Title: The Antihero
Summary: The slightest change can rewrite an entire lifetime.
Rating/Warnings: T (for tantalizing?); average Logan-style fighting, nothing too big, and a little bit of profanity too.
Authors' Notes:
I am so sorry for the lack of updates. Life has been hectic. But since it is summer, I can 100 percent guarantee to you wonderful reviewers that this will be frequently updated all throughout June, July and most of August. :-) Also, all reviews will be replied to soon! –Alysa
Standard Disclaimer Applied.
Thanks to: Sledgehammer, cajunette, Catlady172, kshrimp, PepsiCrush, Hawaiichick, Blitz182, Dark, Laceylou76, Ace, AshmandaLC, Bologna121, gambitfan85, CaptMacKenzie, ChamberlinofMusic, bri419, ishandahalf, Bloodypassion, water raven, Sweetcornbee, Bellkie, southernbelle22, and Eagle-Black for reviewing and everyone else who put this story on 'Alert.'
Chapter Two:
Within the next couple of months Rogue learned a number of things that she was sure her Christian parents would definitely not approve of. And as it turned out, she had a particular talent for hustling. Logan would comment at times: "You're a natural, kid" and leave her beaming, counting all the money they had made from their recent cage-fighting exploitation. It hadn't been too long before Rogue got used to bar-hopping all over Canada. In fact, she wouldn't even be lying if she said that she had grown fond of the smell of cigar and liquor. Call it a substitute home, but soon she had grown content with her life with Logan.
It was the complete opposite of what she was usually used to. She traded in sun dresses and days by the river for her long, dark green trench coat, leather gloves and nights sipping coke by the bar, waiting for Logan to finish up his latest fight, and rake in the money.
They travelled by the day, taking a few breaks between their aimless destinations. Logan taught her to play poker (his disgust evident when she asked, baffled, what a 'royal flush' was) and bluff like her life depended on it. Eventually she was able to beat him a couple of times, though he quickly put an end to that, stating that he wouldn't go on if she got a big head.
By her eleventh month on the road, she was itching to get her hands on the stirring wheel of his truck. She would hint at this a couple of times during the day, hoping that he would catch on. Logan wasn't one for subtly though and finally grunted out, "Fuck kid, if you've got something to say then just fucking say it."
The second she uttered the words "try" and "driving" in the same sentence, he cut her off, "No."
"Logan!"
"No."
"I could help with the driving shifts."
"No."
"Please?"
"Fuck. No."
She slumped in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, and muttered about what an asshole he was and how he treated his crap of a vehicle like a fucking baby.
"Kid." He shut her up. "Next stop, you'll take off onto the road for five minutes, but that's it."
Marie knew when to keep her mouth shut and only nodded happily in agreement.
It wasn't that he had grown fond of the kid, or any shit like that. Fuck that emotion crap, he had just gotten used to her company. And it also helped that her big brown eyes seemed to draw in the ruthless gamblers whenever he staged a fight.
It was only during the nights when they didn't hit the bar that things ever grew uncomfortable.
His small cot was dirty, hell, he'd admit that, but it wasn't unbearable, so he sure as fuck wasn't gonna stop and waste money on a run-down motel. No, he had first figured, she's do just fine lying in a separate twin mattress.
And their sleeping arrangements were fine: he'd stay on his side and she's stay on hers (though technically the whole trailer's 'side' was his and she was just lucky he was so fucking generous), until they both came to the realization that neither one of them actually could ever sleep peacefully. It seemed to be another thing they had in common, he figured, both of them running away from the nightmares they could never seem to get rid of.
Their first night together had ended in disaster, with his claws shoved right through her chest and her falling atop of him, bare skin hitting his shoulder and chest. It was then that he was able to experience the tragedy of her curse first-hand. It wasn't peasant. It was just like drowning. You struggle and struggle to reach a surface that never seemed to be in actual sight, all while only making it worse and pulling yourself back into this pool of black.
They didn't talk to each other the next day; her guilt too heavy, he figured; but she was also too nervous to ask to be dropped off in the middle of an abandon old trail-road.
Finally, it was him that broke the silence. "Rogue. Let it go." His grip was hard on the stirring wheel, though probably not for the reason she figured.
"I can't…I just... I didn't mean to…" She was curling into herself again, he could see that.
"I know you didn't; it was an accident. That's the thing. You have this…power now, and you're just gonna have to get used to it, just like I got used to mine. These things are going to happen. You've just gotta learn how not to let it ruin your fucking life, ya know?" He chuckled humorously.
She played with a strand of hair before tucking it in behind her ear hesitantly. "I saw everything you know…"
He took his eyes off the road for a split second and glanced at the young girl next to him, "What do you mean?"
"I mean I saw the men with the lab coats, I saw the metal, I saw the dead woman, I saw the destruction, I saw the confusion. Logan, I saw everything." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Logan tensed, not used to the mention of all that he had kept silent about for who know how many years. For once he was at a loss for words.
