Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet by Artemis2050
Logan turned, shaking viscera from his hands and claws, and saw Marie curled into a heap on the floor. He went back, reached down to haul her up, dragged her out of the room with him, moving quickly down the corridor. Have to find somewhere to regroup.
“Hang in there,” he told her. “I'm gonna get you out of here.” He felt her hands on his side, scrabbling for a grip, then falling away. “It's okay, darlin'. Just hold on.”
She didn't respond. He found a stairwell and ducked into it, down a flight of stairs, out into another hallway. They passed a door and he tried the handle, then plunged his claws through the lock. It was an office, and there was a window. He shoved her inside and slammed the door behind them.
A military-issue duffel bag was standing beside a desk. Logan tore it open; wonder of wonders, there was clothing that looked like it would fit him. He found a set of fatigues and yanked on the pants; that would have to do. He went to the window and looked out. About a hundred yards to a fence, and there were woods beyond that. If they could make that--
“Just leave me here.” He turned; Marie had sunk down onto her knees where he'd let go of her. “I can't--I don't want to--”
“That's enough. Come on.” When she didn't move, he threw up the window and bashed out the covering screen before he went back for her. She didn't resist as he picked her up, but she didn't help either as he started to ease out the window.
They were several stories up. He shifted Marie in his arms. “You gotta hold on, darlin'.” She shook her head. “Marie.” They didn't have time for this now, goddamnit. “Put your arms around my neck. Hold on.”
“I can't.” She felt completely boneless in his arms. “Just go.”
“No.” He reached over and ripped down a curtain that hung beside the window; he tore a long strip from it and seized her wrists. “I'm sorry, baby. But I've got to do this.” She realized what he was planning and started to fight as he brought her wrists together, but he was far stronger than her and he quickly had them tied together, wrapping the long strip around and around between her bound hands to cinch the knots tighter. Then he put her hands over his head.
With his arms free, he was able to use his claws effectively as pitons and scaled down the wall. He cradled her against his body again as soon as his feet hit the ground, crouching over as he ran for the fence. He could hear the alarms behind him, hear men running and dogs barking, as he sliced through the chain link and carried her through it. He kept his head down and raced for the woods. He didn't stop; he dodged trees and slid down embankments, trying to keep branches from tearing at her as much as he could. He had to slow down eventually; they were deep enough in the woods that he could no longer hear the alarms behind them and it would take some time to organize a tracking team. He heard water; a few minutes later they came to a stream and he walked straight into it.
He waded upstream for almost a mile, holding her above the icy water that started off at his ankles but eventually reached above his knees. It was nearly dusk now; finally he headed for shore, where he saw a pair of fallen trees he thought he could use as a shelter of sorts.
She hadn't moved at all. Her face was turned away from him because she couldn't bring her skin into contact with his bare chest; she was trying to hide her face against her arm. He got them out of the water and set her down on a smooth rock, lifting her arms from his neck. She sat there, unresisting, as he worked the knots loose and freed her hands. It would have been easier to cut through them, but he had a feeling he might need the cloth again.
He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his, rubbing to restore the circulation. She wouldn't look up. “Marie.” He squeezed her hands. “It wasn't you, doing that stuff. You gotta pull it together for me here, darlin'. I need you to be strong for a little while longer.”
“I don't want to.” She pulled her hands away “I can't. I don't care what they do to me.” She drew her knees up and put her head down on them. “Leave me alone.”
“I'm not leaving you, baby.“ He wanted to put his arms around her, but that might just make it worse. “Hey. Listen to me. It was me they were trying to fuck with, you know that. They were just using you.”
Her head came up at that. “That's all I'm good for, isn't it? Getting used to hurt people.” Her eyes were swimming. “Just forget it. I'm not going to make it out of here, Wolverine.” She stood up shakily. “You go one way, I'll go another. That'll give one of us a better shot.”
Logan grabbed her wrist before she could get more than a step away. He had no idea what to do here. She'd just lived through a fucking nightmare, he was always going to be a part of that, but they were still in serious danger. “You know I'm not going to let you do that.”
