I hadn’t realized how big impact taking the cure had been. I got tangible proof from that now, while watching Marie interact with other students. She had fallen back to wearing baggy, covering clothing, and she was flat out avoiding other people. Before they had sought her company, but now when her skin was again lethal, they had quite an understandable reaction. They shunned her. Gap between Marie and them couldn’t have been bigger if they were residing opposite sides of Grand Canyon. Of course some amount of interaction was necessary. Ororo had ordered her to help me out during combat classes. Now that her mutation was active again, we really couldn’t afford to keep her in a bench. She had to play.
“What do we do now?” That was Kitty. Well, what do you do in a situation like this? This was supposed to be a basic scenario. Nothing life threatening, just some dodging and stuff. Right. That blast came out of nowhere, so fast that I simply couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. My eyes will grow back eventually, but right now I was blind as a bat. And they were gathered around me. Every fucking single one of them.
“You’re all dead. Class dismissed.” I ended the scenario. Last shot from the lasers hissed past me, scorching a shallow path to my cheek. I heard a surprised gasp from behind me. Kitty. Fuck.
“You all right?”
“Yes! I phased just in time!” Just in time, for that she was right. I could smell burnt leather.
“How bad were you hit?” Shit. Shit.
“She’s all right, Logan. Come on, everybody. Class is over.” Marie. Hand under my elbow. She was steering me out.
“I don’t know if I can do this for real.” My vision was getting better already. I could see outlines of her face. It was blurred image, little like looking a negative.
“What makes you think that?” She had been one of my best students. Never afraid. What ever I had thrown against her group, she had taken it and pushed through. Now a scenario designed simply for an easy warm-up exercise made her shiver like a leaf in the wind.
“I don’t have the stomach to clean up the mess afterward, for starters,” she said, pushing a wad of cotton and a bottle of antiseptic to my hands. It stung, but had to get rid of the blood and unmentionable bits and pieces on my face.
“You have been doing just fine up until now. Has something happened?” I asked, wiping my eyes.
“It could have easily been me. I was right behind you when you got hit. I don’t have enforced skeleton.” Shit.
“It could have been you.” No use to lie. Had I moved an inch right then, it would have been her.
“But for that you got me.” No use to lie about that either. I had done it twice. Borrowed my mutation. Would do it again if she needed it.
“I can’t keep relying you, Logan. I can’t run to papa every time I got an owie,” she said and left.
Papa? Owie? Can’t keep relying me? How about getting back to that friends stage? Friends do stuff for each other, right? She helped me to accept what happened with Jean. Helped me to get over it. Long nights in the kitchen, just listening her rambling made me almost forget nothing bad had ever happened. Maybe she got as much out of it as I did, maybe she didn’t. But I learned one thing. Everybody needs a friend every now and then. For small and little bigger reasons. Why did she keep pushing me off?
It wasn’t Wednesday, but I found her from the kitchen when I went to get a little late night snack. She had found my stash, and was finishing her third beer when I walked in.
“We have combat first thing tomorrow. You better be sober for that.” I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her in DR with hangover. I took the bottle from her and finished it. She snorted, stood up little unsteadily and walked out to the patio. Made myself a sandwich and followed her. I had known she was smoking. Had known from the day she started it. Never said a word. Wasn’t my place. Now it started to feel she was doing this just to get on my nerves. Taking long drags from the cigarette and blowing the smoke to my direction.
“What the fuck is going on? Have I done something to piss you off?” Had to be something. She couldn’t be angry at me about confessing how much those Wednesdays meant for me.
“You haven’t done a thing,” she practically growled. Okay. So why was she preparing to neuter me? Suddenly I didn’t want that sandwich anymore. I fetched a beer instead and lit a cigar. Checked my pockets. Keys to Scott’s bike were there. It still was Scott’s bike to me.
“You really haven’t done a thing, and that pisses me off. How about an apology? It would be a good start.” Apology? This was about my little slip up after all.
“Can’t do that. Because I’m not sorry. I’m glad that things turned out they way they did. I didn’t want you to move out.” She narrowed her eyes, but there was no anger in her posture. Just curiosity. She leaned back in her chair and raked her gaze over me. I mimicked her, and just for a moment we sat there, staring at each other in the eyes. Just for a moment, ten seconds at tops, but to me it felt like eternity. I wanted to look away, but fuck if I gave up in front of her. Never. We broke our little standoff like it started, simultaneously.
“You didn’t want me to move out. You needed those Wednesdays. You. What about me? What about what I need?” She asked.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you need.” Because if she needed the moon, I would get it for her. Not once, never, had she asked a thing. I’m not the kind of guy who keeps giving prezzies just because it’s polite.
“I want to live like normal people. I want to hug. I want to shake hands. I want to kiss. I want to make love. I want to get rid of this stupid, fucked up skin of mine. Can you do that?” For that I didn’t have an answer.
“That’s what I thought. You can’t. But there is one thing you could do…” Anything.
“Assign me to another team. I can’t work under your command.” Fuck. Not going to happen.
“No. How am I supposed to look after you if…”
“Fuck you, Wolverine! How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate and do my best during missions, when every time you get hurt all I want to do is to curl up and hide?” She hissed.
“You have to get rid of that instinct. It’s probably something you picked up from me at the Statue…” And again she didn’t let me finish. She huffed and stood up, flinging her cigarette to the night.
“Residual my ass…” She muttered and marched in. After a few minutes I could hear engine roaring. Her bike. Residual? Hell yeah. Disturbing? No. She would get over it eventually. I fiddled with the keys to Scott’s bike. To go or not to go?
“Fuck. This is going to be a long night…” Better follow her and see that she doesn’t break her neck. I taught her to drive, and I’m not the safest possible driver around here.
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