"I'm sorry for stealing it from you. I didn't mean to." She said lowly.
Logan's heart rate sped up; his burden was now hers. She would always have a piece of him in her.
"What's done is done, kid. We've gotta do what we gotta do and that's move on. You don't ever have to apologize for what you do. Remember that."
She nodded silently, and that was that.
It wasn't long after that that the nightmares started. His were on occasion, only occurring every few other nights, while hers were every night: sometimes about his memoires, and sometimes about some boy named 'Cody.' She would mumble his name in her sleep and shift from side to side.
He never woke her up. No, he knew that if he did she would never be able to live it down. It was something of an imaginary line that they knew never to cross with one another. They both heard the sleepless nights taunting the other, but both, without really acknowledging it, made a pact to let the other one be. They realized the personal cautiousness of the subject. So it always remained taboo.
They were out on the open road once again, fresh off the local bar. Marie had been tired from the hours that had seemed to run extra long the previous night. She yawned loudly, stretching on her arm, and groaning when her stitched coat hindered her movements.
"The fuck kid? Here you are all bitching and yawning and you really expect me to trust you behind the wheel of my truck?" Logan grunted.
"It's not my fault I'm tired. You're the one who decided you wanted extra money for beer and had to go and pull and all-nighter." She snapped, her nose wrinkling in digust.
"Don't knock the beer unless you've tried it."
"I'm underage Logan." She stated deadpan.
"Don't worry," he mocked, rolling his eyes. "I won't tell your parents."
There was a small moment of silence before she replied, "Well excuse me for not wanting to drown my liver in alcoholic beverages."
"Not a problem with my abilities kid." He smirked. "It's all good going down."
She sneered, her southern accent running a little bit thick as she clipped the subject off short. "When do we hit the next town?"
He shrugged. "It should be a good thirty minutes away from here. Why?"
"I need to stop at a Laundromat again." She hunched down in her seat and propped her feet up on the dashboard. "I've run out of clean clothes."
"Already?" he barked. "It's barely been two weeks!"
"I can't wear the same clothes from the previous night like you do." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I actually care about my hygiene."
He was ready to take a crack at her, lighten the situation up, when a tree, appearing to have fallen from the side of the road, crashed down right in front of the truck.
Logan slammed down on the brakes, but was too late. The vehicle slammed harshly into the thick trunk, its force causing Marie and Logan to be yanked out of their seats and head-bashed into the front windshield.
The hit, for the most part, was harmless, only really cutting up Logan, whose skin quickly mended itself.
Marie breathed in deeply, shaken up from the whiplash. "What in the world was that?" she groaned, unbuckling herself from her seatbelt in an attempt to stretch out her body.
Logan wiped away the blood from his forehead and check, smudging the color away with his sleeve. "I don't know what the fuck that –" his words were cut off as a slam from the back rocked the truck.
For a split second neither of the two said a word. Logan tensed up, his body's instinct automatically telling him he needed to be on guard. He could feel his body instantly grow anxious and his claws shifting within his knuckles.
"Stay here and don't move." He hissed lowly under his breath. He slowly opened his side door and stepped down on the snow-covered ground.
"Logan!" Marie leaned over to his side on her seat, head still dizzy from the hit. "Logan!" she whispered. "You can't leave me here!"
He snapped back at her. "Shut the fuck up and get down, I don't want you to get—" the air was knocked right out of him as he was shoved down to the ground by a large man.
"The fuck-?" he shouted, as his metal claws extracted themselves from his knuckles. His hands curled into fists and he instantly sprang up. His arm arched back and the metal cut forward, jutting into the man's check.
The large man's hand reached up, his thick fingers curling around Logan's wrist as his smiled sadistically and with a swift yank of his hand, pulled Logan's hand down, effectively bringing down the metal knives down and through his jaw so that it hung limply off a thread of flesh.
The man stepped out of reach and stared at Logan; his beady eyes dark and soulless, he never broke off eye contact as he, unaffected by the grotesque injury that literally hung down to his upper chest, reached to his jaw and promptly lifted it back up to his head. There, he held it for a second, connecting the cut and damaged skin, allowing it to patch up.
It was then Logan knew he was in for the fucking fight of his life. This man had the healing factor.
Logan slowly, without taking his eyes off his opponent, turned his head towards Marie, barely glancing at the girl, "Get of here kid!" he yelled.
"Logan!"
The man grinned, taking a threatening step towards the thrilled fighter. "Marie! Don't argue with me!"
"But Logan-!" she hurriedly climbed over her seat onto his.
The man charged. "Run!"
So she did.
Extra Note: Please read the Author's Note at the top. Thanks. And be sure to drop a review (I would really like an honest review on this chapter, as it felt rushed, and well, for a lack of a better word, just, well, icky.) And well, I wonder who Marie is going to go to for help. ;-) And since I have a plot all figured out, I've got to say, I'm really excited for our villain to come out. He's a personal favorite of mine!