Chapter 12: Epilogue
Friday, May 22nd, 2043, Almost thirteen years later
“Just fucking do it!” she shouted into the comm, before quickly ducking a round of gunfire. She dodged to the left, before jamming her claws up into the latest fanatic who had tried to come at her. In her ear, Rictor’s voice over the comm, shouting at her.
“The mission’s been fucking compromised! I can’t… Laura! We gotta get back to the helicopter or everyone’s gonna die but you!”
“Rictor, si no ponemos abajo algunos de estes cabrones ahora, estamos completamente jodidos! Entiendes?”
“LAURA. IT’S OVER. Cut the shit and let’s get out of here!”
“One…more….second!” she shouted into the comm before driving her leather boot into the throat of the bastard with the machine gun. If this mission was going to be a complete failure, she was at least going to end up with a higher body count. Whipping her boot out from the neck of her latest victim, a fresh splatter of blood flew across the room, showering everything in red. Two on her right, another coming from her left. Laura turned, snarling, just as she felt the cold, excruciating slide of a drop point blade in her stomach. She growled loudly in pain before embedding her claws into the sorry fucker’s heart, before ripping the knife out of her side...
Laura woke with a start and a hoarse yell, her body seething. She was covered in sweat in the darkened bedroom, trying to fully regain consciousness. She whipped her head around, breathing heavily, before she noticed the telltale spatter of red on the sheets. Mierda. She retracted the adamantium from her hands and feet instantly before she put a shaky, bloodied hand to wipe her unruly hair from her forehead. A tear in the bedding, coils from the mattress now exposed. Beside her, the copy of Austen’s Pride and Prejudice she had fallen asleep with was now in shreds. Fuck.
She peeled the sheets off of her and moved her legs to the side of the bed before standing, carefully to walk across the hard wooden floor of her apartment bedroom, trying not to get blood on anything else. Slowly, she made her way over to the bathroom, snagging a washcloth off the stack she kept on the counter, wetting it before wiping the blood off her hands and feet. Sighing, she tossed it in the sink, before staring into the mirror tiredly.
A woman in her mid-twenties with long black hair stared back, black tank top running over her thin frame, her father’s dog tags still slung around her neck.
She blinked, tracing her fingers under her eyes, along the too-pale skin of her face. Always with the fucking pesadillas. She checked the time from the watch still strapped to her wrist. Hell. Two in the morning. The teleporter wouldn’t be here to take her to Hay River until seven. Laura sighed, padding back through the bedroom and into the kitchen of the small apartment, past framed pictures of Marie and Kay and Cole and Rictor and Dani, past a degree from McGill University, to where the refrigerator was. Laura opened it with an exasperated sigh. A couple of leftover boxes of Chinese that with one sniff Laura had known had gone bad and needed to be thrown out. A half-empty bottle of ketchup. A little orange juice. A couple of longnecks. Practically empty. It was always empty. Shit. Biting her lip, she closed the fridge and glanced over at the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter. Snagging a spare glass, she indulged, blindly hoping it would help her get back to sleep, knowing that it probably wouldn’t.
The nightmare had been spot on, almost an exact replica of last week’s mission. The one that had failed miserably. A bad lead on top of some sloppy prep work. Laura wasn’t in the habit of going ahead with a mission without rock-solid tactical strategy, but thing had developed quickly, and the team had made the joint decision that the risk was worth it, even if the opportunity to strike had been in a terribly narrow time frame. And of course, of course, it had been a set-up. The lead had been rotten, and the fringe human rights group they had been targeting had easily trapped the small band of mutants now parading around as the freshly reestablished X-Men. They had come under heavy gunfire, only had narrowly escaped with their lives, and now Rictor was sporting a shallow bullet wound in his shoulder and Dani a broken arm because of it. It had been all Laura’s fault. She could practically hear her father’s voice in her head, the sharp judgement of I told you so and sloppy tactics always lead to disaster, kid. Laura frowned deeply, drinking again.
They had decided a break was necessary. A little time off, and not only because Dani would be in a cast for six weeks and Rictor was at home in Ontario healing. They needed to reassess what they were doing, plan more properly. And she needed to go home. As busy as she had been, Laura hadn’t seen Marie in a few months, and now felt guilty about it. A couple of years ago she would have made it a point to visit Marie weekly, but since the move to New York, it had been less often. Laura toyed with the wine glass in her hands, considering. Ever since Alpha Flight had acquired the deed to abandoned X-Mansion, Laura had been insisting on scrounging up the money to have at least part of the mansion renovated so Marie could move to New York and be closer to Laura. Marie had flat-out refused to do so on several occasions, however.
Too many memories, was all that she would say. Laura sighed. Marie certainly had a point there. She now had the entirety of Logan’s memories along with her own inside her mind, and while she certainly had a hold of everything now, neither Marie or her father’s constant presence inside Marie’s head had shown no interest in moving anywhere. They seemed perfectly content to stay in Hay River, at the edge of the earth, indefinitely.
Initially, Laura hadn’t wanted to leave Canada either, but the United States was a mess, and she felt some sort of strange...allegiance to Charles. To fix things, to pay it forward, to restore some of his former ideologies, see out some of his dream. So far, it wasn’t going well. All she had was an abandoned, dilapidated X-Mansion now discreetly in her name, a non-functioning Blackbird and a bunch of incredibly outdated technology in the basement of the place. That and three uniform-less X-Men. If they could even call themselves that. Laura frowned again, staring at her watch. 2:15am. So in Hay River...it was only a little past midnight...Laura bit her lip, considering, before she was helplessly murmuring the words “Call Cole” to the apartment’s computer system.
