I never would have seen him if it hadn't been for the rain. Cold rain - the kind that wakes you up when you've fallen asleep in a graveyard, the kind that makes you need to pee.
He certainly was a sight. Made me forget the nature call. Almost. I think he noticed me because I was one more statue than usual standing graveside in the twilight. He couldn't have heard me peeing, not with all that ice water pouring down from the clouds. I zipped as he approached and studied his face, the one behind the smeared makeup. Something about him seemed familiar. Then it hit me, despite the deluge: the scent of sorrow so thick it made the downpour more like a mist.
"Evening."
"Evenin'," I answered.
A crow landed on a nearby headstone. Unusual in that most birds would have tucked in tight from the weather. He spotted the bottle of whiskey, unopened, near her grave and gave out a rattling caw. The guy looked at the bottle, too, and at the grave it graced.
"Visiting?"
"Yeah," I admitted after a hard swallow. "You?"
"Coming home."
It must have shown on my face, my frown. I didn't want to have to save yet another idiot from himself tonight. The man who tried to rob the liquor store was still recovering from the 'lecture' I gave him.
He smiled, a strange picture since his face was painted like some kind of mask, with a thin black smile and black tears standing out against a white background.
"Not what you think," he said kindly.
"Never is."
"My girl's over here," he offered, pointing. "I'm going home to her."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess she's my home. I just…can't join her."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You will. In time."
"Never."
There was silence as he considered that, and I silently cursed myself for having a lonely tongue. Now he'd think I needed saving.
"Heaven and Hell, they're closer than you think."
"Yeah, but you have to die to get to either one," I said bitterly.
"Dying's pretty easy. Staying dead's another thing."
We locked eyes then, him and me. More passed between us than a glance, and I had an image pressed in my head of a man clawing himself out of a grave to avenge something so wrong it wouldn't let his soul rest in peace. A love, a life, torn to pieces by hatred and avenged by a man who would never let her memory go – it was beyond heartache. In a flash I knew everything about him, and yet lost everything just as quickly when it all faded like a fog.
The crow made another harsh caw and flew to the nearest tree.
"I see. And I thought I had it bad," he said.
A sudden thought occurred to me. Maybe he had learned just as much about me right then. And her. "Could you tell her something?"
"I'm sure she already knows," he gently said. "You hear things, when you're beyond."
I sighed and sat in the mud. "Then I'll tell her myself," I said, reaching for the bottle. I deliberately turned my back on the grave he was heading for. I didn't want to see someone go somewhere I desperately wanted to go myself.
I could have sworn he said, "You'll see her again, someday," but it could have been the rain. I wouldn't have believed him anyway.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
Found another buried L/M ficlet. Someone challenged me years ago to have Logan meet Eric Draven (the Crow). Unfortunately, it was at a time when I was wondering what would happen to Logan if Marie ever died. Told from Logan's point of view. Not related to the Professional series. 1/2008