Your six blade knife can do anything for you
Anything you want it to
One blade for breaking my heart
One blade for tearing me apart
Your six blade knife-do anything for you
You can take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
When you come up from behind and lay it down cold on my skin
Took a stone from my soul when I was lame
Just so you could make me tame
You take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
Id like to be free of it now - I don’t want it no more
Id like to be free of it now - you know I don’t want it no more
Everybody got a knife it can be just what they want it to be
A needle a wife or something that you just cant see
You know it keeps you strong
Yes and it’ll do me wrong
Your six blade knife - do anything for you
He listened the song and swallowed bitter taste it brought in his mouth. Words hit too close to home. He could feel burn of adamantium coated claws inside of his hands. They lay there, now dormant. Only few days ago those claws had taken her life. In the end she had thanked him for it, but it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t erase memory of her eyes. It didn’t soothe horrible twisting feeling inside of him. Tears he refused to shed sting his eyes. He couldn’t. She had been Scott’s wife. She was dead. Scott was dead. Professor was dead. He was dead. How the fuck you were supposed to go on and run a fucking school when you were dead? And why the fuck he should even try?
Silent footsteps interrupted his pity party for one. He sat up rubbing his face.
“I thought you might be here.” He patted vacant spot on the stone bench beside him. Marie sat there.
“Ororo was looking for you earlier. Something about starting math classes again next week.”
“Yeah. I saw her on my way here.” He hated how weak his voice sounded.
“She was going to hire some new teachers.”
“She can do that. She has to. They are… Professor, Summers and Jean are… They are indisposed.” He didn’t know how long he could keep this up. Keep pretending. Then she laid one bare hand on his shoulder, making him look at her. Really look at her. And he knew it was impossible.
“She was happy! She was fucking smiling when I stabbed her!” Logan held her up from the ground, dangling her from the lapels of her jacket. She didn’t make a move to get free.
“How the fuck she could do it to me? Huh? Why?” She didn’t even blink, just stared at him straight to his face. Logan seemed to get a hold of himself and lowered her carefully back to the ground, letting her loose. He just stood there, head hung low, looking completely lost.
“She chose you, because she knew you would be strong enough to end it.”
“She made a poor assessment of character, then. I can’t make it stop. I keep seeing her face. I can still taste her lips. I can smell her blood. I can feel her heart beat in my hands.”
Last couple of days he had been avoiding people completely, staying in his room, coming out only during nights to raid the fridge. He was on his way to kitchen when he got caught.
Marie stood in the doorway, holding a carton of ice cream. Too late to turn back, she had seen him already.
“What are you doing up this late?” He asked instead, strolling past her, hoping against hope she would have enough sense to leave. Instead she took his less friendly question as an invitation to a longer conversation, and walked in to the kitchen after him, plunking the ice cream to counter and hopping to sit next to it.
“Got hungry. What’s your excuse?” She asked, licking vanilla from her spoon. He didn’t answer, but started pulling out various leftovers, packed to plastic containers, from the fridge.
“Wow! You seriously need some help! Salad and casserole are no comfort food!” Marie exclaimed.
“Who said I was after comfort? I need to eat,” he growled and threw one of the containers to microwave oven. Suddenly she was behind him, hands wrapped around his waist, whole body pressed against his.
“Everybody needs some comfort from time to time,” she whispered and nuzzled her face to his back. And he couldn’t hold back anymore.
He leaned against the counter, tears streaming on his face. Marble surface was cold under his palms. Marie behind him was a warm presence, almost like a cuddly blanket wrapped around him. Memory of her, Jean, was burning inside of him brightly. She was smiling, and suddenly he felt everything would be okay.
“Thanks…” His voice was hoarse, and he tried to wipe his face, fumbling awkwardly with warm container. For some reason lid refused to budge. She took it from him, opened it and poured contents to the plate in front of him. Muscle started to tick next to his eye, and slight smile tried to worm it’s way to his face. Soon they were both laughing out loud.
“I don’t think that coleslaw got any better even when you heated it!”
“All right. I give up. What should I eat, then?” Logan asked, after regaining his composure.
“Well, there’s ice cream, hamburgers, ice cream, chips, ice cream, cakes and cookies, and of course my personal favorite: Ice cream!” She held up a spoon for him, and he took the offered cold treat to his mouth.
“It’s cold.”
“Well, duh! Ice cream. It’s supposed to be cold!” She huffed and dug up another spoonful, feeding it to him.
“And cold is supposed to make me feel better?” Logan asked after swallowing the icy lump.
“I don’t think it’s the coldness. It’s the dough and chocolate.”
“Huh?”
“Usually I eat ice cream with cookie dough and chocolate chips, but we’re all out of it. Hence vanilla. Not quite the same, but…” She shrugged and took a spoonful.
“Go and get dressed,” he suddenly said, taking the spoon and ice cream from her.
“Why?” He was closing the lid of the ice cream carton.
“We’re going to get some real comfort. Wear something warm.”
“I should have guessed…” She sighed.
“What?” He asked. They had taken Scott’s bike. He had driven until sun was rising, and then pulled to the side of the road. They were sitting side by side on a large rock, faces turned towards the rising sun. Miles between them and nearest settlement.
“You’re not ice cream type. This is more you.”
“Nope. Beer is my ice cream. But I seriously doubt any of the places I usually haunt would have taken you in. This was something we both could do.” Suddenly she shivered.
“Cold?” He asked, shrugging open his jacket and pulling her against his side.
“Kind of. It still hurts. What happened with Bobby.”
“It’ll get better,” he said, rubbing her arm reassuringly.
“How can you be so sure?” She asked, knowing he was talking about his own hurt as much as he was talking about hers.
“It has to. I can’t keep going like this. It’s like half of me is missing.” She leaned her head against his side. She started to realize how big impact their meeting with the X-Men and Charles Xavier had made in his life. They had become his family. And then suddenly that family had been torn away from him.
“I know it’s not much, but you still have me,” she whispered. His grip from around her tightened almost painfully.
“It’s more than enough. And you have me, kid. Remember that.”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
This was supposed to be one-piece, songfic, but then Logan started talking, and I had no choice but to listen and type it down. Songlyrics belong to Dire Straits, song's called "Six Blade Knife".