It’s quite amazing. What this carcass of mine is able to go through. I used to wonder what it would take to stop me for good. No need to wonder anymore. Found it from the road. The stopper. The one who can put me down in a matter of seconds.
It’s fucking ridiculous. If there’s such thing as a God, or some other higher deity, that guy must have pretty skewed sense of humor. Or deep-rooted hate issues towards me. There’s no other way of explaining how that kind of power has been thrust upon that fragile creature.
She’s so tiny I could snap her in half without even thinking about it. So used to hiding and staying out of the way, that half of the time I can’t even detect her presence in the room before she speaks. She blends in.
It’s unnerving. The way she can sneak upon me.
People think I keep tabs with her because some sort of guardian instinct has finally kicked in. That I feel responsible of her. Fuck. That’ll be the day…
I like to know where she is and what she’s doing. I have to know. Don’t want to skewer her just because she startles me at the wrong moment. She’s out of my radar, so fucking out that it’s not even funny, and when I can’t detect something, instincts kick in. And they’re protective all right. Geared to protect me. Me. Not some chick I know jack shit about. Especially me when that chick’s the only thing capable of disable me permanently.
Thing is, I kind of like it in here. Chuck and his team are decent people, and it’s not impossible to tolerate few rugrats running around when there’s free roof and five meals a day wrapped in to that same neat package. Don’t want to get thrown to the curb for maiming one of them.
I have talked about it with her. I can tell she’s trying. Trying to rise from the shadows, but it’s fucking impossible when those shadows have been welded to your being. I know. I know that from personal experience. She’s done all but hung a set of bells around her neck, and it seems that even that wouldn’t help much. She learned her lesson, undetected 101 when she was on the road. Kept her safe. Don’t think she ever imagined it would some day put her in harms way.
Like now.
“Logan… I think you can let go of me now…” Those eyes. So full of trust. She actually believes that I will let go of her throat as soon as I have identified her. Can feel her pulse racing under my fingertips. It would be so easy… So fucking easy. Just hold on until it stops ticking. Hold on until she closes her eyes. No need to worry about her sneaking up on me anymore…
“Logan… It’s just me… You can let go…” What if I don’t? What are you going to do?
“Can’t breathe… Logan…” Fuck. No worth it. Can finish her whenever I feel like it. There’s long and cold winter coming. I’d rather spend it in here that freeze my ass off in some dingy trailer.
“What are you doing up this late?” After all, I’m one of the teachers, and it is well past curfew.
“I just came to get something to drink…” Rubbing her throat. Will be pretty sore in the morning. Probably bruised.
“Here. Cold should help to swelling.” Chuck’s keeping the fridge well stocked with ice-cold sodas.
“Thanks… What’s keeping you up this late?” None of your business.
“Just came to get something to drink.”
“Nightmares?” And there it goes. It never fails. Those eyes getting so fucking soft and moist. Pity. I don’t need her fucking pity. And contrast to popular belief there’s more in me than just sex, metal and pain. I do have a life. A life I’m not willing to share. It’s mine.
“Nope. Go back to bed. You have early morning tomorrow.”
And what the fuck is that with all the hugging? Just because I don’t run away from her shouting and screaming every time she approaches doesn’t mean that I want her plastered against me like some sort of human squid. I don’t like touching. I don’t like her touching me. There’s a world of hurt waiting if she suddenly looses control of her skin. I’m no masochist. I’m not suicidal. I’m not fucking stupid.
Let go. This doesn’t feel nice.
“Have you… Do you have plans for tomorrow?” Why do you want to know?
“Not yet. Why?”
“It’s Saturday. Everybody’s going to swimming.” And why the fuck should I care? I don’t swim, kid, and you know that.
“Yeah?”
“I wasn’t going, and I know you won’t go either. I was just thinking… Maybe we could hang out? Go to see a movie or something?” Now, there’s an idea. At least that way I know where you are.
“Fine. I’ll come and pick you up at nine. Be ready.”
She huffs a little when she realizes what mode of transportation I have chosen, but climbs obediently to the front seat of one of the black SUV’s from Xavier’s fleet. She would have wanted to ride the bike with me. Hell, I’m not about to let her behind my back for nearly half an hour it takes to drive from here to city. Not that she would try anything. She’s not out to hurt me. She’s not stupid enough to try to hurt me in the speed I’m driving.
“Buckle up.” Again she huffs and rolls her eyes. I can survive from a collision with asphalt, but she would leave a sticky, wet spot on the pavement if she were to leave a moving vehicle abruptly.
“Buckle up, kid. This car won’t move before that seatbelt is on.”
“Fine. Happy?” Quite impressive imitation of me. Jesus. Like looking in to a fucking mirror.
“Yeah. Any particular movie you want to see?” Directions, directions, kid. I need to know where we are going.
“Well, there’s this one… I tried to ask Bobby to go and see it with me, but he didn’t want to go…”
“A chick-flick?” Doesn’t matter. Have no better things to do. Can sleep my eyes open. Pretty handy trait in certain situations.
“No! Nothing like that. But it’s foreign. And they have no subtitles. I thought it could help me to develop my French skills.”
“Okay. Where is it?”
“You remember when you picked Jubes and me from the mall last week?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s just around the corner.” Now I know the place. Have been there couple of times. Small theater. I know the owner. Jonas came from Sweden about ten years ago. Only foreign movies. Serious ones. Small budget producers making small budget flicks about big issues.
