“Logan?” She approached him timidly. He was sitting buck naked in a dark corner, shivering and whispering to himself, rocking slightly back and forth.
“Logan?” she called him again and his gaze rose from the floor to her face. Rocking ceased. He tilted his head, and his brows knit together in confusion.
“Kid?”
“It’s me, Logan.”
“What the hell are you doing in here? They got you too?”
“Logan, I…”
“Fuck. Not good. This is not good…”
“Logan, you’re safe. We’re both safe.”
“They got you, too. They got you, too. Fucking bastards.”
“Logan, calm down. Nobody got me. Nobody got us. You’re home. We’re both home.”
“Home?”
“At Xavier’s.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Come on. That floor must be awfully cold. Lets get you back in to bed…”
She had gone through this drill several times during past weeks. Going through his memories with the professor was absolute torture to Logan. Xavier had been able to tear down blocks that Logan had built in his mind, and now memories of what had happened to him, what had been done to him, kept waking him up in the middle of the night screaming and sobbing. Professor kept promising it wouldn’t take long, that he would be soon able to swipe off the most disturbing images from his mind, but he kept finding new material every day.
Either of the men was reluctant to reveal even the smallest detail of what had happened during the years Logan had been gone. She had stopped asking when Xavier had threatened to move their therapy, and Logan out of the mansion to a secret location if she didn’t stop meddling. Strangely enough Logan seemed to agree with the professor. That really left her no other option but to agree with the two of them.
From what she had understood from the fragments she had heard from their conversations, and what she had managed to put together from his half-awake ramblings during his nightmares, she was quite sure that Logan had been imprisoned all the years he had been gone. Imprisoned and tortured. And somehow it was important and that he remembered all of it. Locations, names, procedures. Most of it he had blocked away, hidden behind an image of her, Marie, clutching her tattered teddy bear.
“Shit… I’m so fucking sick and tired of this…” Logan muttered, standing up slowly. She tried not to look at him, but found it almost impossible. Her gaze wandered over hard planes of his body over and over again. Logan didn’t seem to notice. If he did, he didn’t mind.
“I need a shower.” His skin was glistening from sweat that nightmare had dragged forth from every pore.
“I could draw you a bath…” She proposed. Logan shook his head quickly, combing back strands of hair that had plastered against his forehead.
“No. No bath. And you need to go to bed anyway.” She pssahhed and waved her hand.
“It’s nearly five o’clock. I wouldn’t get any sleep anymore. I can keep you company.”
“You sure about that?” Logan asked.
“I’m positive.”
“Okay. Thanks. I… I’ll go and have that shower now. Wait here.”
She changed sweat soaked sheets and covers from his bed to fresh ones while he showered.
“I thought we could go for a ride,” Logan ventured stepping out of the bathroom.
“Okay. I’ll just go and change…” She was wearing her nightgown and bathrobe. Not the most comfortable outfit when riding a motorcycle.
“Good. Come in to the garage. I’ll wait for you in there.”
She changed quickly. Warm sweater and long underpants. On top of those leather pants and jacket, both enforced with extra thick paddings to the point where they reminded more of a shell of a tortoise than actual leather. She had bought them few years ago when she had gotten her own bike, a gift from professor Xavier.
“Hey, Logan! Do we take yours, or is it okay if I take…” Question died to her lips. Logan wasn’t alone in the garage. Professor Xavier was there with him. It looked like either of the men hadn’t noticed her. She ducked behind Scott’s car. Xavier knew very well about her involvement with Logan, but she didn’t need to rub his nose in to it.
“… Claws?” Xavier asked something from Logan. Logan shook his head.
“Not this time… never with her in the same room…”
“Be careful. All people in here, you two included, you’re my children. I don’t wish to see…” And with that said Xavier wheeled away, soft whirr of his wheelchair disappearing to the darkness.
“Coast is clear, kid.” She rose slowly from her crouched position.
“What was that all about?” She asked. Logan shook his head.
