Logan lunged to his feet as the door gave way. The last thing he remembered before turning his berserker rage towards the soldiers in black was Marie grabbing the large duffle bag and rushing for her son.
“Charles!” Marie yelled as she launched herself off the back deck. She had already pulled the Browning 380 from its pocket in the bag, concealing it within her jacket, and everything else they’d need was slung over her shoulder. She had known they would come. Even before the Registration Act passed, she knew they would come for her and her son - someday. She refused to let it happen, and had planned ahead for this day. What she hadn’t planned on was Logan being there.
Even from the back garden, she could hear the unique sound of Logan going to work with his claws. She didn’t know how many men there were, but they stood little chance, and for that she was grateful.
“Charles, listen to me,” she crouched in front of her son. “We have to leave. Now.”
His eyes widened. It should’ve been out of fear, and maybe it was, but something else in that intense gaze formed a tiny knot in her stomach. She recognized it, knew it well. She’d seen that same spark dance in his father eyes, and right now, Logan was staring back at her.
“Is it the bad guys, Mommy?”
“Yes. Yes it is.”
She kept a firm grip on his small hand as they scrambled for the back gate.
“Marie! Marie, wait!” Logan shouted from the back deck.
She turned to see him swallow up the distance between them in a few long strides. His shirt was splattered with blood and she knew it wasn’t his. Charles’ hand went stiff within hers.
“It’s okay,” she reassured him. He’s okay, she wanted to say but didn’t put it into words; something told her Charles understood more than he ought to.
Logan didn’t say a word as he raced up, but his eyes said it all. He would force his way into going with them if he had to, but he didn’t want it to come to that. In other circumstances, Marie would have grappled with the issue for hours, questioning her feelings, his intentions. As it was, she went with her most basic instinct: to protect her child.
“Come on,” she said to Logan as they fled through the gate.
The three of them moved swiftly through backyards and between houses. Logan relieved her of the bag so she could pick up Charles and move faster.
“We need a car,” he stated.
“I’ve got a Tahoe parked at the convenience store. Two blocks away.” Her clipped answer belied her clever planning: left at a 24-hour store, and moved periodically, her second vehicle was equipped for exactly this occasion. It had tags that were impossible to trace and emergency supplies in the back. Her thoughts instinctively went to the man beside her.
“What about your stuff? Is there anything you need to get from – from wherever it is you’re staying?”
“Nothin’ I can’t live without,” he answered knowingly.
Logan, she knew, had no need to prepare for an escape. His entire life had been lived by the precepts he had taught her: always suspicious, always ready. Neither one of them spoke about the threat, nor the men who had leveled her front door, silently agreeing to wait until Charles couldn’t hear every word.
They crossed through a gas station parking lot, coming to the edge of the commercial area and Logan slowed.
“Hold on, dar…,” he cleared his throat. “I gotta lose this shirt.”
He stripped off the outer layer, knowing he couldn’t waltz through the crowd wearing a bloody shirt and have it go unnoticed. The blood had already soaked through to the shirt underneath. But underneath that fabric, Marie was certain his skin was as flawless as it had ever been. She eyed him, trying to think of a solution.
“Wait right there. I’ll get something,” Marie offered and made haste into the large gas station with Charles still attached to her side.
Logan used the opportunity to take off his undershirt and wipe off any remaining blood. He never once flinched at the soldiers’ blood on his chest, or what had happened to put it there. It had to be done. Face the problem and deal with it. He’d been down that road before, more times than he ever wanted to admit to Marie, or anyone else. He hid both shirts in a nearby dumpster as she and Charles returned.
There was a brief, almost undetectable, moment as Marie took in the sight of his muscled torso, the awareness lingering until Charles shoved his small arm out, holding a black bundle.
“Here’s a shirt so you don’t gotta be nekkid,” the boy said proudly.
“Charles,” Marie shushed, but couldn’t contain a smirk.