Why the hell she has to be so… So fucking cuddly? From the minute we sat on our seats she started drifting slowly towards me. Now she’s practically sprawled over my lap, and movie hasn’t even started! Come on! Give me a break!
“Scoot over a bit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice…” Right. Tell me another one…
“It’s fine. Got a cramp to my thigh.” And there comes the hand. The amazing human-squid strikes again. Keep your fucking hands off already.
“Watch the movie.” And you… Yeah. You. Guy wearing that butt-ugly overcoat, stop fucking staring and shushing or I’ll give you a reason to scream.
It fucking never fails. We have gone out couple of times before. Just to eat and see sights, or watch a movie. And every fucking time there’s a concerned citizen around. You know the type. Too good to this world. Uptight little prick. Ready to scream bloody rape if I as much as dare to look at her direction.
“What next?” We still have several hours to kill. That flick took an hour to see.
“I don’t know. What would you like to do?” What would I like to do? It’s your party, kid. I’m just hanging around.
“Hungry?”
One thing I have learned is that if there’s nothing else to do, eat or sleep. Life is too unpredictable. There’s no way of telling when or from where your next meal is coming. Same goes with comfortable beds. And since I’m not as sure as hell going to sleep in her company that leaves only one option.
“That was good…” Yeah. You sure there’s not enough room for some more? I don’t think you ate the owner of this joint out of business yet.
“Where the hell do you stuff all what you eat? Do you have hollow bones or something?” She ate fucking more than me!
“No. But I learned to eat when there was food. There was no such thing as free meal when I was on my own, so I tried to get the most out of it when something edible came to my way.” Blushing. Cute. But healthy attitude towards food.
“Are you going to finish that?” My dessert?
“No. Here. You can have it…” And down it goes. Like she hasn’t seen proper meal in weeks. And I know for a fact she ate sturdy breakfast before we left. I made it for her. Slept late and kitchen was closed when we got downstairs. Hollow bones. Has to be. There’s not enough room for all that otherwise…
“Could we go up there?”
“Why the fuck do you want to do that?” Wasn’t the last time enough? Have you fucking lost your marbles, kid?
“I… We don’t have to go… I just thought… I thought it was about time.” Time for what? Round two? And they say I’m the insane one…
“Why do you want to go there?” And give me a good reason. ‘It’s about time’ won’t do.
“I have been avoiding it. You have been avoiding it. I think it’s time to put it to rest once and for all.”
You’ve been listening to professor’s lectures again, haven’t you? Let me tell you a secret. There’s nothing to put rest for. Nothing. Nada. It happened nearly a year ago.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back there. What if they recognize us? We’ll end up behind bars faster than you can say ‘busted’.
“No. Do you?”
She has got to be shitting me. I can think up several better things to do. Already have. We don’t have to go back there. We don’t. Stop fucking pouting like that. I will not take you up there. I won’t. Nope.
“Uhh… There’s an exhibition at the museum… You like paintings, right?” Lame. Fucking lame. I do have better ideas. They’re right there. At the tip of my tongue. Just have to spit them out.
“Logan, come on. We have to do this. It’ll do good for both of us. Besides, you don’t even like museums…” Newsflash, kid. It won’t do any good for me to return to the place where you fucking killed me. I don’t need to go back there to remember. I remember it all right. Keep seeing dreams about it every freaking night.
“I don’t like that place either. Lets just go to see that fucking exhibition, okay?”
“No. Lets just go back home. I… I have been at the museum with Bobby already.”
Now there’s a kid that deserves a medal. Bobby Drake. Takes guts to date a chick that can put you in a coma just by touching you.
“Just let it all out, you’ll feel better…” Marie? What the fuck is she doing in here? Oh, Christ… Can’t even throw her out… Too busy to throw up… Get that fucking hand off from my back! Jesus…
“Go away…” Go to hell, fucking freak.
“I heard your scream.” No shit? Probably whole fucking mansion heard it… Don’t see Summers or any of them barging in… Just leave me alone… You’re not helping…
“Had a nightmare… It’s nothing… Go away…” Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me! You don’t even have your fucking gloves on! Jesus!
“I’ll go and get you a soda. I think I saw some coke in the fridge earlier. It’ll calm your stomach…” Yeah. Good idea. Go away. Have to lock the door before she gets back in here. As soon as my legs are ready to cooperate…. Any moment now. I will get up from here and lock that goddamned door.
“Logan! What are you doing?” What does it look like from that side of the door?
“Locking up. Go to sleep.”
“But… I brought you this soda…” You can stuff it up your arse for all I care…
“Don’t need it, thanks. I’m fine now. Go to sleep.”
“O… Okay… I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
“Good night, kid… And thanks.”
At least she gives a shit. Which is more than I can say for the most of people around here. They’re nice. Good people. So fucking goody-good that I’m starting to question my sanity. What the fuck was I thinking when I took Xavier’s offer to join his little team of freaks? Yeah. I was thinking that at least this winter I wouldn’t be freezing my nuts off on the road. Even that is starting to sound more and more appealing. Just the truck, open road and me. No need to keep looking over my shoulder. No need to bend over backwards to obey every freaking rule and law. No need to go by the book. My world, my rules.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just Logie rambling and ranting. He wanted to vent out some bad air, and I let him. No really a big point behind this one.