He wiped his gritty eyes with the back of his hand and blinked. Yep. It was still there. Blinked once more, and the baby crawling at his feet on a grubby carpet was still there. He turned and checked the number on the door of his room. Yep. Nine. Same number adorned the key that he was clutching in his hand. “What the crap…?” He tilted his head and crouched, reaching a hesitant hand towards the baby who let out an alarmed shriek, making him scoot fast backwards.
Ten minutes later, after making sure that the baby wasn’t just some very twisted form of hallucination he threw his heavy jacket over it to keep it somewhat immobile and stepped outside, reaching for his cell phone. Out of habit he dialed Xavier’s private number, then hastily cut the connection before the telepath had the time to answer. Xavier wouldn’t do now. Maybe Jean or Ororo? He tried both but got no answer.
He peered in to the room through a small crack between the door and the door frame. The baby stared back, chewing on the sleeve of his jacket, pink gums flashing and generous amount of drool soaking the leather.
He had only one number left on his list. Not really useful in this kind of situation. Rogue had given him her number, her cheeks flashing crimson and her eyes seeking his, telling him to call if he needed anything. He had taken the number more out of obligation than anything else. What the hell could a sixteen years old girl have that he needed? “Well, what the hell… At least she’ll probably know how to reach Jean…” He muttered and chose the number, keeping his eyes on the baby.
It didn’t occur to him to check the time before Rogue’s sleepy voice answered. “Uh… Hi, kid. It’s me.” For a long moment there was a silence, then sudden squeal made him cringe and move the phone further from his ear. “Logan! Oh, my god! It’s you!” When it sounded like she had stopped squealing he dared to place the phone back over his ear again. “Yeah. It’s me….” “Are you alright? Where are you? You are alright, aren’t you?” Barrage of questions interrupted him. He listened not too patiently for a while, then cleared his throat. “Look, kid… I’m fine. But I need to talk with Jean. She didn’t answer her phone. You wouldn’t know where to find her, would you?”
Complete silence fell. Then sudden gasp. Was that a sob? Had something happened? “Kid, talk to me. Is everything alright back there?” “Fine. Everything is just fine… Oh, Jean. She’s at some conference with Ororo and Professor Xavier. At Milan.” “Okay. Shit. Well, I guess I’ll just have to…” He started when Rogue interrupted him again. “Was it something important? She left a number to her office so that we could reach her if we needed anything. I could go and get it for you,” the girl offered. He could hear the strain in her voice. She’d snap her teeth if she grit them any harder. “No. It’s okay. If she’s at Milan, there’s not a hell of a lot she can do for me right now. Sorry to bother you, kid. Just go back to sleep…”
He was about to cut the line when sudden crash from the background made his ears perk. “What was that?” He asked. Watery chuckle reached his ears. “No… Nothing. I’m a klutz. Fell off from a chair…” She stuttered, trying her earnest to sound perky, failing miserably. She was crying. And he felt like a complete bastard. “Are you alright?” He asked. “Just fine… I… I better go back to sleep like you said…” She said. “It’ll be better in the morning…” He heard her whisper before the line went dead.
He pocketed his phone and stepped back in to the room. Stared at the baby for a moment. “I better take this. Can’t be too pleasant experience to start shitting zippers and Kevlar…” He grunted, tugging the jacket away from the baby whose lower lip started to quiver. “Aww, come on! It’s my only jacket. What the hell am I going to wear if you have it for supper?” He asked. Small nose scrunched up. The baby’s whole face started to turn red. “Shit. Keep the damn jacket…” He draped the jacket over the baby more carefully now, and it instantly attacked the sleeve once more, grinding it between toothless gums, cooing and gurgling.
“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” He asked, crouching in front of the baby, his palms dangling between his thighs. “You know… When I reserve a room for the night, it usually doesn’t come equipped with a baby. How the hell did you even end up in here?” The baby had no answers. It just kept chewing his jacket and peering him with eyes full of curiosity. He picked it up from the floor, jostling the bunch of leather containing the baby as carefully as he could and sat on to a recliner at the corner of the room, digging up his phone again.
