'Can I come home now?'
Not yet, things aren't ready, the world has to change.
'When will that be?'
When the moon comes riding in on the sun, thats when.
****************************************************
The camper was a mile away hidden in a ravine, he'd gone as far as he could on the dirt road that was marked on the map. There wasn't much else on here but a few flat pieces of land that had marked a road once. Yet what was ahead of him looked like a deserted town, out here in the middle of the forest. Buildings were crumbling into piles of rotten wood, their insides no longer protected from the elements. Winter had made it's touch known here, frost glittered on glass, it's sparkle dimmed by age and weather.
Walking through the dirt pile remnants of the place he'd once called home, where he'd had a family, where he'd been taken from all those years ago. Playing with his left hand where a ring used to sit, back in the camper a photograph that had started all of this. A package sent to him by Xavier, a grid reference and a photograph along with a small map. Two points marked on it, one with a road going to it, the other in the middle of the forest. He'd been to the other earlier that day and his mind was still repairing the damage. But he had what he'd gone for and he was beginning to wonder if there was anything left for him back in the world of men when people found out what he'd been doing.
Stryker had been right, what he'd read back there had changed everything, changed him and forced him to look into the darkness that he kept at bay. He'd looked long hard and deep into Wolverine as he'd read the words on the screen about him and he *knew* that it didn't lie. He'd been a killer, a destroyer of innocents, a problem solver in the basest way.
Now here he was stood in the darkening place where he'd once lived, a family maybe lost somewhere in the world around here. Shrugging his shoulders to the cold that was creeping into the world he went toward the crumbling remnants looking for something, anything that could show him his life hadn't been all about death.
-------------------------------------------------
** The map had been welcome, the photogrpah not so, it showed him stood next to a Churchill Tank, a group of men nearby but his own form had drawn his eye. He was dressed in a Canadian uniform, his shoulder had sergeant stripes and above that a symbol that marked him out as a pathfinder and ranger. The place wasn't labelled but it was Second World War of that he was sure, he'd been somewhere in Germany by the looks of the buildings around the tanks.
But it was his hand that was raised to the tank next to him that got his attention, there had been a white band around his ring finger. A ring. He'd been *married*, he'd had a wife somewhere, when he'd seen it he almost rang Xavier and cursed the man out. The depths of emotion that it opened in him had him driving toward the small dots on the paper before he knew what he was doing. He hadn't provided for the trip, didn't eat much, he just kept heading for the small road and the second dot a few miles south of the first.
When he'd reached the fenced off area at the end of the logging road he'd seen the deep impressions on the ground and he knew that the trucks that went in here weren't loggers. The wheelbase was too small, whoever had the signs put up knew damn well that what lay behind this fence wasn't anything to do with forestry.
His claws made short work of the fence after checking for traps, there wasn't anything here but rust. The road behind the fence was overgrown, the first snowfall had begun to bend the grass that was growing in the middle of the main road. Taking his camper through he drove a half mile before climbing out and taking his first steps toward his past.**
----------------------------------------------
Everywhere were signs of habitation, a small plastic bowl bright red, it's colour still vivid against the frost that covered it. He picked through the detritus that had once been a home, furniture that looked home made rotted away in the shell. No paperwork, only pieces of life that had been left behind, there were no smells here, no photographs either. It was as if every single person had just been collected and taken away, childrens toys were scattered in some houses, in others food tins still full spilled over the floor from where the wood of the cupboard had rotted through. The labels reminding Logan of the early fifties, their cheery faces pockmarked by rust and weather.
Sourness filled his stomach as the darkness wove in, it's fingers caressing his mind, ghost voices echoing across the main street behind him. A shrapnel memory fired by the way he looked over the street, but it was the other way round. His home was across the street, this wasn't his the other tumbled down pile of rotting timbers had been. Darkness hid his sorrow but the frost picked out his tears as they sat on his skin, their trails lit in silver as he walked toward his old home.
--------------------------------------------------
** There were two guards out here, they were guarding what looked to be a small doorway in a mound, looking like something from the last World War. He was hunkered down in the tree line, the men that were guarding were sloppy, as if this duty never amounted to much. A place you kept things that didn't really matter anymore, secrets that no one cared about. Moving quietly Logan felt his humanity slide away as he crept toward the two men who were going to have a very bad day, very soon.
As he dropped over the small hillock into their presence they never even got to pull the sidearms they were both carrying. Plunging a set of blades into each man at the neck as he fell into them, severing their spinal cords and snuffing out their brief candle lives. Snapping the blades away he turned to the door and tried the handle, the grip turned but the door didn't open.
