Chapter 3: On The Road Again
Wolverine watched the girl’s eyes in the rear-view mirror as he fished through the glove compartment for a cigar, finally locating one and lighting it. She’d given him quite a chase, but in the end, she hadn’t put up much of a fight; he’d had little trouble convincing her to behave as they made the long walk back to the jeep, one gloved hand holding the back of her neck, the other holding a claw to her back.
To pass the time as they hiked back through the dense bush, Wolverine gave her a blow by blow account of exactly how to remove a man’s vocal chords without anesthetic…and without killing him.
She’d gotten the picture. Perhaps even a little to clearly, because she hadn’t uttered a single syllable during the walk and hadn’t struggled to get free when he deposited her into the back seat of the Wrangler, roughly binding her ankles and wrists.
She’d spent the last 150 miles of driving in complete silence, the look in her eyes reflecting a sense of defeat and a sadness much greater than Wolverine had expected to encounter when he first set out on the mission to find her.
It’s nothing personal. It’s just an assignment. A very important assignment.
That was what he told himself every time their eyes met and the silent tears started rolling down her cheeks, every time his enhanced sense of smell picked up on her overwhelming fear and apprehension, every time his sensitive ears caught the soft hitch in her breath that to any other person would have gone unheard.
It was dark now, the sun having dipped behind the mountains in the distance a few hours earlier. Wolverine had already contacted Magneto to arrange a drop-off point. Told him he’d found the girl and was coming to collect what was owed to him.
He and the girl still had two or three days or so of driving time ahead of them though,and at the moment, they were about fifty miles between Bumfuck and If -I-Lived-Here-I’d-Shoot-Myself, so it was just him, her, the moonlight and the open road.
Logan was beginning to realize that it would be a very long and tedious ride if they remained silent any longer than they already had. From murder to kidnapping to babysitting, he thought to himself. It’s definitely time to retire.
“Look, this is just my job, kid,” he offered gruffly, though the statement was meant more to assuage himself than her. He didn’t know, couldn’t remember if he’d ever had a sister, a mother…a wife…but knew that if he did, he wouldn’t wish on them the kind of terror that awaited this girl. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” he said, a little softer this time.
“No, but he will,” she replied under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear her. Then a little louder, “He’ll torture me for escaping the first time, then he’ll kill me…but not before he forces me…”
She trailed off then, the silent tears starting again as she broke his gaze and looked out of the window. He didn’t need to ask what the rest of that sentence was, and felt a knot beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what this girl had done to piss Magneto off so badly, but surely it hadn’t been so bad as to deserve what was coming to her. At the same time, there was so much riding on this one…too much riding on it.
“Why don’t you just zap him with your skin?” he shot back at her, noticing for the first time how much of it she had exposed, and wondering for a moment why she hadn’t tried to harm him with it. It was not like he’d been the least bit afraid of her supposedly lethal skin, anyway…the gloves had been more of a precaution than a necessity. He’d known this one wasn’t going to get away.
“I can control it,” she answered, almost as quickly as the question left his lips. “And he has ways…methods…of making sure that I do when he… he…”
Again, Wolverine didn’t need the second half of that sentence as the appalling images inspired by the girl’s words flashed through his head. Her breath was coming in full sobs now as she lowered her head to her chest. It was the last thing either of them said for almost another hour, at which point Wolverine shifted the gear stick into neutral and slammed his foot down on the brakes, bringing the jeep to a skidding halt on the gravel of the deserted road.
~*~*~
Rogue’s body slid forward on the leather seat as the man screeched to a stop. For awhile, he didn’t say or do anything. She watched him, wide-eyed as he took a puff from his cigar, then tossed it outside of the jeep. He brought his head down to rest on the steering wheel for a few moments before he opened the door and got out.
Her eyes followed him as he passed behind the vehicle and stalked toward the side of the road, claws unsheathed, and then she screamed when he flew into a rage, his razor sharp talons sinking into the bark of the palm trees lining the road. His breath came in heavy pants and he roared loudly as he shredded everything in sight.
He stopped suddenly and turned back toward the jeep, his chest heaving, claws still exposed. Rogue skittered farther back in the seat as he stomped toward her, the dark look in his eyes frightening her. He ripped the door open and grabbed her by the ankles, sliding her toward him and pulling her out of the car.
“No! No, don't --" she rasped, struggling as he set her down on the grass. She was sitting up now, trying to scoot farther backward as his shadow fell on her, thinking of the flash she had seen in his eyes when she told him that her skin was touchable. She did not expect what happened next.
He said nothing as he bent down, slid a claw between her ankles and cut her legs free. He then moved up to unbind her wrists, grabbing her roughly by the arm and pulling her to her feet.
“Go on, get outta here,” he grumbled, motioning to the road as he started back to the door of the jeep.
Rogue looked around her. They were in the middle of nowhere; she had no idea where they were. “What do you mean ‘get outta here’? Where am I supposed to go?” she asked as he opened the driver’s side door.
“I dunno,” he replied.
“You don’t know or you don’t care?” she asked as he started the engine.
“Pick one,” he said, cutting her off sharply and putting the engine into gear. He softened a bit then, seeing the look of desperation on her face.
“Look kid, you’re no better off with me," he said. "In exactly forty-eight hours Magneto’s gonna be lookin’ for both of us, and then we’ll both be in one hell of a shit hole. Best we just go our separate ways. Just don’t let me catch you again…you may not be so lucky next time.”
With that, he drove off, leaving Rogue standing in the middle of a dirt road wondering what on earth she was going to do.
~*~*~
Wolverine watched the girl in his mirror as he drove away, seeing her first throw her hands up in despair and then kick at the gravel of the road, obviously trying to work out where she was going to go from here. What he’d told her was true…he’d already arranged a drop off time and place, which meant that in two days, Magneto would be a very angry man.
Wolverine wasn’t so much afraid for his own safety, knowing that he could take care of himself where the fucker was concerned; it was the girl he was thinking of, and that was saying a lot for someone who had never cared - never bothered to care - for anyone other than himself. Magneto would continue to hunt her, wouldn’t rest until she was found, and so long as she was with Wolverine, that risk would be there.
Then again, she wasn’t much safer on her own, was she?
He felt his resolve disintegrating the farther he drove away from her. He’d already had one foot in this mess, and the Wolverine never did anything halfway. He didn’t make it one hundred feet before he brought the vehicle to a stop and put it into park for the second time that night. He heard rather than saw her as she jogged up the road to the jeep, opened the door, and climbed into the passenger seat.
They didn’t say anything for awhile. His eyes were fixed on the road, trying to come up with a way out of the current mess they were in. She was sitting silently, hands clasped in her lap. Then she finally broke the silence.
“Marie,” she said solemnly.
“What was that?’ he asked her.
“My name," she said. "It’s Marie.”
He took his eyes off the road and looked at her, his gaze softening a bit as he took in her admission. He began to wonder how long she had been running. She was young, yes, and had definitely matured – in a good way – from the photo he had been given; but there was a steely strength in her eyes, a hardened, jaded look that told him she’d been trying to escape something for a long time.
Up until that moment, there had been only one other person in the world who knew his real name, or at least what he believed his real name to be.
“My name’s Logan.”
Now there were two.
~*~
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