”No, Logan. We can’t…” Fucking bitch. Every fucking time, backing away at the last possible moment, leaving me hanging around, staring in to nothingness and drooling like a fucking retard. Serves me right. For I must be mentally challenged somehow. There really isn’t any other explanation to my stupidity. How many times. Fucking too many times. Too many close calls, those soft lips just inches from mine, just before she pulls back and runs to Scott.

“Logan, close your mouth before something crawls in and makes a nest.” Shit. Marie.
“Seriously, why do you let her do this to you? You know she won’t leave Scott.” How the fuck did she got so freaking sensible and adult all of a sudden?
“Yeah? What makes you think so?” Because as obvious as it is, she shouldn’t even have a clue about this our little triangle.
“Come on. This calls for some ice cream and tea…” No. Not really. A beer and a good fuck. But I’ll take that ice cream and tea. Maybe some of that sense she’s lugging around rubs in to me if I spend some time with her…

“Why Jean sticks with Scott?” This is actually nice.
“Enlighten me, oh wise one…” Crap. Didn’t actually mean to sound that bitchy.
“Simple. Women tend to steer to safety. She has been with Scott… I don’t even know for how long, but must be pretty long. You’re the devil she doesn’t know. She’s curious. Tempted. But not ready to abandon her safety-net.”
“You’re telling me she needs a blankie, and Scott’s that blankie?” Christ. I must have understood because kid is smiling. I love that smile of hers. She doesn’t smile too often. Just every now and then. But when she does, it lights up the whole fucking room.
“I wouldn’t go calling Scott a blankie, but you got the hang of it. I think that’s what we all are after at the end of the day. Something safe and stabile…” And there goes the eyebrow. Felt like it shot right over my skull.
“Safe and stabile? You telling me I’m unsafe and unstable?”
“Logan, no! Well, maybe… Just a little?” That smile of hers isn’t bright enough to blast her out of this…
“A little? Kid… Marie… Thanks. Thanks a bunch.” That really hurt. Of all these people… I thought she was the one I could put my faith on. The one person I could trust. Shows how fucked up this world is. How fucked up my life is. Because if you can’t trust to anybody… Fuck this. Fuck ice cream. Fuck tea. Should have gone with that beer and a good fuck…

“Logan!” Nope. Holler all you like. I won’t open that door.
“Please. I didn’t mean it like that. Logan!” Fuck you. I have had enough insults for today.
“Logan… I’m sorry. Really sorry.” Don’t mean a fucking thing. There are some things you just don’t do.
“Logan…”
“Leave me alone!” Was that really my voice?
“Are you alright?” No. I’m not all right. Just get the hell away from me. This is so fucking degrading. Just go away. Why the fuck did I teach her how to pick locks?
“Go away, kid…” I’m really not crying. Nope. Just got something in my eye. In to both of them. Really big and really scratchy something.
“At least shut that fucking door!” Rest of those morons doesn’t have to know how low I have fallen.

“Look, I didn’t mean to insult you. But isn’t it kind of obvious that you’re everything Scott’s not? You’re the exact opposite of him.”
“And what’s… What’s wrong with that?” Great. Can’t even talk properly. This is fucking ridiculous.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with you… Or maybe something. Here.” A hankie?
“Umm… You might want to blow your nose…” Shit. Is there no end to this humiliation?

“So… I’m no Scott?”
“No, you’re not.”
“Oh, fuck… Why the fuck that doesn’t make me feel better?” Because in all fairness it should.
“You love her. You love Jean.” No shit, Sherlock?
“Yeah.”
“It isn’t easy. To love someone you can’t get…” How the fuck… Why the fuck does she sound so miserable? Like she really knows. Some boy yanking her chain?
“I feel like shit… Come on, I could really use a hug right now…” Not really. But she looks like it could do some good for her.
“Okay… Just be careful, my skin…”
“Don’t worry about it, kid.” And what the fuck did I do now? Why the fuck is she bawling her eyes out?

“You always say that… Why?”
“Say what?”
“Not to worry about my skin.”
“You don’t have to. At least not around me. I’m pretty good covered, and even if something happens, I’ll heal.” Right. It’s freaking me out, to be this close to that pale skin of hers. She has nearly killed me twice. But that’s my fucking problem, not hers.
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
“Care to tell me who it is?”
“Who?”
“The guy who made you so miserable?”
“Logan…”
“I promise I won’t claw him. Well, maybe just a little, I am the resident maniac after all…”
“It’s nobody… Just leave it.” It’s kind of hard just to turn around and pretend everything’s peachy when we are both hurting, and I just know I could probably fix at least her problem.
“Marie…”
“No! I won’t tell you his name!”
“Okay.” For now. Sooner or later I will find it out, one way or the other.