A quick search found the key and Logan was inside, what met his gaze was something else entirely. Banks upon banks of filing cabinets, stacked floor to ceiling, three ranks of them. Lights were strung out all across the long corridor, as if someone had underestimated the need for storage and had had to do the best with what they had. Listening to the building he caught a sound of someone deeper in the underground warehouse, following the most recent scent he found himself going toward the noise of a keyboard tapping. **
----------------------------------------------------
The cold was enough to make him stuff his hands into his pockets, the starlight enough for him to make out a few items. A plate here, patterned with a blue flower on the rim, a piece of a picture frame hand carved with a deer's tracks. The detritus in here was like the others, it had nothing to tell him, no memories fired as he looked over the ruin of his last home. The small house had been destroyed years ago by the hand of time and the slow decay of nature. If there had been anything left to salvage it had died years ago, there was nothing left here but the slow erosion of time and he felt the weight of his life.
Once he had lived here, he'd had a wife, maybe even a family, his eyes searched for toys but found nothing to give that thought any credence. Blinking them free of the stinging tears that were forcing their way through the hard shell he'd been carrying with him ever since he'd found the bunker. There was no point anymore, everything he'd been searching for was lost, the information he had wasn't ever going to come out. If it did he'd be bundled away from everyone as fast as humanly possible, he was an animal and how Xavier could even stand to have him near the people he cared about he didn't know. That then raised the question 'Did Xaiver know?' he'd sent him the photograph and the location of the repository but he had said that if he found anything in his channels he'd tell him and send on the information to him. He'd been as good as his word but it still left a bad taste in his mouth.
Turning his back on the remains of his past Logan began the long cold walk back to his camper. He had a plan in his head, something that if he succeeded would leave him free of everything. Free to die, to let go and rid his mind of all the things he'd had to face upto. They always say folly follows a fool and he'd been the biggest of them all.
---------------------------------------------------
** Going direct to the sound was impossible, the man whoever he was was sat inside a maze of cabinets and files. There was even a small set of servers there, each one humming to itself as data came and went inside the system.
Logan finally found the person at the centre his face shining with the light from the three screens he was using. Taking a breath he slid his claw free on his left hand, moving silently he gripped the mans shoulder, pushing him back into the seat and plunged the claw straight through him. When he arched his back and screamed, he let go of his shoulder and clamped a hand on his mouth. Whispering into his ear, "Keep still, keep quiet and you *might* live through this." The soldier whimpered as Logan let go of his mouth allowing him to breathe.
Making sure the soldier couldn't look at him Logan spoke to him again keeping his hand on his shoulder, keeping him still. "Good boy, now this is an archive yes? Nod to answer, no talking or I'll slit your throat and I'll do it myself, understand?"
The soldier nodded quickly and Logan reeled off the information he'd been given by the photograph, his name as well as his code name. He watched as the search brought up his file, the older parts of it open to view but there was one part that was sectioned off. Pulling his head closer to the screen he saw the soldier take a look at him. Moving his eyeline he made contact with the frightened eyes of the soldier, at that moment they both knew that he was as good as dead. He'd looked Logan in the face, he couldn't let him live, not now.
"Stupid thing to do kid, very stupid." The coldness of the winter had entered his voice and Logan looked to the screens that were showing his past. "Copy everything for me onto disc, even the other classified stuff." Logan looked over at the classified title 'Prometheus', the fire bringer of the ancients, the one who changed the way humans lived.
It didn't take long, the discs were burned, the information about his life all there in front of him on screen as well as the reflecting discs. It told of his war record, the things he'd done with his group of men. The flag had been raised on him there, his wounds were always superficial and it had him flagged for inspection. After the war he'd been moved to here, a group of other 'extraordinary' humans had been brought up here. For what exactly it didn't go into but there had been more than just him, it didn't make him feel any better but at least he hadn't been alone.
Blood was beginning to fill the air as the soldier tried to move away from him, fear finally galvanising his movements. Logan pulled his claw down into the boys chest the blade cutting into his artery, pulling free he watched as his heart pumped his life blood away. No need to make it painful for him, he'd just flow away, go to sleep as the blood loss took him under. Dead in thirty seconds, cleaner than his companions outside.
Taking the discs he shredded the connections to the computer, whoever was watching the lines might see if there was a problem then again it was winter up here and the connection might go down with bad weather. Anyhow he had time to get out before someone came looking, thing was he brought more than the information out with him. A despair that ate into his soul, that he had been more than a soldier to begin with. That Stryker had been correct when he'd told him that he'd *volunteered* to be turned into a weapon an if he *had*, what *had* he been?
Strykers words were echoing in his mind as he went toward the other dot on the map his hands and clothes covered in blood. Making him feel more than ever that Stryker may have been right, animals don't change their spots and it was looking like he was one of the worst. **
----------------------------------------------------
Seated again in the camper Logan held the photgraph in his hands, the loss of his life now an empty hollow that was gaping inside him. It burned to know that on those discs was his life, a record of the death he'd brought. Military records didn't record family or friends, they only told the story if his slide into the darkness. There was no light for him here, only the truth that the Wolverine had always been part of him. That Stryker had taken the raw hatred he'd been born with and honed it to an adamantium edge. Then he'd planned to set him at the worlds throat but it hadn't gone the way he'd planned and he'd gotten away. The Wolverine being too strong to be caged by one mans dream of domination over the world.