Logan gave a lopsided grin and took the shirt, glad to have the tension broken. He noticed the boy had inherited hints of his mother’s southern accent, his words softer and more drawn out than those of the locals.
“Thanks, kid.”
“Charles, this is Logan,” Marie introduced them. He’s…he’s one of the good guys.”
Her son didn’t say anything, just studied Logan with a child’s natural curiosity. Marie knew, however, he had instincts of an emerging feral, and wondered how long it would be before the questions started.
Surprised to hear he was still considered one of the good guys, Logan pulled the shirt over his head. It was a little snug, workable, but emblazoned with large sections of white and red. He looked down at his chest in vague derision.
“NASCAR?” he read.
“Sorry, best I could do. They don’t sell hockey shirts in gas stations ‘round here.”
His raised brow got the anticipated response. She had to smile a little at the surly Canadian wearing a tight, tacky, Dale Earnhart, Jr. t-shirt. Caught on the receiving end, Logan’s lips couldn’t help but quirk in response. Marie’s demeanor changed in a flash.
“We gotta move,” she ordered. She couldn’t allow herself to confuse this small understanding with the bond they had once shared.
******
Marie was behind the wheel as they left the suburbs behind them, heading west on the Interstate. When Charles wasn’t looking, she slid the gun over to Logan, motioning for him to hide it in the glove compartment. She put her hands back on the wheel, glad of the stability that might stop them from shaking. There were things to say, to discuss, but Marie couldn’t think of them. The realization that this day had finally come made it difficult to focus. She was now on the run with Charles – and his father.
Logan seemed to be chewing things over himself, sideways glances giving way to a long, intentional stare. “You were ready to run. Good and ready,” he finally said with a nod towards to gun. “Everything planned out – pretty damn impressive.”
“You’re not the only survivor,” she responded. “Everything I know about running, I learned from you.” She made it clear she was grateful for the lesson – he was the best, after all - but didn’t bother to hide her bitterness, either.
They traveled for miles without speaking again, but once Charles had drifted off in the back, Logan had to know something. He suspected he knew the truth, but he needed to be sure.
“The kid – Charles never once cried or freaked out about you running from the house or havin’ to up and leave his home …did you tell him this might happen?”
She kept her eyes on the road, occasionally flicking them across to check the rearview mirror.
“Charles and I have been lucky. We’ve managed to stay off the radar for a long time, but I was always worried that eventually, somebody somewhere would connect the dots, and the government would find us, find him. I had to plan for that possibility – and I did…pretty obsessively.”
Logan turned in his seat to face her. “Marie – those men could’ve been there for me. Somehow they figured out I was there and came after me. They may not know a thing about Charles.”
If that was the case, he was more danger than protection for them. He should probably get away from them as soon as possible. He should, but he knew he wouldn’t.
“They know,” she insisted, quietly. “I could see it in their eyes. They didn’t want you; they wanted to get through you. My – our son…they know. Somehow they found out about me and they know you’re the father. It wouldn’t be all that hard to piece together if anyone got access to the medical records at the school.”
Marie didn’t realize that she’d started talking faster, her voice choppy. “The government isn’t blind. A boy, a mutant, with your abilities…maybe mine…maybe both! They’d do anything to get their hands on that.”
Logan shook his head in denial. “No, Hank destroyed all the records, the school was trashed. Could be the government doesn’t have a clue about Charles…not yet.”
Even as he said it, he knew he was lying to himself.
“Logan - face the truth! It’s not about you anymore - they want our son.”
She shot him a look and didn’t even bother to try and hide the fear she knew was in her eyes. She suspected it would be raw and naked, because she’d rather die a thousand times over than let anything happen to her son.
Rage slammed Logan back into his seat, and he fought the urge to roar in frustration. It was the truth and he knew it. Those men had come for his son. It was the reality he had refused to consider, even as he’d cut his way through those soldiers to get them to safety. He’d killed on instinct, but they’d been there for the sole purpose of abducting his boy – he knew that right down to his adamantium bones.
