that was when he was a kid, a sickly little boy named James Howlett. And right, it wasn't so different. Logan sneezed, and grunted as he got out of the van, and made his way into Chicago