She’s gone. I thought it was bad earlier, to see her every fucking day, but this is pure torture. I can’t even see her anymore. Just have to live on, knowing she really chose him. Chose Scott. And I can’t even imagine what hell he’s going through right now. Serves him right. At least he had her. I didn’t even have her, and I feel like I’m missing a fucking limb. It’s not decent. It’s not healthy. It’s not good for me, but I can’t fucking help it. I can’t make it stop.

“Logan?” And what part of ‘stay the fuck away’ she didn’t understand? I thought I had made it pretty clear to all the people around here to leave me alone.
“What?” Grumpy? Sue me. She’s dead, and because I happen to live in a world that has decided for some reason to screw me over time after time, she basically told me to fuck off when we spoke for the last time.
“You haven’t eaten anything for the whole day. I brought you a sandwich…”
“Do you want me to tell you exactly where you can stuff that sandwich of yours?”
“Come on… Ham and mustard… Little cheese…”
“Marie, I’m not some fucking three-year-old! Get the hell out of here! Leave me alone!”
“Fine. I’ll eat it myself, then.”
“Good.”

“Marie?”
“Yes?”
“I kind of thought that you would be leaving.”
“Nope. Wouldn’t be right to leave you alone.” And why the fuck not? I was doing just fine on my own. Getting involved got me in to this mess.
“Aren’t you thirsty?” Because that sandwich looked dry as hell, and she’s still chewing the last bits.
“Little. Do you have anything to drink?”
“ No. You know where the kitchen is.”
“Jerk…”
“Didn’t ask you to come in and keep me company.”

Fucking Jean. Like she couldn’t have stayed in the jet to do what had to be done. She could have stayed. Should have stayed. If not for me, for Scott.

It’s so fucking hard not to cut up him. Every fiber in me screams to release my claws and run them through him, to swipe the slate clean. Get rid of the last obstacle. Late? Maybe… May very well be… But at least it would make me feel better. Make me feel like a man again.

“It’s okay to cry, you know.” In what fucking universe it’s okay to mourn after another man’s wife?
“It doesn’t make you anything less if you dare to show your feelings.” I’ll show you a feeling…
“That’s rude. And childish. Flipping a finger won’t make you feel any better.” And how the hell would you know?
“Weren’t you thirsty?” Why the hell won’t she leave?
“I was. But I’m okay now.”
“Well, I’m not. You have to go and find someone else to pester…”
“Duh. I came to see you, because I know you’re not all right. I want to make you feel better.” Yeah?
“You want to make me feel better?”
“Yes.”
“Strip.”
“What?”
“You heard me…”
“But… Why?”
“There are exactly two things that would make me feel better. Getting plastered, or getting laid. Since you don’t have any booze on you…” Just take the hint and leave. Before I really hurt you.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just trying to scare me off.” Fuckfuckfuck. Shit. Fucking unbelievable. Leave. Now.
“It isn’t working?” Why the hell do I sound so squeaky?
“Nope. I’m still here. I won’t leave you.” Stop. Don’t… Don’t touch me. Take that hand off from my shoulder before I lop it off. Something’s going to give soon if she keeps rubbing like that.
“Keep your hands off…” Crap. Too late. I can’t fucking breathe. Fuck this hurts…
“Just let it all out… I got you… I got you…”
“Don’t go. Don’t you leave me, too…”
“I won’t. I’ll stay with you.” She can’t possibly mean that. No. And I can’t possibly be this stupid. This pathetic.
“Tighter…” She’s so fucking gentle. She can’t break me, not physically… I’m fucking falling apart here. I’d fall to itsy bitsy pieces all over this place if it weren’t her hands around me, pulling me back together. This is really pathetic, but I don’t fucking care anymore.
“Come here…” Not enough. Have to get closer. Closer. Just let me hide.
“Watch out! You nearly touched…”
“I don’t fucking care about your fucking skin! Stop fussing!” Stop. Stop moving. Stop talking. Just let me hide. Give this to me.

