The car and their surrounds were pitched in utter darkness, only the faint moonlight illumined the trunks and boulders that stood in the car’s way. For some reason she had decided staying off the road would help them get away, he figured. Either that or she still wasn’t looking where she was going.
Each jar of the car on the unleveled terrain pierced the knife deeper into his side. The car dipped into a divot just as he wrapped his hand around the handle making him stab it even further into himself. He groaned and glared at her, swearing that the crazy bitch was doing it on purpose.
Her eyes weren’t red and beady nor was there foam dripping from her mouth like he half expected. Instead she was biting her lip, one corner of her mouth tug up into a small grin, her eyes diligent on the path in front of them.
Shaking his head he let it fall back to the head rest. He was really too tired for this shit. One hard tug and blustering roar he removed the knife, throwing on the floorboard and watched it bounce between his feet. There was no reason to touch his side to test the wound, the trickling blood tickled as it moved down his skin before being absorbed by the waste band of his jeans.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see the girl finally turn her head to look at the discarded weapon. The metallic sheen of the blade reflecting in her glazy green eyes was eerie in the moonlight and a cold shill went through him, along with again the notion that he should not be in that car.
“So who the fuck are you?” He grunted. He wanted to pop the claws at her and give her the full Wolverine strong arm. But his weak body could only manage leaning back in the seat and starring straight ahead into the nothingness, just trying to heal.
“That’s a damn good question,” she giggled. He flinched at the noise that was beginning to be the ban of his ears and swore to himself to strangle her the minute he got his strength back.
Evidently she picked up on his bile, tightening her grip on the jiggling wheel, the giggling died in her voice and she quietly added, “Rogue.”
A rogue? Maybe she was with them. Like she felt guilty for the ‘poor fuck with mutants’ project, thought she’d help a few out? “A rogue what?”
She grinned at him, evidently trying to keep the laughter at bay. “Oh, a rogue everything, sugah.”
At her continued twisted answers a fit of fury seized him and gave his body the momentary strength he needed. His hand crushed down over hers on the gearshift throwing the car into park. The barreling sports car lurched onto its front wheels, causing a thick clay cloud to surge up from the disturbed earth around them.
His claws were out and at her throat before her body even wipped back into its seat, his other hand still clamping down on hers. “I want a god damn straight answer out of you and I want it now.”
Dazed from the whiplash she had to blink a few times before an image actually appeared in front of her. Using the spikes in his hair as a reference she shook the remaining haze out of her head till they again became focused.
Once her body realized she wasn’t dead it galvanized into action. Her hand shot out to his wrist to pull his hand off of hers. Cold frenzy collected in her eyes though she was paying no attention to the claws.
“Rule numba one: ah don’t like ta be touched,” she managed to separate her hand from his but backed away flush to her door as soon as she was free.
He just let the other set of claws come out and snorted at her. Again there was no fear mingling with the honey and cinnamon scent surrounding her, which only served to piss him off more. “I don’t give a shit about your rules. What the hell do you want with me?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, hissing, “Want with ya? Ah don’t want a damn thing with ya! Ah’m just savin' ya god damn life. Don’t say ‘thank ya’ or nothin’ ta me, though.”
“Why? Who the fuck sent you?!” He barked. Somewhere in the back of his head the more rational part of him warned he didn’t have time for this. If he kept sitting there they’d find him again.
“No one sent me, ya paranoid freak,” she pushed the claws out of her face so she could turn in her seat. The gumption of it shocked him to the point that the claws just retracted back into his arms, like they were choosing her side over his. He starred at her, his face completely gob smacked. What the hell was she?
Spurred on by his silence she put the car into drive again, “Let’s try somethin’. How ‘bout ya trust me and ah’ll see ta it tha big bad wolf don’t get ya? Wait, that ain’t right… If ya the Wolverine ah guess that makes ya the wolf and them… Well, it don’t make no sense for them to be little red ridin’ hood… Oh! Tha hunter! At tha end with tha ax! Yeah, that’s it. Ah’ll make sure the big bad hunter don’t cut ya belly open again.”
