OK Y'all, I am officially here to apologize for the delay in getting the latest chapter out. As I have said in my profiles, my muses are fickle things, always running in and out of my mind as they please. It took a lot to get this chapter out speaking simply creatively, not to mention the other factors in my life right now such as school and homework. In addition I am also not to certain how I feel about this chapter. I attempted to show that Logan has a more animalistic side that needs to be acknowledged, a side that does not necessarily act in the a civilized manner. He is, after all, a feral.
If a few of you could do me a favor and let me know what you think or where you think I could stand to improve, I would be very appreciative. It's hard to focus on one story when one has upwards of five flitting in and out of one's brain and I want to make sure that this chapter doesn't just work in my head, but also on the page before you, my readers.
Thank you in advance,
CalgaryCowgirl
Night had fallen hours ago and yet Logan remained rooted at the bar, trying to drink himself stupid. It had been a bad day; that was the only way to put it. And in his spectrum of bad days, this racked up as one of the worst. Kiera hadn't been kidding when she'd said he wasn't going to like it, but he hadn't ever thought it would have been as bad as this. Then again, Logan had known he was a killer, that much was evident from the variety of skills he possessed, he just hadn't realized how early it had started.
Which had lead to this, sitting in some dive bar, in the middle of nowhere, drinking enough alcohol to take down a draft horse which was doing nothing but causing a slight tingle in his fingers. There would be no headache tomorrow, no dry mouth, not a single lick or shred of a hangover for him; though he wasn't sure he wanted such good fortune today. He wanted to hurt, wanted to feel the pounding in his head, the aching in his bones even though he knew that wasn't about to happen.
Glancing about Logan took in the dive he had chosen to roost for the night. It was a shithole; no if, ands, or buts about it. It was the stereotypical small town dive where people went to drink themselves numb. This was no high end lounge with professional decoration. The walls were bare wood, covered in road signs, animal skulls and graffiti. But it served decent booze and right now, that was all he was looking for.
"You might want to slow down dude." Came a voice before him. "You keep slamming whiskey back like that; I'm going to have to drag your ass out of here. And frankly, I don't think I'm that strong." Logan lifted his eyes to meet those of the young bartender wiping down the small stretch of bar in of him. She had been there for the last five minutes, watching him. Giving her a very quick once over, Logan decided he wasn't interested, at least not in the sense that she was obviously thinking. She was cute; there was no denying that, her black hair swept up into a high ponytail that beautifully accentuated her high cheekbones and creamy chocolate skin. Honey coloured eyes blazed out of her face, hinting at secrets most men would kill to learn.
But he was not most men, and while he would normally have had no compunction taking this girl to bed for a night of fun but right now... "I'm fine." He said, leaning back in his stool, lightly fingering the small shot glass before him.
"You don't look it." She replied, her hands continually moving the cloth over the bar. "You look like someone just yanked the rug out from under your feet and you don't quite know how to get back up."
He shrugged. "Kinda how I feel actually." He replied, downing his umpteenth shot of the night. She sighed before reaching behind the bar for the whiskey. She filled the glass quickly and, after a moment's study removed the topper from the bottle, setting it up beside him on the bar. As she reached behind her for a replacement bottle, Logan reached for his wallet, pulling out the bills to pay his tab. "Thanks..."
"Adisa." She finished, taking the money from him before offering him a smile and her hand. "And you are?"
"Logan." He answered, taking her hand. Her grip was soft; her hands only lightly callused, feeling like silk against his own rough palm. "Nice to meet you."
"And you." Adisa replied, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the bar. "So what brings you to our little stretch of hick-ville Logan? You aren't one of my regulars. Not that I'm complaining, you drink way more than any of them ever have. They would have dropped long ago." She paused a moment, staring at him, studying him. "So... what are you doing here Logan? What exactly have you come here to try and forget?"
"Something I wasn't even aware I needed to forget." He muttered, downing his whiskey, thinking over exactly what it was he had discovered that day. It had been bloody, it had been brutal, and before today; it had been blacked out of his memory. At the moment, he was at odds over it, unsure as to whether he was glad he knew or whether he wanted to still be in the dark about it. It was a part of his past, a past he was desperate to rediscover; but if it was all going to be this vile, this bloody he wondered if he might just want to turn tail and forget he ever wanted to know about any of this. "Something I'm not so sure I want to know anymore."
