Title: Piles of Worries

Series: Last Call

Rating: PG 13
Verse: Post X3
Summary: Suddenly things take a different turn, and emotions need to be carefully handled.
Genre: Angst, Shipper
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men, Marvel does.
Author's Note: Here is Chapter 4, tell me what you think is going to happen next, and how you think everything is going so far! Thanks to my beta Meg who saved part of this that was all kids of wonky!

 

So much for not having to worry about nightmare. Apparently even the in-the-flesh scent of Logan can’t keep them away. If you have to put dreams on a scale of one to ten, one being the kind that causes you heart to ache, and ten being the kind that causes you to fear for you life and think they’re real, these would have been an eight. They were nightmares of Logan leaving, nightmares of being attacked, of what could’ve been if Logan hadn’t shown up. Lots of flashes of lots of memories. For once in a long time I’ve had a nightmare that I can’t blame on someone else. I still do have the other sometimes, but I think I’ve just had them for so long now that they’re mine.

I shot up in bed with a scream in my throat and already crying. My chest heaved but I couldn’t catch my breath. The tears created hot tracks down my cheeks and suddenly Logan was there, hands on my back, caressing. I breathed him in like the elixir of life and it calmed me a little bit. In retrospect it’s just bit worse than the heartache I’ve woken up with for the last month and a half. I had started to calm down so I pulled back from him a bit, releasing his white t-shirt from where I can’t remember having gripped it. I smoothed out the wrinkles.

“Nightmare?” He asked, looking down at me. I avoided his gaze and chose not to answer. “Hey, look at me,” the softly spoken words weakened my resolve and I let him turn my face up to his. It’s a little weird having the old Logan back after so long, I missed him so. I took a shaky breath and right at him; his golden eyes shined down into mine. He was concerned.

“Nightmare.”

“Shit, whose?” he asked me, the traditional fear that he’d managed to upset me after so long. I answered as honestly as I know how. 

“Mine, believe me, these are all mine.” I’m so shamed I can practically smell it. He must have, because he brought his arms around me and pulled me in tight.

“You weren’t in bed.” I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. I go from running to needy in seconds flat. Here we go rollercoaster of emotions. Maybe I should eat some chocolate.

“No, I was afraid.” His gaze flickered nearly unnoticeably down to his hands and I reached out for one and gave the much abused skin some extra lovin’.

“You didn’t hurt me… before.” I couldn’t even talk of ‘The Great Sin’. It still felt like the world was going to come tumbling down around my ears. I wanted to be happy in spite of everything that we had yet to accomplish, but I couldn’t. That time had passed while I’d been unconscious last night and I couldn’t appreciate it. I didn’t look forward to inspecting the damage, although I’d known Logan had to have done it the night before.

“I didn’t want to take any chances. I was pretty keyed up last night.” The tone of his voice was confusing, I couldn’t untangle the anger, shame, fear, and acute ferity from each other. I considered that for a moment, before lying back down and dragging him with me. He held me for a few minutes while I debated which subject to broach first.

 “We have to talk.” I wondered how loud my Speedy Gonzales heartbeat sounded. It must have been reminiscent of a hummingbird.

“We do, but first we should eat, and then go to the police station, then get your head checked out.” He extracted himself from the bed and crossed to the table. “I’ve showered already. I’ll go to the diner and get food, you shower and eat.” He picked up his jacket from where it lay on the floor next to the bed, and brought it up to his face, taking a deep testing breath before pulling it on. I steeled myself to go back into the bathroom. It took several minutes and by then he was already gone.

My arms and face were tingling when I turned on the water.

I showered, and shaved and brushed my teeth. I brought my comb gingerly through my hair but couldn’t find the spot where Logan said I’d hit my head. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a tank top. A long sleeve shirt, zip up hoodie, and my coat waited patiently for me to brave the cold. I was slipping my black boots onto my feet when Logan came back in. There used to be something secure in the idea of room with actual keys. Now I just wanted out. I said so.

“As soon as the police say ok, we’re gone, baby. I looked at the Jeep, and I can tie my bike to the back.” I nodded and dug into the eggs and bacon and every imaginable bit of breakfast food you can fit into a diner carry out box.

Afterward, when the food was gone and the mess cleaned up, Logan and I prepared to go to the police station. It was nice to pretend every thing was perfect, that my little dream had come true. But I was an adult now, and it was time to put away childish thing. Things like dreams of happily ever after because my arms were tingling again.

Despite every cell of my body wanting to pretend everything was ok, I realized that I had to broach the subject of ‘The Great Sin’. “Logan,” his golden eyes came up to meet mine, and my heart nearly broke at the smile in them. I had caused him so much pain. I had caused myself so much pain. “That night,” he cut me off.

“Later.” His tone told me he’d brook no argument. “Now, let me look at your head again. I want to check that bump.”

He didn’t look at me oddly when I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt, just in case, and made my way over to him. I wasn’t sure what had pushed me to be afraid of my skin all over again, I’d told myself that the cure couldn’t be failing. Not me. Not now. I settled on the floor between his legs, My cheek rested on his thigh, the thin carpet did nothing to cushion the floor under my knees.

I managed not to flinch when he touched me. His fingers probed my scalp running lightly through my hair. I heard him take a long sniff. Testing my scent.

“Marie,” he started.

“It’s gone isn’t it?”

“Marie, how,” he was concerned and confused. I couldn’t blame him I was too.

“When I took a shower, I couldn’t find it. I brushed my hair, and there was no tenderness. I don’t have any kind of headache. Logan, how bad was it?”