Hunger finally made itself known to him and he flicked the top of the food cache open, there was a wrinkled apple and a bag of salted beef jerky. Snorting through his nose he thought of the last time he'd had this, the only reason he'd stopped at Laughlin was to get more cash to live through the winter. Then Marie had dropped in on him.
That opened up a wound he hadn't been ready for, if Marie had his dreams....then maybe she'd been having his memories too. A deep blackness gripped him and his vision faded as the panic rent through his chest, breath that was so easy to get a moment ago was stuck in his throat. If she was keeping part of him inside her....he really didn't want to think about it anymore. He'd damned her, he'd killed her as good as Magneto had, just that with him the touch took it's time to rot her through. Just like the wooden house he'd once lived in, it wasn't her who was toxic, it was *him*. Kneeling on the floor of the camper he tried the one thing he knew could kill him....blood loss. Plunging all six blades into his chest he fell forward over his claws, maybe this time it'd work.
----------------------------------------------
Sunlight burned through the windshield and into his face, hunger burned at his body, thirst too, his hands were still at his chest but the blades were back inside his body. The subconscious part of him had retracted them as he'd fallen under, they always did but it didn't stop him trying. Going outside he took a handful of fresh snow and rubbed his face and stripped the destroyed shirt off his body. Cleaning his skin he sucked on a piece of packed snow, the water trickling into his throat easing the burn of it.
Picking up the destroyed shirt he ate the apple in two bites then picked up the salted beef, snagging the envelope along with it. Turning it over he saw the handwriting and his hunger for food was squashed by the hunger to see what was written inside this one. He'd put her letters out of his head, the last one had been a nice surprise but he'd given up thinking about finding another one. He'd let her pack the provisions, his memory showed her pushing the lid shut as he'd clambered inside. She'd winked at him as she'd left the camper part, her fingers trailing on the blankets of his bed. She'd packed his food as well as the letter, tearing into the small envelope he read the words that covered the pages. His need for contact in the world greater than his need for fuel.
'Hi Logan,
I hope you find this one when you're feeling okay because there's something I want to tell you.'
He steeled himself for bad news, forcing his gaze along the lines of her handwriting.
'The last letter is under your bed and this letter is kind of preparing you to read it. You see what's inside it isn't exactly what the you in reality knows about *me*. You see Logan I'm not as innocent as the you in my head wanted to believe when you first got in here.
Rogue isn't just another name Logan, she's the me I've been hiding since I found out what I was. I mean I'm a normal healthy young woman, I have dreams, needs and sometimes I get them met by myself. But the thing is Logan I've never actually admitted it to *anyone*, you see when Wolverine 'dropped in' didn't you wonder how I managed to integrate him so easily? I know Jean had her doubts until Xavier talked to her about me.
To cut a long story short Logan, you're not the only person in the world with a 'dark' side. Rogue is mine, she did things that 'Marie' would never even consider, she kept me alive those eight months on the road. The journey to Laughlin wasn't easy Logan, there were things you can do with a few barriers in the way. I wasn't hurt but I have a few memories that I could do without.
I'm telling you this so you'll understand me when you read the last one Logan. You see whats in there is *me*, all of me, the dark and the light, the girl and the whore. I trust you Logan because no matter what I put in it you won't judge me. Because it's not what you do, you see things as they are, not how you think they are. Scott or Storm would take one look and do the whole 'get thee to a nunnery' thing. Scott even blushes at health class!
What's in the last letter is what I'd *like* to happen between us one day. I'm not asking you to, I don't expect you to want to; just that I need to let this out, to express it before I explode. I know why you called me 'kid' the night you told me you were leaving, I have you in my head remember?
All I'm asking is when your ready take it out and read it, make your decision Logan. Either way I'm here for you. You're not alone, just like I'm not alone.
See you soon (I hope)
Love Marie.'
His hand shook as he dropped the letter to his lap, blood was still hard on the denim where he'd bled over himself but his eyes lifted to the small sponge mattress he'd been sleeping on the entirity of his journey out here. And as the morning wore on he was finding fewer and fewer reasons not to lift the thing and get her last letter out.
Eating the jerky slowly as his mind worked through the facts, he lasted until noon when he just tore up the bed and pulled the last letter out. Written in red ink was his name and when he turned the thing round to open a scent that was all *Marie* came from the gummed edge that sealed it. Whatever she'd sealed it with it wasn't spit and he had a strange feeling that if he licked it he'd find out just how sweet she tasted.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Logan hits a dark place and he needs something to believe in....what he finds is something he never imagined.
** Denotes Earlier events **
** Denotes Earlier events **