Only in your head, you say you’re the only one that knows.
Well I don’t give in to that nobody but me stuff.
I know where you go when you’re down, that place where falling stars tear up
the ground, and pace around.

~All in All~ Wayne

---

The man who won the cage fight sits down on the other end of the bar.

"I'll have a beer."

He hands the bartender the money as he gets his beer. Don't stare, Marie, it's not polite. Her mother's voice rings through her head. I can't help it. He's so good looking, Momma. She's always had a hard time not staring at good looking guys, but something about this guy makes him stand out just a little bit more. He seems tough, but something in his eyes reminds her that appearances can be deceiving. She's not sure what it is. It might be that she has the same look of loneliness in her eyes as she looks at the mirror to watch him without being quite so obvious.

On the television, the news is playing. That doesn't seem quite right. If we were back home, it'd be on the game of the day, or racing. The anchor starts talking about mutant registration. Oh god. Please, please don't let it pass, she prays silently. She tries to look uninterested like she doesn't have a huge stake in mutant registration and glances the way of the good looking man, who meets her eyes. Blushing she turns away.

Another fighter comes up. Marie really can't hear what is going on, but she sees the light catch the knife.

"Look out!" she screams.

It all happens so fast, but it seems like time is standing still. The good looking man stands up, turns around, and throws his arm out like he's throwing a punch, then out shoots these knife-like claws. He's a mutant too. Maybe that's why when the bartender says "Get out of my bar, freak." she instinctively runs after the good looking man when he leaves. But something in the way he's carrying himself tells her not to ask for a ride.

---

Logan looks at the girl at the other end of the bar. She's scared he can smell that. Scared that someone is going to find her and tell her parents, probably. Logan hears the man he beat in the cage walk up behind him. He deals with the idiot without making a scene. But the idiot has to pull out a knife. Logan hears the knife, smells the fear coming from the man long before the girl screams "Look out!"

Its over long before it actually begins. The man pulls his knife; Logan throws him against the wall, bringing forth the claws. He smells the fear from everyone around him, only not from the girl. He listens, heart rate is up, but it's from excitement, not fear. Listening may be why he doesn't hear the shotgun being cocked and doesn't notice it until its being pressed into the side of his head.

"Get out of my bar freak," the bartender says to Logan. Logan throws his other hand back and slices the gun in half. He pulls his hands down and walks towards the door. You'd get out of here to if you know what's good for you. Logan thinks as he looks at the girl whose eyes are filled with the excitement he smelt before.

---

It's a habit. No matter what happens to cause them to come out, always afterwards he runs his fingers over the knuckles. He starts the truck. He thinks about the kid in the bar as he drives down the road. She was scared and alone, with a look of innocence in her eyes. He smelt fear, but excitement more than fear. Like it's a damned adventure or something, he thinks shaking his head. He takes out a cigar and lights it. What the hell is going on with the trailer? Shit. There's something, or someone, extra back there. He stops the truck and gets out. Damn it, the girl is in there. Tapping the tarp where there should be an empty spot, he knows he'll find her there.

They stare at each other for a moment before he says, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He doesn't trust her she can see that in his eyes. Then again, Marie you've given him no reason to, her mother's voice tells her. And why should I trust him, she asks. I haven't trusted a soul since I left Meridian. What makes me think I can trust him?

"I'm sorry," she says her accent giving away her nervousness. "I needed a ride. I thought you might help me."

"Get out." She gives him the look, consisting of teary eyes, and pouty lips that always get her out of trouble at home. Only this time it's real.

"Where am I suppose to go?"

"I don't know," he says ignoring the look she's giving him.

"You don't know or don't care?" she asks tersely as she climbs out of the trailer.

"Pick one," he says turning around.

"I saved your life!"

"No you didn't," he says climbing in the truck.

Marie watches as he drives away.

---

I'm not going to stop. It's not my fault that she's got some fantastical notion about running away.

He remembers the look she gave him when he told her to get out.

Damn it.

Logan stops and waits for her to catch up.

---

The silence in the cab of the truck is impenetrable. Finally, Marie finds the courage to ask, "You don't have anything to eat do you?"

Logan reaches over to the glove compartment and takes out some beef jerky. He throws it into her lap. She takes off her gloves before starting to devour it.

"I'm Rogue," she says.

Marie starts looking around the cab of the truck. It's old. Well worn her dad would say. But it doesn't smell musty like an old truck usually does. Then she notices the man's dog tags. She tries to make out what they say. The only thing she can see for certain is the name Wolverine. "Were you in the army? Doesn't that mean that you were in the army?"

He tucks the tags away without saying anything.

Marie looks behind her into the camper part of the truck. Its small and messy, two things that she's not use to. "Wow."

"What?" he asks briskly.

"Suddenly my life doesn't look so bad."

"Hey if you prefer the road-"

"No, no, it looks great. Looks cozy." Marie starts to regret saying anything.

Logan looks at the girl. She's rubbing her hands together and shivering like she's cold; something he doesn't usually notice the cold. Not because he doesn't feel it, he just tends to ignore the cold.

He leans over and turns on the heat. "Put your hands on the heater," he reaches over to show her where, but she jumps away. "I'm not going to hurt you kid."

"Its nothing personal," she says defensively. He notices the lack of her accent. "Its just when people took my skin something happens."

"What?"

"I don't know. They just get hurt." The look on her face says that she hurts too when it happens. Like a more emotional version of the pain he goes through when the claws come out.

"Fair enough."

Marie looks at his hands. She's hesitant to ask but she does. "When they come out, does it hurt?"

"Every time. So what kind of a name is Rogue?" He asks like he's been thinking about it for a while.

She remembers the name on the tag, and what they called him back at the bar.

"What kind of a name is Wolverine?"

He looks at her for a moment before he says, "My name is Logan." He can give her that. It's not like she can find out very much with just his name. Not that he knows very much himself. A name doesn't require trust.

Marie thinks for a moment. She still has the feeling like she can trust him. But can she trust him that much? With her name he can do so much. Like take her back home. Or just turn her over to the authorities. She's going to have to if she's going to go anywhere else with him. Maybe just in steps. She looks up and quietly says, "Marie."