“You should still have an ugly bump Marie.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, as he thought. I didn’t want to let them fall, so tried to hold my emotions in check. He stroked my hair, looking across the room at the table. “Are you sure you could still smell me on the coat?”

Confusion had the same effect as a splash of water. “Yes,” I started indignantly. “I’ve been sleeping with it every night, I’m definitely sure it still smelled like you.” His eyes took on this haunted expression for a moment and I realized the impact my words had. When I started to broach the subject again, he brushed me off.

“Think really hard Marie, you’re sure.” I told him I was, and he thought for a few more seconds before going on. “Marie, I could barely smell anything but you on that coat. My scent markers were almost completely gone.” I couldn’t wrap my brain around what he was trying to say. “Listen, what do you hear?”

I was still completely lost, but I tried to concentrate on his words. “Cars, people, birds, woods. Normal small town stuff.” I was confused, irritated, and wished my hands and arms would stop tingling. “Logan, I don’t understand.” He was still staring at me when I growled.

My hand clamped over my mouth and took a step backward, which brought me into contact with the bad and made me fall backward onto my ass on the blankets. I grabbed the hoodie and pulled it over my head, and slid on a pair of gloves. Logan must not have been prepared for my reaction because I also had my coat on and both items zipped before he made it to my side. I pulled both hoods over my head, the black fake fur from my coat obscuring my vision slightly.

“Marie, no.” He reached for my hands, and I jerked back, scrambling backwards across the bed. I wasn’t paying attention and fell into the space between the wall and the bed. I stood to run, but he was between me and the door now, and all I wanted was fresh air.

“Logan,” I didn’t have the strength anymore and my knees hit the floor. “How? Why me?” I asked him through my tears. He pushed the hoods back and ran one hand through my hair and cupped my cheek with one hand. I flinched and the look in his eyes was like ice.

“You don’t do that, not with me,” he said pulling my face to his neck. He pulled off my coat, hoodie and gloves while I cried into his neck.

“I don’t understand…”

“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry baby. We’ll figure it out. Calm down. See, you’re fine, I’m fine and we’re touching. It’s not gone.” He took a second to breathe my scent in deeply. “You smell fine, a little off, but fine. There’s nothing wrong with you.” We sat like that for a while, him rubbing my back, me drinking in his scent and listening to his heart.

“I can hear your heartbeat.” There was awe in my voice when I spoke. I could feel him smile into my hair. “My arms and face have been tingling.” He doesn’t pull away and I’m actually amazed. I chastise myself, if there’s anyone who’s never been afraid, it’s Logan.

“You okay now?” I nodded into his neck, and leaned back. “Let’s get to the police station so that we can get the hell outta here.” He helped me to my feet and I threw all my stuff on. We walked across town to the Police Station.

Three hours and one angry Logan later we were in the Jeep headed south. Two bathroom breaks after that and we were parked at a lake sitting at a picnic table covered with sandwich stuff and water bottles. Logan was pacing back and forth mumbling about ‘stupid fucking police’ and ‘mutant hating mother fuckers’. The visit to the police station hadn’t gone well.

Apparently since my wounds had healed, and nothing had been taken, they couldn’t charge the clerk with anything. And someone had recognized me. I think that’s what pissed Logan off the most. I was pretty angry too, but I didn’t have the energy to pace like he was doing.

“I don’t know how… I thought… ” I stuttered as I looked down at the book in front of me. “Isn’t this illegal? These are medical documents… ” Page after page of mutants who’d taken the cure filled with information. Pictures, names descriptions of their old powers, where they lived, the last place they were seen, and the date they’d taken the cure all there in living color and yours for 5 bucks.

I stared at the picture of myself. I remembered when they must have taken it, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember having seen a camera that day. Just lots of protestors. Of course, they wouldn’t want to make themselves known. I read my weight height and age like it was a statistic out of a playbook. They had my non-existent occupation and stated that I ‘was a runaway who fled her hometown after attacking and nearly killing a local boy’.

I felt the tears well up in my eyes as I threw the book against the nearest tree. Logan was sitting beside me then straddling the bench. He ran one hand over my back and the other over my right thigh. I interlaced my fingers against the need to hit something and leaned over onto his chest. His warmth seeped into my suddenly cold frame and I gritted my teeth against the sobs.

“Listen, Baby. That is nothing, its shit.” He said, pointing to the book on the ground. “We won’t have to worry about it. Look at me, no one is gonna mess with you with me around, ok? You gotta believe me Marie; nothing is gonna happen to you. That thing, it said you were in Westchester. We’re not there. You’ll be fine. We’ll just stay away from Chuckie and the kiddies, alright? No one’ll mess with you.”

I sighed when he was done. There was no getting around it. It’s not like the streaks in my hair didn’t proclaim me as different anyway. “Okay Logan, but where will we go?”

“I’ve got that cabin I told you about once. It’s a big one room and it’s perfect for us. We can turn around and head up there. It’s just now the beginning of fall. We’ve got plenty of time. We’re not far from Grande Cache now. We’ll stop there, get a trailer, and the supplies we’ll need, and we’ll head out to the cabin.”

My arms started tingling again, and I rubbed my freezing hands together before pulling on my gloves. It was terrifying to wonder about the cure wearing off. My mind was a haze while I finished my sandwich and a bottle of water. We were in the car and driving north when Logan said we’d reach Grande Cache in two hours. He said after that it was 45 minutes to his turnoff, and then the cabin was another 30 minutes rough terrain. He had lots of land, and we could hunt, and he’d cut firewood, and I could cook, and it was furnished already.

Mostly I wasn’t worried, until I could smell the worry rolling off of him.