He could only stare at her, her ranting completely lost on him. In fact, he wasn't entirely she sure was speaking English. Finally the only word of English he knew at the moment made its way out of his head. “Why?”
“’Cuz,” she turned away from the front to smirk at him. “Ah picked ya, you’re mah new project.”
“You fucking *picked* me?!”
“Yep. Back at tha bar. See there was this dodgy little man and he was callin’ ya in. And at first ah thought, ‘well, ah wondered who he killed.’ No offense or nothin’, sugah, but ya understand. So ah was curious as ta what ya did, when ah found out everythin’, well, ah decided ta help ya out.” She shrugged her shoulders, facing front again. “Ta tell ya the truth ah don’t know why ahm doing this, but ah am. There ain’t always a conspiracy. Maybe ahm just ya guardian angel?”
He snorted, he’d heard a lot about angels in his day and she definitely wasn’t one, not if the two stilled bodies he saw her hovering over just minutes ago had any say.
There weren’t words for what coursed through him. Well maybe there was, like angry, confusion, annoyance, rage. Mainly it all added up to a headache to match his already exhausted body. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, the headache was more intense than the pain of the bullets slowing moving their way out of his back.
They sat in antsy silence for several minutes, her randomly checking the review mirror and him nourishing his wounds, the groan of the tires against the rocks and twigs providing vacant background music.
“What did you do to those guys back there?” his voice seemed to float in the quiet darkness. He didn’t really want to think about the possibility that she was some mystic creature sent to avenge him. It could only backfire on him if someone up there was watching over him.
“What? Ya can have metal claws but ah can’t have deadly skin?”
Another mutant. Well, that made a little bit more sense. Although, he just wasn’t real sure he wanted her help. He had no problem admitting to himself that he was just plain old scared of her. Of a little girl, a little girl with a haunting look, death white streaks in her hair and glassy eyes. But mostly he was willingly to bet she was more than a little insane on top of it.
“Go to sleep, sugah,” Her quiet voice startled him. Suddenly it was smooth and comforting without the maniacal giggles. He was torn between listening to the short lullaby and giving into his body, but his instinct told him no. So she wasn’t an ethereal ghost or part of them, there was still something not right about her.
Instead he concentrated on the rattling of the keys as they hit bounced between the ridiculous Big Boy chain and her thigh. The car was cold from the window being knocked out and the holes in his jacket let the blistering air against his newly healed skin. His jacket.
“Fuck,” he swore looking at the multitude of holes in it; he could only imagine how much worse the back of it looked.
“What?” She asked him breathless, looking him over.
“My fucking jacket is shot to hell. It took me three fights to save up the money for this!”
She wanted to giggle, but suppressed it again. He went from worrying about who she was and running for his life to worrying about his clothing awfully quick.
“Ah’ll get ya a new one, don’t worry,” she said to appease him.
“You’re going to get me a new one?” He huffed.
“Oh course, now jus’ relax an’ go ta sleep, ya getting’ cranky.”
“How the fuck would you know if I’m getting cranky? Maybe I’m like this all the time.” Her only response was a quick glare. Annoyed that now she evidently decided to be silent, he looked around the car, trying to find something to put over the back window. He twisted and looked behind both the seats for some sort of duffle bag but only found a ‘Rally Tire’ t-shirt.
He looked back at her, narrowing his eyes, something didn’t add up. Not that it surprised him with her. He brought the shirt closer to his face and sniffed it. Bleach and pinewood. A few more sniffs of the air in the car revealed the same smell.
“What tha hell are ya doin’?” He jerked around back into his seat at her voice, making sure to stuff the t-shirt into place first.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A calm chapter. Got to love computers class. Class studies, Wolverine and rogue fanfiction...same thing. :)