“I wouldn’t jump if I were you.” No shit?
“Kid? What the fuck is going on?” Because this is definitely creepy. And weird. Not in my comfort zone. Not even in the fucking same state with my comfort zone. If I don’t get an explanation, sensible, reasonable explanation and a way out of here somebody’s going to get hurt. I don’t much appreciate when people mess up with my head. Been there, done that. Once was fucking enough!
“Care to tell me exactly how I ended up from your apartment on top of this fucking statue?” And I swear the God you’d better come up with a good explanation before I’ll start hacking off body parts.
“Ever since you rescued me from Magneto you have been acting weird. Everybody’s been scared of you.” So? Isn’t that the natural state of things? I’m the Wolverine. The resident maniac. Doesn’t it make perfect sense for them to be scared of me?
“I don’t fucking care if they’re scared of me or not. What I do care about is getting the hell out of here. Now.”
“Door is locked. It’s already past visiting hours.” I’m supposed to spend a whole fucking night up here with Marie?
“And who’s the mastermind behind this little delightful prank?” Actually, don’t answer to that one.
“It’s Xavier. Isn’t it?” Wheels is going to get his gut pierced as soon as I can get my claws on him.
“Yes. This was professor’s idea. He thought… Oh, no. I have to go!”
“Marie!”
Jesus Christ! She just climbed over the railing and jumped off! What the fuck…
“What can I get you?”
“Coffee. Black.” She doesn’t even know who I am. Those eyes, looking straight at me. No recognition whatsoever. A waitress in a small diner, I’m probably her last customer before she turns on the closed-sign on the door and goes home to sleep off those black blotches from under her eyes.
“Passing through?”
“Maybe. Have some things to take care of, might take couple of days. Then I’m heading back home.” Smalltalk. Just like thousands of other waitresses around the world.
“And where would that home be? You look like you’re awfully far from it.” Yeah. I’m far from home, kid. But so are you. And for some fucking reason you don’t know me. Don’t know me at all.
“N.Y.”
“You are far from home. You a trucker?”
“Nope. Just looking for something. You closing up soon?” Good coffee. She still knows how to make it. Just a little short from melting the spoon I’m stirring it with.
“Probably. Not too many customers coming around after nine. You have a place to stay?”
“Not yet. But I saw a motel down the road, few kilometers from here.” You’re thinking something. That line that appears between your eyes, just above the bridge of your nose…
“You a decent man?” What kind of fucking question is that?
“What do you mean?”
“I have an extra room upstairs. Would save you the trouble of driving back to that motel.” How fucked up from the head are you, kid? You don’t go offering a room to a guy you just met.
“How much?”
“Free.” Free? There’s no such thing as free room. There’s always a catch.
“Free? I kind of doubt that…”
“You look like a good guy. And the thing is… Well… It gets lonely out here. This place is little off from the main road and… Shit. Okay. I have been hearing weird noises from outside lately. Always after dark. I know this sounds like a lame pick-up line, but I’m serious. There’s something going on, and I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Get a dog.” It fucking never fails. They take one good look at me and…
“Please? I wouldn’t be bothering you. Free room. Hell, I toss in free meals as well. I really could use some company.” And bribing will get you surprisingly far, darling.
“Okay. I’m Logan.” Fuck! What’s the matter with me? I do not shake hands with lethal little girls! Christ! Fuck, fuck… Wha… She’s touching me. With her bare skin. Her hand on mine.
Let go. Let go. Please, let go. Let the fuck go of me, now!
“Nice to meet you, Logan. My name is Marie.”
At least she remembers her own name, even if she has forgotten everything else. Wonder if she knows about her mutation? Didn’t look like it. Yeah, she learned to control it after Liberty. To some extent. Back home she was still as careful as ever, wearing gloves and long sleeves, covered from head to toe. I think I was the one person she willingly touched. Jeesh. What an honor. Would have gladly gone without those touches. It fucking hurt when she drained me.
“Bathroom’s over there. Sheets are clean. I don’t have TV or any books, I just moved in about a month ago myself…”
“It’s okay.” Wasn’t going to read or stare at the tube anyway. Or sleep. Have a long night ahead of me. Have to find out what the fuck is going on in here, and why the hell she doesn’t seem to remember a thing past two weeks she has been gone.
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