Rogue. He dialed her number again. Waited for an answer. When it came, she sounded perky and ecstatic no more. “What?” He cringed. She sounded tired and hurt. “It’ll be better in the morning. What’s that supposed to mean? Something wrong with you?” He asked. Rogue sighed. “Nothing’s wrong, Logan.” “Then why the hell do you sound like your grandma just died?” He pressed on. It really wasn’t his business, and in a way it was nothing but his business. “Nobody’s died. I’m just tired. Tired of this shit…” Rogue hissed, misery in her voice turning slowly to simmering anger. Something he could understand and relate to. “Other kids giving you a hard time?” He asked. Rogue snorted. “As if. If they as much as breathe the wrong way around me, one of the teachers sets them straight right away. Like I’m some fucking fragile little princess…” He bit his tongue before the question ‘aren’t you one’ made it to surface.
Sure. She had felt and looked fragile when he had held her. Helpless like the baby he was cradling at the scruff of his elbow. But no baby, no princess would have had the power to come back to life after what Magneto did. No baby, no princess would have been able to bring him, bring the Wolverine knocking at the death’s doorstep.
“Life’s a bitch kid. You just have to suck it up and behave until you’re bitch enough to face it,” he huffed instead. The baby cooed at his arms like it was agreeing. “What was that noise?” Rogue asked, and he could see in his mind’s eye the level gauge of her curiosity hitting hundred percent. “Just some brat I found from my room,” he grunted. “A baby? You have a baby?” Rogue asked. “It was already here when I came. It’s not like it’s mine or anything,” he hurriedly explained. “And I have no fucking clue of what to do with it,” he confessed after a brief pause. “That’s why you needed to find Jean! Why didn’t you say something before?” Rogue asked, sounding already perkier. “Because I need somebody who knows what to do with these critters,” he said. “It’s a baby, Logan. Not a critter.” “What ever… Right now it’s trying to chew a sleeve off from my jacket.” “Get that filthy thing off from its mouth at this instant!” Sheer raw power behind Rogue’s words made him nearly drop the baby. The phone fell, shattering to pieces all over the floor.
“Shit. What do we do now?” He asked, looking at the baby who had discarded his jacket temporarily and just stared at him, mouth hanging open, eyes wide as saucers and a sticky tendril of goo flowing over its chin. “Borrow this for a while?” Logan asked, peeling the jacket off from the baby. If he remembered correctly he had some spare coins in the pocket…
Lone lady at the Laundromat gave him a quick onceover, seeing him with a baby seemed to assure her of his good intentions and she went back in to her task of emptying the drier as he stomped past her towards the payphone that hung at the back wall. He jabbed few coins in and dialed her number. Then scooped a cracked plastic chair with his leg and sat on it, arranging his heavy carcass to the skewed seat as comfortable as possible. The baby leaned against his chest, and the wet, suckling noises coming from the general direction of his left ear told him that it had found the collar of his jacket. “Don’t choke on it. And if anything comes off, show it to me before you swallow…” He grunted, waiting for Rogue to pick up. It didn’t take long. “And what the hell do you suggest that I do?” He barked. He could hear Rogue taking a deep breath, then just silence followed. Perhaps it had come out harsher than he intended. “Marie… I need help,” he finally blurted, feeling the crimson of embarrassment creeping up over his face. It took her a long while to answer.
“There’s a locator chip installed in Scott’s motorcycle. Just sit tight where you are. I’ll come and find you, and we’ll see what to do,” she said.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
Answer to RouDeVil's pic challenge. I took the liberty of making this a one story instead of writing separate story for each and every one of the pics.
Author's Chapter Notes:
For my first pic I chose this one: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/X-Infant-75902860