“Uh… Logan?”
“Yeah?” Maybe we can talk a little. I don’t feel like every word could shatter me anymore.
“You were trying to scare me off earlier, right?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” I hope she speaks ‘mumble’. Kind of hard to talk with my face buried to the crook of her neck. Thank God for turtleneck sweaters. And gloves. Her hands in my hair make my whole body tingle.
“It’s okay. I know you wouldn’t… Use me like that.” Guess again, kid.
“Yeah…”
“It wouldn’t work anyway, with this skin and everything…”
“Would you already stop worrying about your skin? You want the truth? It freaks me out. Hurt like a bitch both times we touched. But you’re covered like a fucking mummy most of the times. I usually have clothes on. There’s no problem.”
“Then why… Why do you keep touching me?”
“It’s not a big deal for me. And besides, people touch all the time. Killer skin or not, you’re no different than the rest of us. You need touching as much as anybody else around here.”
“Am I some sort of charity case for you?” Fuck. Don’t. Don’t do this kid. You know I’m no good with words.
“No. No charity. Somebody.” I don’t know what you are. I fucking wouldn’t know myself at the moment. Don’t make me explain more. I have no fucking words. I only hurt.
“You’re somebody to me, too.” Christ. Kid… I thought I was already done with crying…

I had her. For a moment I had her. For a brief moment she was smiling to me from behind those empty eyes and a mask of rage. She was there, right in the eye of the storm. She wasn’t smiling to me like she would have smiled for Scott. No love reserved for me. But understanding. At the end she finally understood. Thank God there was no pity. Just something… She acknowledged me. Told me with that smile of hers that she really knew. And then it was over.

“Logan?” Marie. What the hell is she doing in here anymore? It’s not like she needs this anymore.
“I heard what happened. I’m so sorry…” Why the fuck should she be sorry for? She got what she wanted. Got rid of the competition.

Yeah. I finally figured it out. The guy she was… Is in love with. It’s not Iceman like I originally thought. No. Destiny had far more cruel plans for her in reserve. It’s me. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I don’t deserve it.

“Logan? Say something…” No.
“Talk to me, please.” No. I don’t know what’ll come out of my mouth if I open it now.
“It’s not healthy to keep it all inside. Let it out.” Let it out?
“I don’t love you.” There. Now it’s out. Happy?
“I… I kind of knew that already. But that’s not what I meant. You’re hurting. For a reason. Maybe talking about it would help.” And what the fuck there is to talk about? I killed her. She’s gone and it’s because of me. Because even she wasn’t strong enough to finish me off.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Logan…”
“Will she come back if I talk about it with you? No. She won’t. She’s fucking dead. For good this time. I made sure of that. She won’t be coming back this time.”
“It wasn’t even Jean. It wasn’t Jean who you found from the Alkali Lake with Ororo. Jean was already gone. You did her a favor.”
“Fuck you. You weren’t even there. In the end… She was there. Not some fucking bitch from hell, but Jean. It wasn’t Phoenix who I stabbed…”
“I wasn’t there. But I’m here now. Ready to listen if you want to talk.”
“Read my lips. I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk.” How hard it can be to understand? Not everything can be fixed with words. I know she means well, but I can’t deal with this shit now.
“Where are you going?” As if it is any of her business.
“Fight, fuck and drink. Not necessarily in that particular order.” I don’t want to hurt her, but if that’s what it takes to make her leave me alone…

There’s not enough booze. Not enough hard fisted men. Not enough women. They all lack in some aspect or the other. Booze is stale, watered down. Men don’t punch hard enough. Women are too redheaded, or they have all too familiar stench of runaway jailbait floating around them. I can’t get drunk, fighting is boring, and truth to be told, the last option on my to-do-list is starting to sound less appealing every passing minute. This place is too noisy. Too crowded. People are too drunk and speak too loudly. Move too fast. Too close. Fuck. I have to leave before I freak out and do something really un-manly, like crawl under this fucking table to cry.

Nah… Wouldn’t have cried anyway. Don’t have any tears left. I’m just so fucking tired. Tired of this shit that some people call life. Tired. So fucking tired, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just have to keep going. Stopping to have chitchat with little girl isn’t the thing to do when your mind is screaming to throw her down and fuck her good and hard because maybe, just maybe that would make you forget the woman you just killed.

No matter how badly Marie pisses me off right now, I can’t use her like that. It wouldn’t be fair towards her. I may be a bastard, but I’m no fucking bastard.

“The fuck are you still doing here?” I thought she would have gotten the hint and taken off while I was gone.
“Uhh… I guess I fell asleep…” Yeah. On my bed.
“Couldn’t find your own bed?”
“Well, excuse me, mister Cranky… I’ll change the sheets…”
“Don’t bother. Just get the fuck out of here. I’m tired.”
“Can… Can I stay?” What the hell?
“Why? What the fuck do you want from me?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But I can’t just go to sleep when I know you’re hurting. Don’t make me leave, please…” And how the hell I’m supposed to resist that? She’s practically begging on her knees, wanting to spend the night with me.
“I already told you that I don’t love you. Not like her.” And that’s the fucking truth. She doesn’t even exist in the same universe with Jean.
“It doesn’t matter! I don’t care! You don’t have to love me! Just… Shit. Be a jerk. See if I care…”

Ouch.

