Before we were hunted. That thought leads me to the reason I’m waiting for Vic in a rundown diner two towns over from where Logan and I, and our small band of runners are staying. You see, there’s been some really fucked up things happened to me in the last 8 years. Maybe I should start from the beginning. I’m Marie. I live off grid. Way the fuck off grid. I’m really good with computers.
Logan, he’s my husband, used to get worried when I would get online, or use the pre-paid cell, but he’s fairly cool with it now. Probably because they’ve saved our asses more than once. It’s like a grudging respect for technology. I’ve even gotten really good at constantly bouncing routers and taping into government satellites without them even knowing. We switch the phone every couple of months. It’s not hard, the things are completely untraceable. You can get one at any Best Buy, Wal-Mart, or Target around. Even grocery stores are carrying them now.
But I digress. When I was 18, right after high school, my mutation surfaced. Yep, I’m a mutant. I have deadly skin, that, if I so choose, can kill you in a matter of seconds. Only one person has ever survived. I should warn you that nearly everything brings me back to Logan. The diner I’m sitting in reminds me of the first place we ate when he saved my ass outside of some fight bar in Southern Ontario. I had been freshly able to drink in the great Province, and had proven so by ordering my very first legal drink. You’re legal at 19 there, so I still had a while if I felt like drinking in the States. Not that it mattered, fight bars don’t card you.
I had seen him in the ring. It was a sight, and I found myself quite mesmerized. Maybe that’s why I as paying too little attention to my surroundings. Maybe that’s why I made a mistake I hadn’t made but once in the entire time I’d been on the road. No matter where you are, your drink is sacred. Treat it like your life depends on its purity because more often than not it does.
I forgot one of the many Golden Rules of hitching that night. At the time, I just assumed they served stronger stuff than most, or the bartender had given me the good shit, instead of the bottom label whiskey they normally handed out with coke. I know now, that it was drugged. I also know now that Logan had noticed me as soon as I entered. As a matter of fact, he’d been keeping close tabs on me and was headed over, when I took a turn for the worst.
I had gotten terribly hot, and sweaty, and my vision was blurring. I thought that the crisp fall air would help. I hadn’t realized I was being followed, they had realized they were being followed. It was only seconds before I was alone and being accosted. I was so out of it I was barely able to keep my skin from touching theirs. One of them knocked me unconscious just as I heard Logan begin to howl. When I awoke seconds later, they hadn’t hit me very hard, Logan was beating one of the men nearly to death the others prostrate at his feet. Unconscious. I moaned low and I think that’s what caught his attention.
That was the very first time Logan’s fist got me out of trouble. It’s not that I get into trouble all the time, it’s just that men are pigs. He gave me a place to crash and took me to a diner the next day. Haven’t been apart since. At least, not of our own accord. We spent that winter in a spacious cabin in the Columbia Mountains in British Columbia. I was taught they were called the Rocky Mountains, but Canada and America have their differences of opinion on lots of things I’ve learned. It was the best winter of my life. Partly because I spent the entire time alone with Logan, partly because there was this wall of windows that gave me the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever scene in my life every morning, but mostly, it’s because that’s where I first learned to control the most basic, deadly aspect of my mutation.
Two years passed. Traveling, working, living. The things we’d been denied by society. I learned complete control over my abilities. I can touch with no repercussions, touch and read thoughts, touch and take life, touch and give life (that ones pretty complicated, I can’t bring someone back to life, but I can give them my strength). I can take powers and give them, transfer them and copy them. I can keep them forever, for only a short while, for as long as I want and discard them whenever. If I’m sleeping, I still, on a subconscious level, have control over my skin. But, if I’m unconscious, weather from a blow to the head, or a chemically induced sleep, I can’t.
I just keep getting off topic. Those first two years were great. Not a hitch, it wasn’t exactly picture perfect, but we got married and did our best. I didn’t like Logan cage fighting, so we decided to save up enough money to buy in at one of our favorite bars. Enough so that Logan and I got jobs bartending and waiting tables for as long as we want. We built a cabin on a small piece of land. As soon as I was able, Logan had me copy his healing and senses into my own mutation. He didn’t want me to ever be caught off guard or hurt again.