“Nothing important. Xavier just wanted to know if I was all right. I don’t think he even knew that you were here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No. I’m not worried. He knows already. Has known from the beginning. But what was that talk about claws?” She asked curious. Logan coughed and fiddled with the bike nervously.
“Just… It was just something about my dreams…” It was clearly something he wasn’t comfortable discussing with her, so she let it slide.
“Okay. But how about that ride?” Logan nodded.
“Ride with me?”
Last time she had ridden with Logan had been years ago, when she had been just a little girl. Logan had lifted her sitting in front of him, between his thighs, and secured her against his chest, under his jacket. Now she climbed behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist. Pressed her body against his back.
“Ready?” Logan asked, grabbing her hands and moving them around him more securely.
“Ready,” she affirmed. Engine of the beast roared and they drove in to the night.
Logan drove hard and fast, taking on every curve and the bump on the road as a challenge. She turned and tilted along him, following his every move to keep the balance. Wind dragged air out of her lungs and tears from her eyes. Slicked her hair back and made her feel almost as if she were flying. She wanted to lean backwards and spread her hands, but it was impossible in the speed he was driving. It seemed almost as if he was trying to outrun something, something horrible that clung to bike’s exhaust, following every turn and twitch of the bike. Instead of letting go she clutched her hands around him tighter, and enjoyed the feel of shifting muscles and warmth that were seeping through his jacket.
“I think you can let go of me now,” Logan’s voice rumbled through his whole body, making her cheek itch from where she pressed her face against his back. Sun was rising. Logan had stopped the bike in front of Xavier’s garage.
“Do I have to?” She was suddenly awfully tired, unable to move.
“It’s kind of mandatory. Come on, I’ll put my bike in, and we can go to breakfast. Okay?”
“Fine…” She mumbled, let go of him and slid down from the saddle.
Her feet felt like overcooked spaghetti, wobbly and sticky, ready to collapse from under her at any given moment. She sat down on the still moist pavement and leaned her chin to her knees, letting her eyes wander to the man and the bike in the garage. Logan was going through his personal check-up list, making sure that the bike was all right, and tank was full. Just in case something happened and he had to leave, everything would be okay. He wouldn’t have to stop in the first service station to get gas or even worse, find some new parts because engine of the bike refused to work. Lastly he rolled the bike to a dimly lit corner and pulled a tarp over it, shielding it. Hiding it. She knew that he had other routines too. All of them geared towards survival. Something to get him through anything. Way he ate, way he sat, and way he chose places he slept in. Way he folded his clothes. Routines after routines, which he followed to the tee no matter how tired and worn out he was.
“I should have made you go back to sleep,” Logan muttered stirring his coffee. She was sitting opposite him, nursing a steaming cup of tea and the beginnings of a world-class headache. She wasn’t used to staying up late, and past three weeks had wrecked havoc on her sleeping patterns. She couldn’t just turn her back and go back to sleep when she heard Logan’s agonized screams echoing from the old wing.
“Don’t worry. I just have to get through this day. Starting from tomorrow I have one week off from work.”
“Any plans for that week?” Logan asked.
“No. Right now I feel like I could spend that whole week in my bed. Under blankets. Sleeping.” Logan smirked and took a sip from his coffee.
“Xavier is giving me few days off as well. He’s blocking my memories… At least the bad ones. No use driving me nuts before we have gotten out everything we need. I was thinking… There’s a small pond nearby. There’s a cabin, too…”
“You mean Hunter’s Pond?” Marie asked. Logan tilted his head.
“How do you know about that place?”
“I used to go there swimming… Back when I couldn’t control my mutation.”
“Prof told you about it?” Logan asked. She nodded.
“I was thinking we could go there for few days. I need to get out of this place for a while. Too crowded and noisy,” Logan said letting his gaze wander around the dining hall. It was almost seven o’clock, and the hall was already packed to the brim with kids, chatting and laughing with each other.
“And it sounds like you could use some peace and quiet, too.”
“When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow okay with you?” Logan asked. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and yawned.
“Better than okay. First thing in the morning?”
“What time do you get up?”
“What time do we leave?”
“Come to garage at nine.”
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