"Ahhhhh, those suck don't they?" Adisa replied. "But I guess there's not that much you can do about it huh? It's in the past, nothing you can do about it now." When Logan didn't reply, she continued. "So what is this thing you don't want to know?"
"No offence meant Adisa," Logan said, catching her eyes. "But it's not really something I want to talk about right now."
For an instant it looked as though he may have hurt the young bartender's feelings, but he had to hand it to her, she hid such things well. "Sorry," she said, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I was going a bit too far there. I guess I just wanted to see if it was anything I could help with."
"There's only one person who can help me with this, but she'll be asleep by now."
Adisa cocked her head, curious. "Yeah? And just what's she got that I don't?" she retorted, mock annoyance filling her tone as a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Logan couldn't help the tiny ghost of a smile that tugged at his own lips. "Similar histories." He replied, offering no further details.
Adisa smirked, checking her watch before reaching behind the bar to grab another glass. "I just got off shift five minutes ago, mind if I join you?" Logan shook his head as Adisa filled her own glass with some of the glittering amber liquid from the bottle between them. "To similar histories and the secrets they share." She said, raising her glass.
The smile tugged harder now as he clinked glasses with her, downing his shot in a single fiery gulp. "Don't you have to get home?" He asked, not wanting her to feel she needed to stay on his account.
She shook her head as she refilled her glass. "I live like two blocks from here, it's no big deal. Besides, I usually stay over to help lock-up." She gulped down her second shot at the same time as she pulled her hair loose from its elastic, running her fingers through the strands with a heavy sigh of relief. "Goddamn, that feels so much better. That elastic was giving me a mountain of a headache."
"Looked like it." Logan smirked as his nose picked up the lust permeating Adisa's scent. He knew her type. She was persistent, but if he kept from showing any kind of interest she would back off soon. 'Not that I mind at all.' He thought, smirking gently, his spirits already beginning to rise. 'She certainly is an attractive girl. Reminds me a bit of Storm.'
"So, what's this chick like that you share so much history with?" Logan bit back a laugh.
"I don't SHARE a lot of history with her, we just have similar histories." He corrected. "And she's a nice lady. Farm girl, tough as nails, works the longest hours I've ever seen from anyone other than me and still somehow finds time to help out her friends, even if it means staying up until the wee hours of the morning." Shrugging lightly, Logan struggled to find the right words to describe Kiera to this woman. "She's a dangerous woman to cross, a good one to talk to, and a great one to have as a friend." He said, hating how trite and cliché he had sounded, but there didn't really seem to be any other way to say what he meant.
"So why aren't you talking to her?" Adisa asked; a knowing smile on her face. Logan's eyes narrowed, wondering just what this woman thought she knew about him. "If this woman is so good to talk to, why are you sitting here drinking yourself into a coma instead of calling her up?"
"Are you aware what time it is?" he asked, incredulous. "She'll be dead asleep by now."
"It's a Friday night, I doubt she'll care that much."
"She keeps farmer's hours, trust me, she'll care."
Adisa shrugged, picking up her glass and the now empty bottle of whiskey. "All I know is, you're not exactly helping yourself sitting here brooding and drinking Logan. Lord knows I can't help you since you won't tell me what's bothering you. You need to talk about this to someone who knows what the deal is and she seems to be your best bet, whether you like it or not. Besides, if she's really that good a friend to you, she won't mind too much that you woke her. She'll probably still give you shit about it in the future, but she won't really care."
Logan winced, "Why do I always get the insightful bartenders?" he joked. "Just once, I'd like to get one that doesn't actually care about anything except whether my glass is empty or not."
Leaning over the bar, Adisa patted Logan's hand. "Just lucky I guess." With that, she left him alone with his chaotic train of thoughts. It didn't help that every now and then, Wolverine decided to get in on the discussion by throwing in the odd vision of Kiera's robe clad form from their talk in his memory or the beast's imaginings of what she had looked like in the bath. Again, he was a man after all. Sighing, Logan tossed some more bills down on the bar and started to make his way outside to his bike. He was halfway to the door when a heavy hand on his arm stopped him.