That’s where they found us. If I sound disgusted and annoyed all in one I am. I was 21, Logan and I had been married for a little over a year. I’m talking about the infamous X-Men. They weren’t exactly looking for me. They’d come in looking for Logan. It was common practice that anyone asking after me or Logan, weather they were talking to me or someone else, was sent straight to Logan. The sight of the pretty boy in the red shades, and his classy redheaded woman friend should have told me that this was only the beginning of a long rocky road, but it didn’t.
I sent them to Logan, we locked eyes for a split second and had a whole conversation right then. The redhead smiled at me and dismissed me with curt thanks. The guy with the funny shades grinned at me, and I swear he was ogling me behind the lenses. I remember thinking that it wouldn’t do him any good to be having those kinds of thoughts while talking to Logan. They’d stayed at the bar all night, trying to convince them to come back with him.
He’d told me later that they thought someone was after him. Magneto, but that’s getting ahead of the story. They hung around ‘til closing, which let me scuttling around the bar, keeping busy. They talked him about nothing important for the first fifteen minutes, I could tell they had wanted me to leave before they began the real talk. This was my first dilemma. From our silent conversation earlier, I could tell he wanted them to know nothing about me. I was to be a blip in the background. I also knew that they weren’t going to say a word to him until I had left.
I didn’t know who or what they we, but I’d heard stories, and I kept my thoughts directly on my work. I’d finished my closing tasks in 15 minutes, but Logan would have killed me if I had attempted to walk home by myself, so I had to find something else to do. We had three modes of transportation, and today we had opted to walk to work. We’d had a few run-ins in the years before that, and had come to the agreement that I don’t do things outside alone. Immediately I began the internal list of things I did before we closed down for a long holiday. It would add another hour to the task, and keep me in the back, and storage rooms for at least 45 minutes.
I tried really hard not to listen, which wasn’t all that hard in hindsight. Sometimes Logan found out things from his unknown past, and I wanted him to tell me himself. It felt like an invasion of privacy when I listened in on my husbands conversations, enhanced senses or not.
Eventually he had gotten them to leave, and we were on our way home. That’s when I heard the far fetched story about Magneto and his band of merry men. Suddenly I was lost in thought about a world I cared very little about. Political intrigue, mutant rights, bad guys, good guys, age old hatred, war. These were all bad things and I remember thinking in that exact moment, that nothing good can come of it. Boy, was I in for a whopper.
It wasn’t long after, maybe a week, that things took that downward turn I had been thinking about. It’s still hard for me to come to grips with how much on an integral part we played in the changing of the world. Logan and I were on our way to a lumber yard. We’d settled into a pattern of sorts. We still spent the better portion of winter in our cabin in the Rockies. (I still call them that, annoys the daylights out of Logan, but he doesn’t correct me anymore.) He built most of the furniture we used, and every now and then, he’d make a piece special for the cabin. It’s amazing the things that he can do with his hands.
That’s when Vic, or as he went by then, Sabertooth, attacked us. Basically a big fight, that I couldn’t help with because I was trapped in the tuck. It had flipped, and was on fire, I was screaming. I think that was the first time I’d ever wished I had copied Logan’s claws too, because he was unconscious and Vic had turned his attention to me. Here’s where the X-men make their second appearance. At the time, I was supremely shocked to see one of the most beautiful black women I’d ever seen come floating down out of the air. And Glasses Guy was there, wearing some kind of Star Trek visor. He’d shot Vic with a blast of red light, (which I found out later was one of the hardest things he’d ever had the opportunity to heal) and he went flying.
They got us out of there, Logan was still unconscious and I was worried. Nearly in hysterics when they got us aboard their jet, the pretty redhead from before gave me some quadruple dose of some sleeping narcotic, because the first three didn’t work. Healing and all. I woke up in a room, clothed from head to toe, and with a raging head. I calmed the voices and banished them without knowing who they were. Someone must have touched me while I’d been drugged, because otherwise they would have left some skin showing.