“What're you going to do, tie me up again?” The pain and anger in those brown eyes was killing him, but he made his voice carefully neutral.
“If I have to. Is that what you want me to do?”
“Yes. I want you to tie me down and cut me open and rape me--”
He yanked her closer, turned her around and wrapped his arms around her, holding her arms crossed in front of her. Her legs gave way and she slumped against him, sobbing helplessly, and he sat down, holding her tightly. “It's all right,” he said quietly. “Let it out. I know you didn't want to do those things, baby. Don't even think about it.” He knew that was a useless instruction. “It doesn't matter, darlin'. You're alive, that's all I care about.”
“I'm sorry,” she choked out. He stroked her hair back carefully.
“I know, baby. I'm sorry too. I would've done anything to keep them from hurtin' you.” That just made her cry harder. “It's going to be all right. I promise.” He wasn't at all sure that it was true. “We're going to get out of here. I'm going to get you back home.” He just held onto her until her sobs died away; he didn't think that was the end of it, not by a long shot, but at least she was quieter. He kissed the top of her head and to his dismay, she tensed every muscle.
“I'm all right,” she said quietly. Then she moved, for the first time with purpose, to extricate herself from his arms. That cut as badly as the blades he'd been tortured with. She got to her feet and took a couple of steps forward, squatting down beside the stream and pulling off her gloves before bathing her face. Then she stood up again, suddenly strangely emotionless. “Do we keep moving?”
All right. The first thing was to get her out of here; the psychological fallout would just have to wait. He got to his feet as well. “Yeah. Can you walk?”
“Yes.” He picked up the cloth anyway and stuffed it into a pocket before holding out a hand to her.
“Come on.” She didn't take his hand, but she moved past him obediently. He got in front of her once they'd reached the upper part of the embankment; she didn't talk, but she followed him as he led the way through the trees. Her silence was disturbing, but for the moment it was better than having her hysterical. At least she was moving.
He finally stopped around midnight. He'd tried to follow the stream as best as he could; it was an old woodsman's trick. Problem was, although it was bound to come out somewhere, that 'where' could be a hundred miles away. At least this way they were near fresh water.
Marie still hadn't spoken a word. When he told her they could stop, she simply sat down on the ground and waited for further instructions.
He squatted down in front of her. He could see well enough in the filtered moonlight, but he wasn't sure about her. “We'll get a few hours' rest. How are you?”
”I'm fine.” She turned her back on him as she lay down abruptly, curling up into a ball. He moved closer and started to lie down behind her; she hitched away. “Don't touch me.”
“You're gonna be cold. Don't do this, baby. Don't let it get to you like this.” He felt sick. Her voice was so detached, so unlike any way she'd ever spoken to him before. Everything was different now.
“I just don't want to be touched. I can't. Not if you want me to be able to do this.”
“Do what?”
She raised her head just slightly. “Oh, you know. Follow along and be rescued like a good little girl.” There was raw pure pain in that carefully controlled tone.
“That's not how it is. That's--”
“Logan? Just stop talking. It isn't going to help.” Her voice was even colder, if that were possible, as she put her head back down.
He sighed. “All right.” Reluctantly, he settled himself against the trunk of a tree a little way off. He waited some time, and she remained absolutely still, but he knew she wasn't asleep. He could feel the tension coiled in her body and he just knew she was biding her time, hoping he'd fall asleep first. “I'll find you if you run,” he said suddenly, and he heard her gasp of surprise. “Don't try it.” If she wanted mean, he'd give it to her. Anything to keep her angry, keep her moving.
“Fuck you.”
“Whatever.” He wasn't going to let her know it got to him, either.
She sat up. “Better stay awake then,” she said tightly. “I don't care about getting home, do you understand that?”
“Marie--”
“Rogue. Marie's dead.” She stood up and simply started off into the woods. He scrambled to his feet and came after her. She whirled around suddenly and held out a hand; he could see she'd stripped off one glove. “Get away from me. I mean it. I'll drop you and leave you right here for them to find.”
“You wouldn't do that.”
“Try me.” She backed away from him slowly. “I want you to leave me alone, you get it? I'm leaving. You go another direction, or I'll do it, I swear.”
