Chapter 8 Working With What I Got
I disappeared to the bar not far from the school. I finished my cigar sitting on the bike before walking in. Rogue mentioned Scott, I still think of the bike as his. I've haven't let a scratch go, or cleaned it up without thinking about what he would think if I didn't. I hope for his own sake he died without pain. I used to sit on it in the garage, waiting for him to burst through the door screaming at me about returning it empty. But he never came.
Anger was burning through me, smoldering, waiting for another reason to lose control. Whiskey wasn't doing much.. I about emptied the bottle on my own. The bar tender was hesitant to let me walk away, but then let me go after I cracked the shot glass in one hand. I didn't know what to do next. The animal said to run, leave it all behind. The last four years have only made me feel hurt, anger and under all that, shame for wanting to make her mine. I don't have to put up with any of this crap, and they all dish it out. I want to wash my hands of them. I have found nothing about my past as the professor promised years ago, guilting me into staying, getting attached. I am not a hero to anyone. I am not meant for this.
But she is, so I can't walk away anymore.
It was late when I got back. The house was quiet. Some rooms were still lit, letting me know a few of them were waiting for me. I had to hunt for the professor first. He's been wondering just as much as I, where she is, and what she was really up to.
His office door was open. He was focused, on what I don't know, but I had interrupted his thoughts.
"What did she tell you?" No hesitation, no salutation, just pure facts, not meeting my gaze.
"She said she was happy, on her own."
"Did you believe her?" Stern, forced.
"She was acting like a screwed up teenager. Hell, I would have smacked her through the phone if I could."
"I have gathered information about her whereabouts, and it will not be easy to hear. I did use Cerebro to locate her-"
"Whatever trouble she is in could have been avoided months ago, am I right?" This is the crap that really pissed me off about him.
"Let me explain. Rogue is traveling with Mystique. Their current location experienced a bank robbery, by two men, one resembling Pyro. If both of their mutations have returned, and Rogue had learned to control her mutation, this pair could have already committed many dangerous crimes. I can connect at least four other situations that could be traced to them. Her earlier contact with us has led me to believe they are motivated to do some good for the mutant cause, as conflicted as that may seem."
Who has she become? She could have been hurt or killed. She could have killed others. She could have undone all the good that we have accomplished, let loose the train wreck that an all-out human vs. mutant war could become.
"I know. I was shocked myself when I put it all together."
I am just as lost as she is. Where is all this lashing out coming from?
"When I was able to locate her, I felt intense sorrow, isolation." He was stammering for words. I felt his anguish, his feelings of loss. He wasn't holding back the barriers surrounding his inner feeling. "I felt her inner struggle, she is on a path of the destruction of herself, despite all the others in her mind. I don't think she wants to put up the fight anymore, keeping them all at bay. She needs to come home."
"Where do I start?"
We saw eye to eye, for once. As many times as we disagreed before, this was mutual.
"They have settled in an suburban area, near a large depository. I have a suspicion I am not the only one that has been able to make a connection. They may be in great danger."
"Why can't we take the Blackbird, grab her and fly out of there?"
"I do not believe that would help Rogue. That may make her feel like a hostage. I am also not sure what kind of arrangement she has with Mystique."
"So I am going alone." It's easier that way. I can watch her, assess the situation.
"Take a car. She won't be expecting that. We will be in contact if you need anything."
"This shouldn't be too hard-"
"Don't underestimate her power, Logan. You cannot assume she won't put up a fight. I am not sharing this information with anyone else, unless I have to."
The anticipation was beyond an adrenalin rush. I packed a bag, not sure what I would actually need. This trip felt different. It was asking me to be more than just a protector, more than the one that always runs in first. It was all or nothing.
I knew she had the animal, the feral side, in her mind, and that first boy, the one that made her. I was never sure about Eric Lensher, Pyro, maybe even Bobby. How were they there? Did they argue? Were they in her sleep? Was it a constant struggle? Did they fade when she got the cure?
I didn't think of any of this, how she would brush herself off, and move on like nothing happened. I had to think she was playing a part for me too, covering the rest of her, that no one saw. I thought she knew she didn't have to with me, but then where was I? Focused on what I lost, what I witnessed, all the reasons why I don't get attached.
I left in the middle of the night, no questions, no expectations.
I drove through the dark, moonless night, my night vision allowing me to adjust. The warmth was starting to hit me, even though I was only a few hours south. The phone was a dead end. She must have dumped it, afraid of having someone else know where she might be. But her point of last contact was a ten-hour drive, so I headed in that direction. I really hated driving sports cars. I couldn't get a sense of where I was in my surroundings, so close to the road, so detached for everything. I hated the way the engine chirped, not roared like the bike. It fish-tailed at every turn, having all the power driven from the back. This was not going to last long, I kept telling myself.
With all the information from the professor, I narrowed down the options of where she might be heading. I knew Chuck would call, when he found her again, giving me a tighter location. I constantly reminded myself that my goal was not to be angry with what she was doing or had done, but to convince her to come home. At least that's what I thought I needed to do.