That was the first time I’d worn gloves in a year and a half, and I couldn’t stop the flood tide of emotion that overwhelmed me at the sight of them. I was crying and wearing strange clothes. Those didn’t smell like Logan and I wanted mine back, but I couldn’t find them. I left the gloves and the helpless feeling that went with them on the floor of the room. I must have looked wild while I searched for any trace of Logan’s scent, because the children and adults that I passed shied away from me. It brought another wave of shame and tears, reminding me of the days when I couldn’t control my mutation and people stayed as far away as possible.
I was beginning to loose my mind. Why weren’t any of these people offering my help? Where the hell was I? I’d caught two or three of the barest traces of Logan before they were gone so quickly I’d thought I imagined them. There were voices echoing in my head, driving me nuts. Going this way and that. Down one empty corridor to another. I tried ignoring them, but got so far turned around that I didn’t know which way they wanted me to go, and I didn’t know which way to avoid.
The redhead caught me going around a corner, and jerked back like I’d hit her. The fear and insecurity of that day is so fresh in my mind, sometimes it’s like watching a movie.
“Where is he?” I screamed.
“The man you were riding with?” she asked. She was still standing away from me. I could smell my own nervousness and fear that I wondered if maybe she could too.
“He’s safe.” She replied, reaching out a hand tentatively toward me. Maybe she could smell my mood. “Why don’t’ you come with me and lie down, you may still have some injuries.”
She kept her hand hovering near my elbow. Maybe she’s the one who’d touched me. If so, wouldn’t she be unconscious? Maybe it didn’t last as long on mutants. I was sure at that moment that she was one. Why else would she be so comfortable around me. “Where?” I growled. I’d managed to maintain a small portion of Logan’s personality, to help me out in situations just like this one. He thought I was sexy when I growled.
I took a good whiff of her scent, memorizing it learning it for tracing later if necessary. Besides, I wanted to know whenever the good doctor was around. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just find it myself, and you wont’ like that outcome.”
She drew here eyebrows together, studying me. I felt a curious nudging in my head, and pushed back. I’m very skilled in my own head. You have to be with a power like mine. Logan thinks that being able to access more of my brain is part of my mutation, since I take on personalities and memories of everyone I touch. I think I agree.
“Who is he to you?” She had balls, this bitch. It’s obvious I’m in a really bad fucking mood, and here she is, hinting about my personal relationships. I was too angry to comply.
“None of your goddamn business. Tell me where to find him.” I snarled. She got this funny dazed look on her face and asked me to follow her. The only problem with keeping a little bit of Logan’s personality is dealing with the feral side of the man I love. It’s a little hard to handle. And when people are doing things, like deliberately keeping me from my husband, I get a little bit unpredictable. So when I walked through the big sliding metal doors, and saw him laying there, barely covered, and hooked up to medical equipment I nearly lost it.
Some people just don’t know a fucking thing. Excuse my language. I sprinted toward him, reaching out for the wires, determined to save him from the horror of waking up to the seeming reality of another nightmare. What I didn’t expect, during my haze of fear, was to be frozen solid where I stood. My fingers were mere inches from his arm, and I longed to touch him, to prove to myself that he was really there.
“Why do you want to touch him when you know you will hurt him?” Stupid-bad-dye-job-redheaded-slut.
“I would never. Who the fuck are you? What do you want with us? Don’t you realize what is going on? You need to unhook him and get him out of here. You’re not making anything better.” I was idly amazed that I could talk and move my head around, because I turned to glare at her, but still not move my body. “And fucking let me go!”
“You need to put your gloves on first. You injured one of our team, and we can’t have you running around willy nilly touching people.” My jaw actually dropped. She was talking to me like a child. In her 30+ years of life I’d bet she’d never experienced half of what I did spending a year on the road. Besides, I was 21 years old. How dare she!
“I’m not having this conversation with you. Leave me the fuck alone. Let me go, and undo him.”
“I’m sorry, that’s just not possible.” Then, there was a searing pain and I saw black.
I remember waking up in that same room again, but this time strapped down and gloved up. The fear, anger, resentment, and utter panic had me screaming in seconds. Glasses Guy and the Fly Girl (my own personal nicknames) came running. The panic was acute and I wanted out. Eventually they let me up, and had me wondering why Logan hadn’t come running. The doors were locked, and Fly Girl, whom I was told was called Storm, was sitting with me, trying to pry the details of my relationship with Logan out of me. I wouldn’t budge, until my stomach rumbled and she changed tactics.