Rolling his eyes, Logan groaned in his head. 'I REALLY do not need this tonight.' He thought, turning to face the 260lb biker behind him. The guy was massive, with the kind of muscles that left no doubt this man's two hobbies required either of two things; dumbbells or hypodermic needles, one of the two. "You wanna let go of my arm pal? I got places to be." Logan sneered, hoping the man wasn't too drunk to take a hint.
"I-I know you" The guy stuttered, sniggering away like a hyena. "I knew it was you. Hey!" He shouted, causing Logan to wince. "I TOLD you losers it was h-him, but you didn't b-b-believe me. But it's him."
"Sorry bub." Logan said, patting the man's hand in an attempt to peaceably get him to remove it. He highly doubted that Adisa would appreciate having to clean up a bunch of blood off the floor. "Don't think we've ever met. Pretty sure I'd remember you."
"Nah, we never met." The guy shook his head while his friends looked on, giggling like psychotic school girls. It was creeping him out just a little bit. "You used to fight in the cage at this b-bar up north for cash. Man, I-I-I watched you some nights, all night long. Y-you were epic."
Letting a slight grin cross his lips, Logan nodded his head. "Well thanks for that bub." He muttered, just wanting this creepy fuck to let go of his arm. "But I gotta go." He started to move, but the arm stopped him again.
"Y-you still do that man? Feel like goin' up agin' me?"
"I don't fight for money anymore bub, and taking you on wouldn't be fair." Logan replied, finally taking it upon himself to remove the offending hand himself, being none too gentle about it though the man still appeared to be too drunk to care. 'Come on man, I really don't need this tonight.' He thought, praying to whatever god might be listening that this guy would just let this hero worship go.
But the guy just put his dukes up. "Come on man. Y-you too chicken? Cause I-I bet I could beat y-yer ass but good." He shot a hand forward, faking a punch that Logan didn't even bother trying to duck. The fist got nowhere near his head anyway.
With his eyes shooting skyward in a silent, 'Why me?' Logan let a breathy growl rip past his lips. "I'm sorry, I tried Adisa." He called to the bartender, actually having to duck the next fist. The guy was obvious when it came to what moved he was making but the sheer bulk and muscle he had on his side might end up becoming an issue.
"Damn it Tony, Jacob just finished getting this place fixed up from the last time you decided to get stupid!" Logan didn't bother turning to face the bartender, deciding he would try and keep this quick, if only to try and minimise the damage to the bar, maybe even try and steer this outside. But that idea was soon shot right to hell.
He had to admit, the guy had probably had some training. Logan was thinking kickboxing maybe and if he hadn't been wasted out of his gourd, this Tony might have made a good sparring partner. But for now, things just needed to be dealt with, preferably without claws. This wasn't the kind of place to be advertising the fact that he was a mutant. It might even help his mood a little bit; help him to take some of his hard feelings out on the guy's face. 'Yeah,' he thought, grinning coldly. 'That might be just what the doc called for.'
And so he decided to take his time, ducking and weaving in a timeless pattern that was (to him) as fresh as if he had used it only the day before. He made it a point to only use a fraction of his considerable strength, not ready to lay this guy out cold just yet. Logan took pleasure in taunting his foe, though if you had asked him later, he would have been unable to recall anything he had said, just that he had taken an almost sickening level of enjoyment out of saying it. He wasn't bloodthirsty by any means, but that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy a good scrap every now and then.
Eventually Wolverine had enough. This play acting wasn't doing much to take the edge off his aggression and he wanted to get out of here. So he began mixing it up with the drunken bastard, throwing a few punches and taking great delight in the sickening crack of bones and the fleshy 'thuds' that accompanied his hits. The scent of blood was in the air and it stirred the blood in his veins. His hits became heavier, more damaging and Logan knew he was going to have to end this soon if he didn't want this poor bastard to wind up dead. He was having a hard enough time keeping Wolverine back as it was, his animal fighting and baying for blood as it was already. He hadn't fed its animalistic side in so long; even this little bit was whetting its appetite. If Logan didn't end this soon, Tony here was a dead man.
With a ferocious roar h wasn't even aware he made, Logan slammed Tony's head into a table, the cheap wood cracking a little beneath the force of the blow. But Tony was nothing if not hard headed and it appeared that the intimate introduction to the tabletop had done little more than phase him a bit. The fool kept trying to rip Logan's hands away from himself so he could try and get back into the fray, as though this were a fair fight. Logan would just have to make him realize how stupid he was. Amazingly, or perhaps not considering his strength, all it took was one wicked punch across the face and Tony dropped like a stone at Logan's feet. 'Well, that was rather anticlimactic.' He thought.
