Cure
She had watched his retreating back until it was only a small dot in the distance. Then she had collected her stuff, slung backpack over her shoulders, turning exactly opposite direction. It had been a week ago. Hardest decision of her life. And still she could feel his presence, hovering at the outskirts of her camp at night, trailing behind her during days. Yet every time she looked, there was nothing there. And now she started to get worried for real. Last two nights something or somebody had clearly been watching her. She had found footprints and broken branches in the morning just few meters away from her tent.
“If it’s you, Logan, might as well come out!” She shouted, voice quivering. Dry branch snapped, but that was only response to her invitation. For the umpteenth time she cursed her foolishness. When she had traveled with Logan, she hadn’t seen the need to acquire any kind of weaponry. Her skin was enough to keep possible attackers at bay before Logan finished them off. Now she didn’t have the luxury of crazed bodyguard. She was truly alone. She had collected a pile of rocks next to her campfire, and she kept small knife at hand all the time, but she doubted they would be enough if her mystery stalker got tired just fallowing her around.
“What ever. I’m not going to sleep tonight, so might as well find yourself someone else to stalk. I have a knife. And I know how to use it.” She did her best to hide traces of fear from her voice and behavior.
Third night she was exhausted. Instead of sleeping her nights were spent watching over her shoulder, fearing possible attack. Days went by in a haze. She was forced to take small naps during the day, just few minutes at once, just to stay awake. She started to miss Logan. He had been crazy, but at least she knew what to expect from him. He had kept her relatively safe, if that final, very weird night wasn’t taken in to count.
Fourth night she realized something was really wrong. She had blamed her exhaustion and lack of strength sleep deprivation. When headache and chills started she was fairly sure she wouldn’t make it. It had to be Legacy. Who, or what ever was tracking her, had granted her death sentence.
“Fine. You won. Why don’t you come and collect your prize?” She croaked, voice broken and laid next to fire, closing her eyes. Small rustling sound. Heavy thuds. Warm breath and huffing over her face. Deep, rumbling echo. A sneeze and something slimy, sticky substance all over her skin. Retreating heavy footsteps. She opened her eyes and managed to get a glimpse from a huge bear before it disappeared to woods. Her eyes drifted shut and she fell to a deep, dreamless sleep.
“Gross…” She was covered in bear snot. And she was sick. Had been over a day, so she was quite sure she wasn’t going to die after all. She just had a bad case of flu. She wanted to go home. Warm, soft bed. Warm cocoa. Good book and box full of Kleenex. Long, warm bath. Bobby bringing her chicken soup. There was Jean too. Smiling and telling her everything would be all right soon enough. Jubilee hopped by. She tried to ask if she could hand her the box of chocolates from the side table, but she was gone before she got her voice back in working order. Professor played chess with Eric. They had a giant chess table with life-sized chess pieces. Magneto’s pieces were made of grey metal. Professor’s pieces were life-like images of every X-Man, every mutant she had ever seen. She asked if she could join to the game, but both men shook their heads. Magneto told her he needed her healthy and alive. She promised to get better soon. He tried to trick her to use her mutation, but she was cleverer than he gave her credit for. She ran off before old geezer got his hands on her. Suddenly Scott stood in front of her, blocking her way. He was telling her to go back. To turn around. Something dark and feral loomed behind his back. She tried to tell him Magneto was after her, but Scott turned his back on her and concentrated expelling the beast. Somewhere a baby cried. Not her baby. Why didn’t somebody go and take care of it? Her head hurt. Then Jean was there again, offering her some pills. They tasted god-awful, but she took them anyway when Jean told her with quite masculine voice to swallow them, they would help her get better. They filled her head with cotton and cobwebs, but it was improvement. She didn’t have the energy to deal with all the people rattling around.
When she woke up she felt hundred percent better. Fever and pain was gone. She still felt weak, but she was warm and relaxed. She lay in a real bed. There was an old, weathered looking man sitting on a chair next to her bed.
“Welcome back,” man said with quiet voice. Relief was evident on his bearded face. He looked a bit like a Santa Claus. Skinny, but same kind of thick white beard and hair. Kind eyes.
“I’ll go tell your friend,” he said and left.
She sat up slowly. World spun around her wildly for a second, but then dizziness passed and she could see again. It was a small room. From window she could see lots of trees. Weather looked nice. Sun was shining brightly.
“Sitting up already?” Old man was back.
“Don’t worry. Your friend will be here in a minute. I have some things to take care of outside, you can have some privacy,” he said, chose a thick book from the shelf on a wall above the bed and left again. A friend? Who was he talking about?
There was a knock on the door, then without waiting an invitation Logan walked in. He looked tired and worn out.
“I was going to leave you alone. Then I came by some people. They had a camp near New York. No food, no clothes. They had next to nothing, but they had stayed alive over winter, because they had each other. I promise I won’t touch you. You don’t even have to talk to me. But let me stay with you. Please.”
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