The only downfall I’ve ever settled upon about the healing factor is that I eat my weight in food every day. And I hadn’t had anything for who knows how long. A girl can only handle so much, and when a large plate of food loaded up with everything a girl could ask for was wheeled in, I spilled between bites. I was not prepared for their reaction. That started a two-day, yes two-fucking-day, marathon of questions about my age, being taken advantage of, had I been coerced… Every question you can think of as to why I had ended up with a man at least 10 years older than me. I was not going to tell them he was probably a hundred years older than me.
I’m not sure what they had been giving him to keep him under, and I was getting worried, because all anyone would tell me was that he was safe. I knew that he could pretty much get himself out of anything, barring the fact that they had an adamantium encased cell, and I was getting worried that he hadn’t come for me. Not because I was worried about any of those girly heart-breaky feelings, but because there were only a few things that could keep him down.
Xavier came in at the end of the second day, asking me all kinds of questions, and putting me in this weird trancelike relaxed state that I was sure he was artificially creating, and I didn’t want to answer his questions but I did. They left each night, locking the door, and I found myself once again wishing I’d had Logan’s claws.
It was the second night, after they’d locked me in, that I found myself crying in bed. It was so lonely and I just wanted Logan. I thought I imagined his scent until I heard the faint ‘snikt’. I was out of bed and standing about 3 feet from the door when it swung open.
Thinking back, its odd how instead of launching myself into his arms, like I wanted to, I sank boneless to the floor. He was there to catch me of course. He kicked the door closed and held me while I spilled the entire ordeal in hushed whispers and choking sobs. He kissed my face and then we made love. I’m sure that everyone in the mansion heard me.
The next morning was interesting. The door wouldn’t close the night before, so it was gaping open a bit. I remember waking up flat out on my stomach, sheets riding low, half on top of Logan. Three things had happened simultaneously that morning. I smelled others and immediately snapped my eyes open. Logan leapt from the bed. Glasses Guy and Fly Girl swung the door open.
I remember seeing them clearly because I had been facing the door, I also remember scrambling to pull the sheets up from where Logan had disturbed them (and me) during his launch. Glasses Guy was ogling. Fly Girl was remarkably calm and poised. The Good Doctor, whom I’m assuming had come running at someone’s startled yell, was also ogling and managing to look perfect doing it. The Bitch.
There was lots of arguing and screaming and cowering. That last one was just me, I was severely afraid that somehow they were going to take me from him. I mean, legally, they couldn’t. That thought hadn’t lessened my fear any. The three of them had managed to see them selves out while Logan and I dressed. I had put my gloves on and when Logan saw them he’d nearly lost it. Snatched them off my hands and tossed them across the room.
“I never, ever want to see those things on you again, unless you’re freezing.” He’d said it calmly, but he was looking in my eyes and no more needed to be said. He pulled a few more layers off of me, leaving me in a tank and a long sleeve shirt. I never quite realize how easy it is to fall back into old habits when you’re around people who treat you like a leper. I’d even told them I had control; but she knocks me unconscious, and touches my skin, and suddenly it’s my fault.
I’d laced up my boots, threw on my coat (since I still couldn’t find my own clothes I had to make due) and we went in search of Logan’s things. We had been on our way to the Med-Bay when Scott, (I’d given up on my nicknames when I was telling Logan everything that happened when he was asleep) and Jean stopped us.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Scott said, obviously annoyed at the thought of our leaving.
Snarling Logan turned on him. “Wherever the fuck we want to go.”
Since we’d been here I’ve taken to shrinking away, and I could tell it bothered Logan more than he was letting on. A low growl came from his throat as he noticed Scott’s eyes on me again. The other man quickly looked away.
“Well, you can leave if you really want to, and Xavier would like to speak with you as well. But I think that Marie should stay with us. It’s not right for her to be staying with you.” The Bitch has found her voice, and I’ll be damned if she isn’t spewing condescending shit out of it.
“I think that it’s none of your damned business if I go with Logan or not.”
