Damn seatbelt.
Logan restlessly tried to pull the seatbelt away from his body, but its automatic locking system held it firmly in place, digging into his collarbone. He thought about slicing it, but a quick lurch of the jet made him think better of it.
He knew it wasn't the seatbelt that was keeping him worked up. But to hell if he wouldn't blame it anyway.
It had taken way too damn long for the Professor to get a hold on Marie's mind. Every hour he'd return to Cerebro and try—and each time he would have a slightly better calculation of where she was.
But it wasn't enough to fly after her. Xavier had first picked her up somewhere in Virginia.
Literally, somewhere in the fucking state of Virginia, almost ten hours since she'd disappeared.
That was helpful.
He kept trying, though, and each hour would show a bit more promise. At fifteen hours missing he'd pinpointed her location to a city: Birmingham, Alabama.
It definitely seemed as though she might be heading home, and Logan was pretty sure his lack of restraint was what pushed them to just fly to Meridian as a precaution. After all, the Professor could redirect them if need be.
So, almost nineteen hours since she'd been missing—or, at least since the idiots realized she'd been missing—the jet made a stealth landing in a rather large wheat field.
They had Marie's old address from when they first had been assigned to pick her up, years ago. Logan had never quite been able to shake the first reaction she had from seeing him: pure, unadulterated terror.
Granted, he learned later it was thanks to Mystique playing dress-up, in an attempt to make Marie suspicious of the X-men.
But the fear in her eyes seemed to be imprinted in his mind: a reminder of the killing machine he had been made to be.
As the jet engines slowly whirled to a stop, Logan had undone the seatbelt and was down the ramp before the rest of the team could collectively blink.
The strong smell of wheat filled Logan's nostrils, and he angrily forced his senses to ignore it. The sun had already begun to set, but its rays still penetrated the flatlands, glistening off the tall buildings that could be seen some distance away—the South's idea of a downtown metropolis.
As he heard the rest of the team—Scott, Jean, Storm, Kitty and Kurt—scramble to follow him, Logan took a look in the opposite direction of the skyline.
While many of the houses had become shrouded in the impending darkness, small lights filtering through windows made them stand out amongst the fields.
He heard Scott's voice from behind him: "Her old house is on 7349 Hillside Drive."
Logan was gone before the last word had left Scott's mouth.
He didn't need the numbers to find Marie's old residence. Once in the neighborhood, his nose guided him to a cookie cutter house about a mile away from where they had parked the jet. Her scent wafted along the walkway, along with the strong smell of motor oil from the bike she had borrowed.
But the motorcycle was nowhere in sight.
Logan purposely marched up the walkway and banged on the old oak door. He didn't have to wait long before it was opened.
"Hello Logan."
The older woman with dark glasses looked right at him—what was her name again? Oh yeah, the future teller. Destiny. How did she know him?
Oh, wait. Yeah. Stupid question.
"Where is she?" he finally growled out, taking in the scent that was so very Marie coming from within the home. It was still strong, thankfully, and probably meant that they just missed her.
The rest of the team had finally caught up with Logan, but remained a couple feet back from the front door.
Destiny seemed to ignore the rest of the X-Men. "She's not herself," she warned.
He gave another low, almost imperceptible growl. "Where is she?"
The older woman's eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if she was remorseful for saying what she said next: "She's heading to Okatibbee Lake, to a cabin—here." She held out a piece of paper, numbers scribbled on it. "It's about a half hour north of here."
Logan took the paper, glancing at the address on it. "What's there?"
Destiny sighed, bowing her head towards the ground. "Her mother."