Coming after him was one thing, but those bastards wanted a piece of his child. They would take him, torture him, and use him without remorse. Marie had lived every day since the child was born wondering when they might come. How did she stand it? His respect for her grew exponentially. And those fuckin’ government bastard hit men, they’d put a bullet through her head without a second thought. In their eyes, she was of no importance, expendable.
Logan gripped the seat in an impotent rage. He’d rather have the entire Special Forces after him than even one man hunting his wife and child. ‘No!’ his mind yelled in correction. Shock upon shock was making his head spin, confusing him. She was no more his wife than he was the dutiful husband who brought home flowers and wine! Despite his denials, their bitter history, their situation had made him realize something. In his mind, she was his mate, and Charles was their offspring. And if something wanted to take them away, hurt them … the claws slid out unconsciously as a growl grew in his chest.
Immediately alarmed, Marie sat up straighter.
“What? What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously, checking the mirror for tails.
“Pull over,” Logan managed to say.
“Why? What is it?” Her anxiety was growing by leaps and bounds.
“Nothing’s wrong. Nobody’s back there. I need…some air. I – I gotta get out for a second,” he forced out.
She’d known him long enough to understand what he needed. Without him saying another word, she knew the thoughts and images that ran through his mind. Dark ifs, when’s, and maybes that were worse than nightmares because they came while you were awake. She’d lived with them too – for years.
Marie pulled off the Interstate onto a deserted exit that was thickly lined with trees and brush. Every muscle in Logan’s body was strained taut, his face made of stone. She watched as he stepped out of the car and paced the length of it, anger and pent up emotions vibrating beneath the surface. It was like watching a frantic, furious animal snapping at a leash.
He walked to one of the tall pines towering nearby and plunged his claws through it, hacking it in two. It came down and hit the ground with a deafening crack, drowning out the released roar. He sunk both claws into the fleshy core of the tree and left them there, his chest contracting with heaving breaths. He would have nothing else to smash and slice for miles and miles, so this tree would have to take the brunt of it.
Charles, well known for sleeping through almost anything, sat up in the back. His voice was equally full of sleep and puzzlement as he demanded to know what Logan was doing to the tree.
“It’s okay, he just needs to let off some steam,” Marie soothed.
“Like you when you had to throw things off the deck that time?”
Despite what she knew Logan was feeling at this moment, she had to smile, amazed at her son’s keen observations. She’d been hurting that day; single motherhood taking its toll as she was forced to deal with a looming, unknown future, and a haunting past. The tears in her eyes had been blinding as she’d thrown that evening’s burnt casserole – complete with dish and pot holders – off the deck. It had been an easy way to vent and yelling at the open sky had actually helped. She and Logan weren’t that different when it came to holding in and letting out emotion. In some ways they were too much alike.
“Yeah sweetie, kinda like the time on the deck.”
After exhausting enough energy to regain some kind of even keel, Logan climbed back in the SUV.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No problem,” Marie replied, not needing an explanation.
*******
They’d driven for over an hour before Logan asked where they were going.
“Heading west,” was all she said.
He didn’t ask for more detail because it didn’t matter to him anyway.
They spent the miles listening to Charles’ banter, with few chances to interrupt. It took their minds off the issues at hand, and proved easier than actually talking to each other. Marie loved the sound of her son’s voice. Even if she wasn’t paying attention to all the words, she enjoyed his breathless dissertations, no matter the topic. She felt her muscles relax a little and her hands had finally stopped shaking.
Logan soon learned more than he ever thought possible about trains, dinosaurs, and Spiderman. He wondered if it was okay to be obnoxiously proud that his kid was so smart; smarter than him on many topics.
“Charlie is obsessed with all things dinosaur related, and recently added trains and Spiderman to his portfolio,” Marie informed him, using the child’s nickname.
“So tell me big guy, what’s so great about Spiderman?” Logan asked, wanting to understand what it was that kept the kid so happy – so goddamn positive about life.