“Well, for now.” That mother fucking-
“Listen, I’ll go and talk to this Xavier of yours, but I’m not leaving Marie anywhere. And I suggest you keep your comments to yourself.”
We went toward Xavier’s office and I explained to Logan everything thing I thought about the man, on the way. I told Logan about the knocking in my head from Jean, and what I’d recently learned about each person’s powers. I told him about the trancelike state I’d been put in, and I told him what the knocking felt like. I hadn’t wanted to sit in on the conversation, seeing as how I’d had my fill of action for the last few days, so instead I found my way to the library.
An hour passed, during which time I’d found a corner and tried to read a copy of ‘Emma’. Turns out I was the topic of the local high school gossip. Ever since I’d learned the tidbit that this was a school, I’d been on the look out for students. It was interesting to see others like me. Others that weren’t locking me up and telling me that my husband was taking advantage of me.
The word on the grape vine was that a young girl had shown up unconscious with an older man in tow. She had deadly skin, he had claws. It was like some plot of a torrid romance novel absent the happy ending. Word was out that Glasses Guy, Fly Girl, and The Bitch had caught us nude together (yes, I went back to the nicknames). They talk like we’re not married. Maybe they didn’t tell them. What did they think it wasn’t legal or anything?
I was fuming when Logan collected me from the library. I prefer anger to all my other emotions, but sometimes the others win. It’d been a long time though. Things had been so good, I should have known better before all that shit started. Logan told me how Xavier told him that this Magneto guy had plans, and they didn’t know what they were. Logan wanted to get out right away, but Xavier said he could pool his contacts for info about his past, and try to find something out. Dangle the right bait, and you’ll agree to anything. Xavier sure has a built in knack for finding the right bait.
So, we were sticking around. Logan talked to them, a lot. I avoided them as little as possible. Logan laid ground rules and refused to show documentation of our marriage. They had three days, before we took off again. I’m afraid that was my fault. Logan knew I was uncomfortable, but when people tend to treat you like a leper, it rubs pretty deep into your psyche.
It happened the afternoon of the day we left. Xavier had told us that Logan was part of some program called ‘Weapon X’ and gave him a list of names to contact. He had warned us about a few in particular, but I memorized the entire list anyway. It’s a good thing to have an ear out for. We had stopped at a small eatery, preferring not to eat in the borrowed Tahoe. Logan and I had been walking back to said Tahoe, his inability to move alarming us early. We had been warned of Magneto’s power. Logan had this ludicrous idea for me to run. In hindsight, I don’t think it would have made a difference.
When I belatedly took Logan’s advice to run, Toad quickly caught up to me. Vic was right behind him. The last thing I remember hearing was Logan screaming in his berserker rage, frozen where he stood.
I got the rest of the story days later. Apparently I’d been kept in a chemical induced coma, which made my powers uncontrollable. Magneto had called Xavier, asking him once more to join him in the battle against humans. A battle in which I was to be the weapon of choice, and an unwilling participant. Xavier refused, (of course) told him he didn’t approve of the plan and the way he was carrying it out. You see, Magneto had a machine; he hooked me up to it. This spectacular machine needed his powers to run. Somehow he found out that he could transfer his powers to me and I could run this machine. See, the reason they wanted someone else to do it, is because on the grandiose scale they were going to use, it would have killed him.
We’re still not sure if Magneto knew I had healing or not. It’s quite unsettling to know that he might have killed me. I mean, Vic could’ve touched me, if he’d known. It’s all kinda sketchy. You see, Victor is a mercenary. He doesn’t fight for any cause unless it’s his own. He follows the money, and apparently Magneto had lots of it. So, Xavier refused to send his team in. Actually Magneto had set up the place to blow if they got involved, and Xavier was willing to trade my life for theirs.
Logan makes it to me after quite a few battles. He’d fought Toad (who is literally a mutant with toad like abilities), and Mystique (who is a shapeshifter; she can change her size, look, voice, gender she can also pretty much kick ass), and Magneto. He was still so weak from having given unconscious me his powers, that he couldn’t even control the metal anymore. Also, he managed to turn every one of the world leaders, and other humans in attendance that day, into mutants. They’re all dead now. Something about their bodies not being able to handle the forced mutations.