I stopped for dinner and a beer in a truck stop not far out of what felt like an endless stretch of suburbia. Small town after small town, signs passing to city after city. I had to get off the major roads anyway; they were getting clogged with traffic. I was the only one in the restaurant, and my waitress was way too happy to help. I could smell a bit of arousal through grease and coffee. I kept my eyes on my plate the whole time. Ten years ago, maybe, but not now.
I was heading out the door when I saw my own reflection in the glass. I almost didn't recognize the image shooting back. A scorn permanently etched across my forehead, the need to shave, dark circles settling under my eyes. Sleeping was not on my to-do list yet. I needed to stay secure with what I was doing. I couldn't put words to that feeling, the idea of Marie dying, the hollowness of her not being anywhere. I was propelled by something so great, so intangible, but I want to feel more of it. For once, I want to be selfish. She doesn't deserve this, what I am. I am meant to destroy, and most people end up dead around me. For now, I need to lie to myself. This is for her, and to make her safe. The animal will believe that.
I felt my pocket vibrate, the rattle going straight through to my bones.
"What do you have?" I really hoped he was going to give me a decent location.
"I have found her at a hotel, as herself for the moment. Mystique is with her."
I knew each one of them before entering any room. Marie may think she can slip by me, but she should know better.
"Keep me informed of any situations that arise. I have a suspicion they are being set up. The damage could be costly."
"I'll call you when I have her, Chuck."
If they are being bated, if someone is trying to make an example of them, it will only add fuel to the fire for Mutant Registration. Rogue and Mystique will become poster children for everything bad those people think that we are. The government takes people dead or alive. I can't let them get to her first.
I pulled up at sunset. The lights glowed, the brass shined. This was a departure from what I was expecting from her. I had no choice but to turn into the valet, but those teenage boys were way too impressed with Cyke's car, so I pulled it close to the building, parked it, and walked away faster than they could keep up.
"Sir, sir, will you be staying..."
"No." Not even turning into their direction.
"The bar then..."
I made it through the revolving doors without them. The lobby was busy, that was in my favor. Headed straight for the elevator, I could detect her, strongly. She had to have been here not long ago. Luck was on my side, a bell hop was in the elevator with me.
"You haven't seen a girl with dark hair, with a white streak?"
His eyes brightened up. He shifted his weight and swallowed hard. He knew her, and he had bad thoughts about her. He also knew where she was.
"Top floor," and he glanced my way, letting out a slight hiss. His eyes traveled, sizing me up. He rushed out the second the doors parted, his floor or not, leaving a trail of fear. I was alone, adrenalin picking up, running through my whole body, I need to reel it in. I wasn't sure about what I was going to find. Would she be angry? Would she be the slightest bit happy to see me?
I could feel the sweat starting to drip down my back, as the elevator stopped and opened. I could smell Marie as thick as ever. The animal started to creep in, trying to take over. I knew which door was hers, and the lock was no match for a claw. I paused, noting that the door was open a crack and I hesitated. I pushed it slowly with one hand, holding my breath.
The sun was setting and cast a red glow over the whole room. I was blinded at first, trying to find her silhouette in the light. But my eyes adjusted, and found nothing, just scrambled sheets and spent mini bar bottles. No bags, no clothes, just the intoxicating smell of her. The animal was enraged, wanting to claim her, and fury burning through me. I had missed her, by minutes or hours, but I still missed her. I wanted to tear through everything in the room, pop my claws and leave nothing untouched. Drag them across the wall, like my signature, a tell tale mark of my presence. I wanted to scream, so wherever she was she could hear me. She brought out the anger I bury deep, the feeling of losing control, rage. Disappointment wrapped all of it. She was never supposed to let me down. What's she forcing me to do now? God only knows what everyone else sees, chasing her half way across the country, Marie running from the shadow I left for her. Would I be doing the same for anyone else? I couldn't honestly say I would have.
I ran down the stairs, all thirteen floors, using the energy to spend my anger. Jumped in the car and peeled out, letting the tires squeal to the delight of the valet boys. I needed to do this on my own, no calls to the professor, no short cuts, allowing my senses and the animal to hunt like it wants to. The reasons, anger and answers will all come later.
I drove on, knowing what was going to happen. Seeing the city laid out in the distance, I knew I had to center myself, tune my senses to everything around me, drop all distractions. I had to separate speculation from facts, stop trying to figure out what motivated what she was doing. I had to stop thinking about the girl I kicked to the side of the road, the girl I felt guilty for after driving away, the girl I stopped the truck for. I can't make reasons or excuses for what I am doing. This isn't for me, this isn't to claim her. I had to save her from a life of regret. We may not all be perfect beings, but the rest of them live for hope of a better life, it has possibilities. Regret only preserves the past, things that are undoable, hopeless to change, and I have enough of that for both of us.
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