“Well first of all he’s got the webs and he can swing really fast – like flyin’,” he said, with an expression that suggested anyone who didn’t know that was clearly out of touch. “But he saves people and stuff, too. He’s a good guy…like Mommy said you are. Mr. Logan, do you save people?”
“…Uh, I guess I have before – yeah.”
“Really?! Who’d you save?”
“…I don’t know - just some people I guess, here and there.”
“Logan saved me one time,” Marie interjected.
“Nuh-uh! Wow! Thanks Mr. Logan, you could be just like a real super hero!”
“…It’s just Logan, kid…no mister,” he said, ignoring the compliment.
“Who’s hungry?” Marie asked, changing the subject.
******
After a rushed dinner, they drove on into the evening. Once Charles began to nod off in the back seat again, they made the decision to stop somewhere for the night. Their old habit of run down motels wasn’t going to fly anymore either, so they drove until a Holiday Inn Express appeared alongside the Interstate. The freckle-faced young man at the front desk assumed the trio was a family and checked them into one room, two double beds, and no one argued.
Marie busied herself getting Charles ready for bed and found solace in that little bit of normalcy. She had every necessity either in the black duffle bag or somewhere in the Tahoe. She pulled out Charles’ pajamas, a bath toy, shampoo, soap, even a book for a bedtime story. The two of them walked into the bathroom, pushing the door closed.
Logan had watched the entire unpacking process in wonder. He had the clothes on his back and his wallet, and that was it. Which reminded him, he needed to get to the nearest bank and withdraw a lot of cash, and Marie needed to do the same. Check cards were too easy to track.
With this thought in mind, he quickly went into the bathroom to let her know the plan. He found her sitting beside the tub, helping Charles splash about in an attempt to get clean, both of them laughing at the mess they were making. He felt like an intruder, but ached to be a part of the warmth flowing around Marie and Charles. He needed to be a part of that.
“Oh, um – I thought of something … but it can wait.”
“Don’t be silly,” Marie stopped him. “Come in. What’s on your mind?”
He took a seat on the toilet and told her about taking most of their money out of the banks and using cash only. She towel dried Charles’ hair, helped him into his pajamas, and tucked him into bed as they discussed their plans for the next day. Charles, ever curious, would interject with questions, but Logan was distracted watching Marie’s gentle displays of affection. It came so naturally to her, the caring and nurturing, the hugs and kisses. He felt a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite identify, but it wasn’t all together unpleasant either.
Charles fell asleep on the second to last page of “How do Dinosaurs say goodnight?”, his long day eventually outmatching even the outrageous antics of the baby dinosaurs. Marie pulled his blankets a little higher, feathered a final kiss across his forehead, and slid off the bed.
“I’m gonna go get cleaned up – if that’s okay? Will you…if he wakes up, just let him know where I am,” she told Logan, still mesmerized by the sleeping face of their son.
She slipped into the bathroom and turned the shower as hot as she could stand.
Years of being a single parent had created the habit of dealing with issues alone, and in private. Marie stepped into the steam and spray and tried to block out reality and all the questions it brought. Would this now be her new normal; living in hotels, staying on the run? Would she find a safe place – was there such a thing as a safe place for her son?
Was Logan going to stay with them? Did she want him to stay? Her feelings towards him, never simple, were now a tangled, contradictory mass that felt too heavy to bear. But if he hadn’t been there today…would they have even made it this far? She bent her head into the harsh flow of water and swallowed the tears.
Logan had lowered the television and turned off the lights except for one small lamp near the door. He didn’t know if his kid was a light sleeper or not, but he thought it’d be a nice gesture. He didn’t have a clue about taking care of a four year old, so he thought he’d do best to go with his own preference for peace and quiet. He slowly took off his boots and eyeballed the youngster to make sure he was still asleep. Sitting on the other bed, Logan was caught in a quandary. Normally, he slept in the nude, but somehow that seemed wrong with a child in the room, not to mention his former lover, just one bed over. He damn sure wasn’t going to sleep in jeans though…
“…ah this is ridiculous,” Logan whispered to himself and quickly slid off his clothes and climbed under the covers.