A war broke out. Kinda like the civil war, but with the humans against the mutants, obviously the mutants lost. Half of those who fought were slain. The other half went into hiding. Since then, half of those free have been either massacred, or sold into slavery with suppression collars or bracelets, or some other type of jewelry. They prefer collars, makes us more obvious as different.
The ones that were put into slavery were sold. Into camps or private homes. I guess the old constitution didn’t cover that the first time around. Every baby born is checked for the mutant gene, if they’re found to have it, they’re removed from their parents and sent to live with mutant couples already in captivity. Can you imagine having your children ripped from you before you get to meet them, luckily Logan can tell when I’m ripe (for lack of a better word), so we just don’t. I couldn’t live though that. I’ve come to think that the children brought into slavery will just be even more hateful mutants.
It’s surprisingly fitting, but Xavier and his school managed to move to Finland before the controversy broke out. Magneto is dead now, along with Toad. Mystique is off grid too, but Vic has latched onto our underground mutant ring. Guess he considers it his cause.
Which kinda brings me to why I’m here. That waitress over there is the epitome of every diner waitress I’ve had the privilege to meet. Someone’s seen Vic in the parking lot. There’s always a reaction. There’s a girl over there that just got a little bit horny. There’s a guy at the bar who’s just a little scared. The waitress’s and cooks could care less, even when he walks in the door and towers over everyone.
It’s odd, to see Vic in ‘Underground Chic’ (I’m hilarious), I’m guessing the first thing that people notice about him, is his height. I’m looking at him through my eyelashes as he comes toward me, it would draw too much attention if I openly stared. His hair is cropped short now, darker than you would think, maybe it lightens when it grows out. He’s got this goatee thing going on, along his jaw line and around his mouth, cropped really close. He’s got these really intense brown eyes, like milk chocolate, or chestnut. They’re lying eyes, because he can make you believe anything. I’ve had the opportunity to see Vic in a feral rage once. Logan was there, and the testosterone-Alpha-male-old-friends-at-each-others-throats stuff was so thick, you could cut it with a butter knife.
He slides into the booth across from me, and smiles at the pretty waitress while he orders coffee. I pick up my own cup, and greet him with a nod. I notice he’s wearing black leather gloves on his hands, he strips them off and rubs them together. They’re just as big as the rest of his frame. She’s pouring his coffee and chatting with him, and I look him over. We only meet like this once a month, and we shoot for different days and places each time. It’s dangerous otherwise.
He’s got on jeans, I’d noticed this when he came in, and from what I can tell, a thermal undershirt, several layers of shirts over that. There really is only one mode of dress when you’re in the Canadian Wilds and winter is coming. He startles me by speaking first.
“You have to move.” Hold the fucking train, this is a little heavier than we usually start conversation.
“What?” I couldn’t have been more confused. Vic had to be out of his goddamn mind.
“Look, they know, not precisely where, but they know in your area. They know about your powers, and Logan’s, they know about Lillian and Eli. They don’t have detailed descriptions, just two men, and two women. They know you’re couples, they’ll be on the look out. Look, we can talk more back at the cabin, Hazel and I will follow you back.” I eyed him skeptically the whole time, I have no idea how Logan would react to Vic and Hazel coming to the cabin. He was tense though, I could smell it, and some kind of detached fear. Hazel must be in his truck,
Fuck it, Logan can deal with this shit however he wants to. “What about the other safe houses?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee. I had to know if others were in danger as well.
“I haven’t heard anything. It’s almost as if it’s personal.” He growled after that.
“Let’s go see Logan.” I sighed.
The 40 minute drive was long and quiet, usually I play the radio and enjoy my little bit of solitude, pretend the world isn’t out to get me. Today wasn’t one of those days. I guess we’d gotten too comfortable here, Logan and Eli working and hunting days, Lillian and I waiting tables at night, we spent our mornings recovering, and our days keeping house. We had each weekends off. We had fallen into a relaxed rut.
Usually my visits to Rock Creek (where I meet Vic) are uneventful, I learn of any military movements, mobile medical units (they do random DNA checks on people they think might be mutants), rumors, or stragglers that need a rest. You see, in Osoyoos we had been set up as a stop of this sort of informal Underground Railroad. We keep appraised about what is going on by informal meetings.
