He stared at the girl for a moment, then turned on his heels and closed the door of the bedroom quietly. Reached for his jacket, and fished out a small cell phone.
He hated those tiny little gadgets with passion, but there were moments when they came in handy. Moments like this.
He stepped out from the cabin and closed the door behind him, quietly. Cringed when the hinges squeaked, but luckily the girl stayed asleep.
“It’s me. I have a bit of a… Situation here,” he blurted when a familiar voice rang from the other end of the line. Connection was poor, crackly, but words carried over clearly enough.
“I found her. She’s… She’s in bad shape.” And that was an understatement of the century.
“Physically she’s fine, as far as I can tell. Mentally… She’s a mess.” He leaned against the door and patted his pockets while the person at the other end of the line spoke, found a stub of cigar and lit it.
“Takes one to know one, Chuck. She’s a loon alright”, he grunted and took a drag, then puffed the smoke out slowly, savoring the taste on his tongue.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to bring her there. She’s not your average runaway. It’s quite a hassle to make her even wear clothes for most of the times…” First time he had seen her she had been laying on a plush velvet couch, naked as the day she was born, her glassy eyes reflecting the strobe light that was swirling at the ceiling.
“What? No! Those fuckers doped her up! I’m sure that she’ll be alright once it wears off, but in the meantime I think it’s better that we stay here.”
He cringed again and cut the connection. Opened the door and listened. The girl was still asleep. He left the door open and sat down, leaning his back against the doorframe and resting his eyes on a red hue of the setting sun.
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“Hey, kid… Put a shirt on. And pants,” he said. The girl in question sprinted back in to the bedroom, her whole body flushing crimson from embarrassment. He waited. No use to make a big deal about it.
It took a while, but finally the girl emerged from the bedroom. Oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweats. She was twiddling with the hem of the T-shirt nervously, her eyes skirting between his face and the floorboards beneath her feet.
He huffed, then stuck the cigar to the corner of his mouth and motioned her to come closer.
“Come here…” He grasped the hem of the shirt and yanked gently, forcing her to pull her hands inside of the shirt. One more yank and Donald Duck, grinning from ear to ear was now grinning from her chest instead of her back. He checked the sweats as well.
“Good. You’re getting better at this. But you better tie those laces before you drop your pants,” he grunted, pleased that she had remembered how to put the sweats on.
For a while the girl fiddled with the drawstring, then gave up. It was clear that the simple task of tying a knot was too much for her to handle.
“I’m not as sure as hell going to put my paws in to your pants. Sit down before they fall on their own.”
The girl complied, scooting a bit further from him as he would have preferred, but he let it slide. It wouldn’t do to get her all worked up now. For the first hours, before she went to bed, she had been afraid of him. Now that she seemed to remember who he was, at least to some extent, better let her be and make her own decisions.
They sat in silence for a long while, long enough for the sun set and moon to rise. It wasn’t before first stars emerged to the dark sky before the girl spoke for the first time.
“I’m… I’m Marie,” she said. Slight hesitation in her voice, quick glance towards him. He kept his eyes trained to the yellow orb of the moon.
“Marie. I’m Marie,” she repeated with confidence. There was still fear on her face when he turned to look at her.
“Yeah. You’re Marie,” he confirmed, then stood up. When she flinched and tried to scoot even further in to the corner she had earlier chosen it took him every ounce of willpower not to grab her. It took a physical effort just to step around her and return in to the cabin as if she hadn’t just curled to a tight ball to avoid possible kick and hail of insults. It took him even more not to crush the thermos with his bare hand. He grit his teeth and poured some coffee for himself. The girl would have to settle for herbal tea. He wasn’t going to give her anything stronger before he was absolutely sure that drugs had cleared from her system.
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“Hey, kid! Get back in before you freeze your ass,” he shouted. Perhaps louder than it was absolutely necessary, but she came in, even remembered to close the door after her.
“There. Have some tea. Hungry?” He asked, pushing the steaming cup in front of her when she sat down. She shook her head and leaned her elbows to the table, inhaling the aromatic steam that rose from the cup.
“We have muesli,” he said. He had been doing some last minute shopping, just trying to get everything and anything he could find that would make her feel comfortable and at home with him. He had found the cardboard packages from the furthest corner of the small grocery store. Clerk had been more than willing to let go of them, with a hefty discount. Nobody ate rabbit food at this corner of the world. Nobody except the girl named Marie.
Mention of muesli, delicates that would have made her mouth water and eyes sparkle just a month ago made no difference now. She just shook her head. He shook his head.
“We’re leaving in few days. We’re not going to leave food in here, draws rats and mice. If you think that I’m going to shovel two kilos of hay and grain down to my throat, think again, kid. Eventually you have to eat,” he said. His words drew a faint smile on her lips, and she opened her mouth as if she were to say something. Then, as suddenly as the last rays of the sun, all life vanished from her eyes and she bowed her head to hide the grin she didn’t quite manage to vanquish.
He wanted to lash out, tear in to anything and everything at his path, scream out his rage and frustration. Instead he left the table, opened the front door and sat down, leaning his back against the doorjamb. His numb fingers found a cigar. A lighter.
His hands shook when he lit the cigar.
A month.
It had taken him a mere month to find her.
It would take hell of a lot longer to pull her back home from the Hell she lived in.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
What if Logan and the X-Men failed to find Marie when Magneto kidnapped her? What if Magneto had different plans for her than what we saw in the movie?