If he had to get up for any reason, his jeans would be right beside him and he’d wake up before the kid did anyway. He stretched out on the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to make his mind and body relax. The last 48 hours weren’t helping, but the steady hum of the shower helped a little. He heard the sounds of Marie in there, moving around in the small bathroom. Even though it’d been years, it was a familiar sound and oddly calming. He avoided thinking too much about the details or visualizing Marie actually in the shower. He had a responsibility here, to her and Charles. Day dreaming about her and the things they used to do in showers were not a part of the equation. He put a mental chokehold on those thoughts.
Marie was in the bathroom for an eternity and by the time she opened the bathroom door, Logan realized his entire body was once again tight with anxiety. Her soft footsteps ruffled across the carpet as she put things away and flipped off the lamp. He knew without opening his eyes that she’d walked over to stand right beside him.
“…Logan?” she whispered, but her voice sounded distressed.
His eyes shot open.
“Yeah?”
Marie knelt down beside his bed and spoke quietly so as to not disturb Charles.
“I…I wanna thank you for today. For earlier…you know…at the house.”
He could hear the telltale shaking in her voice and rose up to his elbows, looking into a face that was illuminated on one side by the bathroom light. She met his eyes briefly and then dropped her head.
“You seem to show up when I need help the most and…I thought…”
She took a suspiciously rattling breath and Logan laid there, no intention of interrupting. He couldn’t even move, his body felt weighted down.
“…I knew they were gonna come for us one day. I did. I’d planned ahead for it…but… I guess you’re never really prepared and…I – I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”
Marie’s voice cracked and even though he couldn’t clearly see her face, he knew tears were sliding down her smooth cheeks. She took a fortifying breath.
“I’m glad you were there today. I am.”
She glanced up and the look she saw reflected in his eyes caused the dam to break. Tears silently streamed down her face.
“Logan…they were gonna take…Charles away,” her words were breaking up and she pleaded. “Please, don’t let them take my baby away from me.”
Without another thought, Logan sat up and pulled her into his arms. She muffled her sobs against his chest; the pressure from years of carrying the weight alone needing a release. He didn’t shush her or try any calming words; he just let her get it out. When her breathing finally grew shallow, he spoke.
“I’m not going to let them take Charles away from you,” he said sternly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you or our son, you hear me? I’m glad I was there today too. I’m glad I’m here now. This is where I’m supposed to – shit,” he sighed. “Marie, look at me.”
He cradled her jaw in his hands, lifting her gaze to his.
“I know that – well, I’ve made promises in the past that…I didn’t always…you know. But I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you and Charles are safe. I mean it.”
Marie’s chin nodded against his hand.
“I know you will.”
Logan’s face grew tight as he took a deep breath.
“Marie, I want you to know that I realize now what I did to you when I left and-“
“Shhh…,” she interrupted him, shaking her head. “Don’t…let’s, let’s not. I just wanted to say thank you.”
He quietly relished getting to hold her again, hold her face in his hand, and he felt his heart turn over hard when she looked at him with appreciation. Her hands came up to his and warmed them, a second before she pulled away.
She walked over and pulled the bathroom door almost closed, leaving just a shaft of light to creep through. Logan leaned back against his pillow and watched her crawl into bed beside their son.
“Good night Logan,” she said.
His response came automatically, “Good night, baby.”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
This takes place years after X3. Marie took the cure, it was permanent, and the Mutant Registration Act has gone into effect. She has her own life among humans while the world of mutants is thrown into chaos.
A very special thank you to both laenwyn and jaq_of_spades for beta; without you guys, this fic would not be here. Y’all are the greatest!
A very special thank you to both laenwyn and jaq_of_spades for beta; without you guys, this fic would not be here. Y’all are the greatest!