Logan would generally be the one to do these meet-and-greets, but the same testosterone-Alpha-male-old-friends-at-each-others-throats stuff that I was talking about earlier, tends to get in the way. One says something, the other replies; it turns into a yelling match that draws attention. Which we don’t want, so I sacrifice one of my afternoons, every month and come see Vic. Have coffee, talk for a bit, and head home with some useful information. Of course today had to be different. I was heading home, Vic and his mate Hazel in tow, imminent danger hanging over our heads.
Logan’s truck was in the drive when we arrived, and he stepped out onto the porch when he realized it wasn’t just Lillian’s Jeep coming down the drive. I jumped out as soon as I could, and half, ran half sprinted into him. I’m freaking out here, we’ve gotta run again, and there’s no telling how long it’ll be for this time. We need to find ways to make money, places to stay (at least once a week), and we’ve gotta do it all off grid. We’ve got some money, in certain bank accounts that I’ve managed to spirit away.
It’s my opinion that we should just go to the Cayman Islands and buy two little huts (three now if Vic and Hazel are coming) like a football field apart, and just wait. No one thinks I’m serious though.
But back to my current drama, I’m effectively wrapped around Logan, and he scoops me up and into the house. It’s been 5 years since the incident at Xavier’s School for the Gifted, but I still find myself permanently changed by it. I still shrink away; certain situations still send me into shivers that I can’t control. I hate being locked up (I’ve developed a touch of claustrophobia, the kind where if I can’t move freely, or see an immediate out, I freak), I don’t take being separated from Logan for more than twelve hours very well, and I’ve realized that I’ve got a lot more feral in me than I originally thought.
He’s very sensitive to these changes, and he can tell I’m a little fragile with worry right now. We’re settled onto the couch, and I’m still buried into him. He smells of leather and carpentry, cigar smoke and Logan. It’s the most calming thing in the world to me. I wish I could bottle it. I want nothing more to crawl into our bed, and make love until I can’t move and his scent surrounds me, but I still have to wait tables later.
I tune back in, because they’re speaking now. “What have you heard?”
Vic growled a bit, not enjoying the second in command place he was forced into. “They know that two men and two women are living in Osoyoos, they know all four are mutants, and they know you’ve got metal in your bones, but it sounds as if in the Canadian government has been putting adamantium into a bunch more people in the last 22 years, so they’re not sure which one you are. They know they want you back, and they’re intrigued about which mutants you’d be hanging around with. They don’t know any identifying characteristics, and they don’t know any names.”
Logan rubbed my back absently, working over thoughts in his head. I glanced over at Hazel and smiled. I’d seen her many times over, and never stopped being amazed at her beauty. I’m not sure what she does, but it works. Her mutation is amazing. She’s a feral, heightened senses (but not as enhanced as ours) and she doesn’t age. She doesn’t heal, but for some reason her body just stops her from aging past about 25. She and I look about the same age, even though I haven’t aged in two years. I’m 26, but I look 24. I’ve never asked how old she is.
I often wonder how Vic feels about that, I’d never ask though. Not about the aging thing, about the healing thing. I can imagine that Logan knows how he feels, but I think I’d be crazy with worry all the time. Logan interrupted my thoughts.
“We do have to leave, we’ll proceed with our night like normal, but instead of coming home, we’ll take off.”
“Ugh, I don’t’ want to work tonight.” I mumbled, sounding like a child. I don’t give a shit. I gave Logan a specific look, which said ‘I want to stay in bed with you all night if we have to get back on the road.’ I frowned some more.
He pulled me in for a hard kiss and it was a minute before we came up for air. He stood, with me still wrapped around him, and shot a meaningful look at Eli, who shot off like a hawk. He looked at Lillian, sent her some random thought, (it was probably something in the lines of, ‘get laid in a bed while you still can’) and turned to look at Vic.
“You coming with us?”
“I figure that three couples traveling cross country will throw them off looking for us.”
“Be ready.” Logan said with a nod. Vic and Hazel were out the door and I heard their truck pulling out a matter of seconds later. Right before Logan kicked the door to our room shut.