"Anybody else want to try my patience tonight?" he snarled, Wolverine still keening for blood. Logan almost hoped that one of the other patrons would be foolish enough to challenge him. But no one spoke up, no one even raised their eyes to meet his; perhaps for fear that he would take it as a challenge. It would appear that no one else in this bar was inebriated enough to have a death wish tonight. And so, with a soft snarl, Logan marched out of the bar and began the cold walk back to his motel. 'Kiera!' His thoughts shouted across the plains, heedless of the hour. 'KIERA!'
"What?" Her voice echoed through his head, snarling almost as much as his was at having been woken.
'Why didn't you warn me' Logan snarled, desperate for someone to take his anger out on, for someone who could survive it. With Kiera several thousands of kilometer's away, he knew she could take it.
"What the hell are you talking about?" she snapped, not understanding his mood at all. Logan felt her spreading her mental fingers over his mind, trying to make sense of his obviously jumbled thoughts.
'Why the hell didn't you tell me that I killed my own FATHER!' he screamed at her, his pain and rage bubbling to the forefront of his mind.
"For the love of god, it is way too fucking early for this." He felt her mutter; he was also fairly certain she felt the faint traces of alcohol swimming in his blood. Thankfully though, she made no comment beyond her first. "I did, not well admittedly, but I did tell you that you wouldn't like it Logan. You've had a hard life, harder than anyone I've ever known and that includes everyone here at the mansion." Her tone was curt, but she tried to remain submissive in the face of his towering anger. Provoking him now would accomplish nothing.
'You still could have given me a head's up or something.' Logan snapped, though that little voice of civilization in the back of his being chastised him for it. It wasn't Kiera's fault he'd had a cringe-worthy childhood. But he was mad and she was an easy target.
He felt a sigh rattle through his being and imagined she had more than her fair share of expletives floating around in that brain of hers. And if she had been anyone else in the manor, she might have lit into him with them, but she reigned in her tongue. He could almost feel her thoughts. To curse, scream and wail at the moment would get them nowhere. It would not ease his bloodlust, in fact, it might actually exacerbate it. And with no one around to take his frustrations out on, the first person he ran across might end up in a very dangerous position.
When she finally did speak, it was hardly pleasant. "Fucking Christ, who the hell pissed in your cornflakes tonight?" she muttered darkly, and Logan grinned, certain in the knowledge that she would have well and truly tried to kick his ass if he had been home. "Head into the mountains Logan, Highway 16 until you get to Red Pass. There should be a tribe of the Blackfoot Nation there and if you're NICE," there was a great deal of stress on the word nice he noticed. Was she trying to hint at something? "They might let you join them on one of their hunts so you can get this bloodlust out of your system. And who knows, if you're lucky you might find someone there who knew you."
Grunting quietly, Logan shoved open the door to his motel room, intent on getting a little sleep before hitting the road at dawn.
"Oh and Logan," Kiera added, her tone dangerously sweet. "If you ever get it into your head to wake me up at three in the morning and then proceed to get pissy with me again, I swear to god I will incapacitate you for however long it takes me to hunt you down and give you an ass kicking the likes of which you have never, nor will ever see again." Her anger rolled over him in waves, which didn't really help Wolverine to calm down at all. "Am I making myself clear?" she asked, all but snarling at him.
"Crystal." He snarled back, storming to the bathroom. Maybe a shower would help.
"And I will be expecting an apology when you get back." She snapped, severing the link between them before he could respond. The violent method she had used to end the conversation left him staggering in shock for a brief instant, but once he came back into himself, his frustration and anger returned in spades. Who the hell did she think she was, wrenching away from him like that? She had to know what kind of a shock to the system that was, but did she even care? Before he knew it, a loud snarl ripped from his throat. He would take her advice, but only because he couldn't bring himself to return to the mansion now. If he went back now, without giving himself time to settle his thoughts and aggression, Kiera would be a dead woman. He knew this for a fact because Logan would kill her without the slightest hesitation.
He wouldn't even blink.