This is good. Finally everything is as it’s supposed to be. Open road expanding in front of me. Kilometer after kilometer asphalt and green firs guarding me from both sides. No noisy brats. No Ororo. No memories. Just the truck and me. Good cigar.

Can’t help wondering from where it all went to hell. It started innocently enough. Just a kid in need of a hero. Well, I’m no hero. Not by a long shot. But we made it through. We made it through just fine. Jean? A woman in need of… Did she even need anything? Not likely. I was the needy one. Still am. Selfish asshole. Yeah. I fucked it all up from the beginning. And what do I have left? Couple of new nightmares. Scent of blood and feel of it permanently imprinted to my memory, along with two streaks of white against dark brown cascade of hair. Two people that were probably the most precious to me, bonds to them ruined. One I killed. The other… I didn’t run her through with my claws, but might as well have done that too while I was at it. Look in her eyes when she stormed out from my room last night… Shit. Better not go there. Just keep on driving, bub.

Who the fuck am I trying to fool? This isn’t about Jean anymore. This gnawing feeling inside of me. It has nothing to do with her, but everything to do with Marie. I let her down. Betrayed my promise to her. I sure as hell don’t love her. Not like I loved Jean. It isn’t her fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out on her. Because she isn’t nobody. She’s somebody. Maybe even a friend. Don’t have too many of those running around.

Everything isn’t as it’s supposed to be. Not even close. I don’t go running around making promises and breaking them. I do not make promises. I made exactly one promise, one wow that I thought would be easy to keep. How badly you can fuck up when you’re dealing with a kid? Then she went and grew up. Grew up to be a smart young woman. Too smart for her own good. Why couldn’t she stay immature twit as the rest of her friends? None of this wouldn’t have happened if she had spend her time running around malls and shopping with those chicks she sometimes hangs around instead of trying to fix something that can’t be fixed. Won’t be fixed.

I guess I have more in common with Phoenix that I care to admit.

Was it really Jean I was after all that time? Just Jean? Redheaded, mild-mannered telepath very in love with her husband? Or was it the animal in me recognizing a kindred spirit? And why the fuck should I even care?

Had I kept my dick in my pants instead of taking every possibility to try to slip it in to her, none of this would have happened. It’s as simple as that. Had I not taken a sudden interest in playing a hero to a teenage runaway, I wouldn’t even have met Jean in the first place.

Teaches me to try to be something I’m not.

It’s late. I’m far from home. Yeah. Home. Pathetic? I haven’t even gotten out of the state yet, and I already miss them. All of them. I want to turn this truck around and go back. I want it so bad I better stop to some motel before I actually do it, because I can’t go back. I’ll only end up hurting her some more.

I may not love her, but I’m not so fucked up that I would enjoy that torn look on her face. She deserves so much better than what I have to offer. She doesn’t need leftovers of a dead woman. She doesn’t need a freak that clings to a memory of another woman.

I can just hope it wasn’t all bad for her. That she got some nice memories out of this. Even I got few. The way she smiles. That’s one thing I will take with me to my grave. If I ever actually end up in there. Way she always seems to know what buttons to push. In good and bad. She fucking knows me from inside out. Quite literally.

Christ. Shouldn’t go thinking these things at three in the morning… Who’s at the door?

“Hi.” Marie?
“Uhh… Hi?“ How the hell did she even found me?
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah…” I guess.
“Looks like your taste hasn’t improved…”
“If you prefer outside…”
“Actually, this time I do. I think I saw a roach or a rat crawling under that bed.”
“I’ll just get my coat.” Can’t sleep anyway. Might as well get going as soon as she has said what she came to say.

“What do you want?”
“I want you to come home, Logan.”
“Why?”
“Does there always have to be a reason? I just want you to.”
“You sucker for punishment or something?” Because she can’t be this stupid or naïve. She can’t possibly think I will somehow magically change and stop beating her up every fucking time she tries to approach me.
“No. But you don’t belong here. Nobody should be alone and cold all the time.”
“I don’t mind…”
“Maybe you don’t, but I do!” Touchy, are we?
“Look… I’m not expecting anything from you. I do not expect you to forget Jean and start loving me, because that’s not how it works. But I’m asking you as a friend to do this for me. Just a small favor. Come home. Please.” As a friend? She’s able to think of me as a friend after all I have put her through?
“Come here, kid…” I really need a hug from her. Right now.

“So… Are you coming?” Small serious face tilted upwards.
“Yeah. Where’s your car?”
“I parked it over there.”
“I’ll follow you. Just wait couple of minutes, have to go and pay for the room…”

Time to start keeping my promise. Earning that trust and faith she’s putting in to me.