He had two choices, as he saw it; one involved tackling her and tying her up again, which he considered to be last-resort material, and the other was to let her go.
He stepped back.
“Fine.” He nodded back towards the water. “Follow the stream. It'll lead to people eventually. Call Chuck the second you reach civilization. Don't trust anyone you meet, just find a phone. Don't stop, and don't get away from the water.” He saw her hesitate. “So what're you waiting for? Go on.”
“Don't follow me.” Her voice still held deep suspicion.
Yeah, right. “You leaving or what?” After another second she whirled and ran. Apparently she could see well enough, because she moved fast and she didn't fall. Logan waited fifteen minutes before setting off after her.
She tried. The teenagers had had some survival training, and she knew enough to go into the stream from time to time, but she couldn't stay in the icy water for long, and he tracked her without any real effort. He knew when she paused, when she changed directions, when she finally sat down and rested. He heard the cars on the upcoming road long before she did, and he got closer to her as they neared the edge of the woods.
He broke the treeline just in time to see her standing, wavering, at the side of the road. A truck was coming and at first he assumed she was going to flag it down, but she didn't, and then he bolted forward just in time to take her down as she began to lunge forward. The pickup slammed on its brakes and swerved, but didn't stop as it continued down the road.
He'd knocked the wind out of her, but she began fighting as soon as she got a lungful of air. “You bastard--I warned you not to follow me.” She tried to get her gloves off, but he caught her wrists and pinned them down on the ground beside her head.
“Cut it out. You're not going to hurt me,” he told her. She twisted furiously in his grip. “And I'm not letting you hurt yourself, either.”
“Get off me.”
“Don't really trust you right this second, kid.” He made his voice as cold as he could. “And I never said I wouldn't follow you. You know better than that.”
“Yeah.” Her chest was heaving. “I know. Makes you feel better.” He glared down at her for a long moment and then let her go.
“Get up.” When she didn't move, he reached down and yanked her to her feet. “Stay on the inside, away from the road. Follow me.” Sullenly she obeyed him. He got away from the main road as soon as he could; it was too likely that they'd be seen by someone they didn't want finding them. He cut across some fields; he saw fences, and someone must've put them up.
It was a couple of miles cross-country, but eventually there were houses. Logan stopped by the last of the wooden fenceposts. He was going to scare people looking like he was, half-clothed and bloody; all she'd have to do would be to scream once and there'd be an uproar, which was the last thing he wanted right now. And he didn't trust Marie to follow orders once she was out of his sight. His hand went to his pocket and she shied away. “What're you doing?”
“I'll give you a choice. I'm going to find a place to break into and make a phone call. Either convince me you're not going to run or make trouble, or I'm tying you up and leaving you right here till I get back. You got ten seconds.” She swallowed hard. “Five seconds.”
She stepped back, pulling her hands behind her and away from him. “Why would you believe me?”
“Because it's you.” He kept his eyes on her. “Your choice.”
He saw the fight go out of her. “I won't do anything. I promise.”
He nodded slowly. “You want to stay here or come with me?”
“Come with you.”
It didn't take long. It was Sunday, it turned out; the locals were probably all at church. Logan made the call, extracted a promise that the Blackbird was already in the air and on its way, and committed the additional misdemeanor of stealing an old t-shirt from a drawer in a bedroom upstairs and a sandwich and glass of milk, which he made Marie force down while they waited, while he sponged off the worst of the blood in the kitchen sink.
He didn't try to touch her again, but it wasn't until they were safely on the plane and Jean had taken charge of Marie that he finally let himself relax even a hairsbreadth. And as soon as he did, he had to stagger backwards, barely getting to a seat before his legs gave way. Jean came running, and he tried to tell her not to bother, just to make sure Rogue was all right, but she stayed with him anyway. He pushed her hands away when she tried to examine him, but he drank the water she gave him and nodded when she told him to rest, just relax, they'd take care of everything.
He could see Rogue across the plane, strapped into her own seat.
Her eyes were brown, but they were as expressionless as they'd been when they were blue.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Things happen, and they have to go forward, because there's no going back.