“Dialing” it said back, and after a few moments, Cole’s tired voice filled the room.
“H’lo?” he asked. Shit, he’d been sleeping. Laura closed her eyes softly in regret.
“Hey,” Laura said, still cradling her glass of wine and resigning herself to plop down on the pull out couch in the living room.
“Laura? You still up?” he asked groggily. Laura frowned again.
“Uhh yeah…headed your way in the morning. Or I guess it sorta is the morning already...so later today. Sorry to wake you. I thought you might still be up. Shit , did I wake Sandra too?” Laura asked.
“Uh, no. She was already awake.”
Cole now worked as an indigenous rights lawyer and lived in Yellowknife with his wife Sandra, just a few hours’ drive from his mother Jody, who still resided in Hay River. Jody was getting older, but his brother Danny and his partner lived closer, which Cole was grateful for. Danny had also been in the habit of checking in on Marie every so often, something now Laura was grateful for, too. Laura breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t been too disruptive to Cole’s night and took another sip of the dry red wine.
“That baby kicking too much?” she asked through a small smile.
“Heh. Always. He’s constantly waking her up,” Cole said. Laura frowned slightly, before closing utting to the chase.
“How is Marie?” Laura asked.
“We went down last week. She’s good. She and mom played chess,” Cole’s voice said. Laura snorted a this a bit, and smiled through another sip of wine.
“Your mom plays chess ?” Laura asked incredulously, tucking her feet up underneath her on the couch as she did so.
“Marie conned her into it somehow,” Cole said through a tired laugh. There was a lull in the conversation now, and Laura considered letting him go. A part of her didn’t want to though. The truth was she had been more than a bit lonely since the “break” had started a few days ago, and she was feeling purposeless and anxiety-ridden. Lost in thoughts about the mission once more, Laura barely caught Cole’s next question.
“So how’s…. what’s her name?” Cole asked carefully. Laura sighed as she drank deeply from her glass.
“Uh, didn’t work out,” Laura said, glancing to the broken lamp in the corner, random pieces of ceramic still scattered across the floor that Laura hadn’t had the gall to sweep up quite yet. Paige had thrown a book at Laura and missed. The lamp had been collateral.
“Damn. Sorry Laura,” Cole said quietly, and Laura tried not to squirm in discomfort at the sympathy in his voice.
“Not your fault,” she muttered, hoping for a change in subject.
“So…you’ll be there in the morning?” Cole asked.
“Yeah. Still planning on lunch Saturday with the crew at Marie’s?”
“Heck yeah. Haven’t see you in…jesus... a few months right?” Laura’s eyes flew to the darkened windows and the lights of New York City that lay beyond them.
“Right,” Laura said quietly. A few moments of silence passed between them before Cole spoke again.
“Laura...are you ok?”
Laura paused, staring down at her empty wine glass and then back at the broken pieces of lamp. The blood spatters here and there on the floor leftover from her knuckles and feet. The punching bag she used for workouts in the morning hanging from the ceiling, practically in the kitchen. The stacks of books in the corners, unorganized but well-read. The empty refrigerator. The empty bed.
“Sí. Yeah, of course, Cole. Look, I don’t mean to keep you. I’ll see you in a couple of days. Or I guess if it’s already Friday--technically--I guess tomorrow,” Laura said.
“Don’t fuck with my head like that. Just say ‘later’,” Cole joked, and at that Laura truly laughed.
“Alright then. Later.”
--
The lakehouse’s siding needed pressure washing. It was the first thing she noticed after materializing in Hay River, the teleporter already gone. Laura’s black boots hit the familiar gravel of the driveway, and her eyes immediately and instinctively flew over the house, quickly inspecting it from the outside. Alpha Flight typically saw to the lake house’s routine maintenance, although, considering the initial restoration had been completed by Logan, it rarely required much upkeep. Laura’s eyes settled on the sturdy deck, the wooden steps and slats her father had installed with precision and care over a decade ago still in amazing condition, and she smiled slightly. Still though, Laura made a mental note to request the pressure washing to JP. As she slowly walked up the drive, Laura felt her nervous energy begin to dissipate. Laura smiled as she spotted Marie’s self-driving Volvo in the driveway, air freshener visible through the window. Marie had never gotten used to that part of Logan’s acquired mutation and was always diffusing essential oils and lighting candles, anything to ease up the onslaught of other scents. As Laura’s boot hit the first white step, she smiled once more, picking up the pace and shedding her black leather jacket in the warm sun, happy to see that spring had finally settled into the sleepy town Laura often still considered home.
She knew Marie was already anticipating her visit. Laura had intended to stay in town for a few days at least, and beyond that the older woman would have likely already heard her, but Laura still knocked. As her knuckles rapped on the white wooden door, she felt the last of her anxiety about seeing them both leave her. Then, the door was already unlocking, swinging open, and a woman who hadn’t changed in physical appearance one tiny bit in the last thirteen years looked back at her, offering Laura a wide grin. Laura couldn’t help but smile in return as she stuttered a, “Hi Marie,” and her adoptive mother collected her into a close hug through a relieved and grateful laugh.
“That was too long, Laura,” she muttered, as she stroke the back of her daughter’s hair. “You hear me? Too fucking long. ”
“I know,” Laura murmured, feeling the sharp pang of guilt as Marie released her only slightly to grasp Laura by her two thin arms and surveying her properly.
“Let me look at you,” Marie said, before slightly frowning, shaking her head with a sharp tsk. “You’re too skinny, hija. Ve si come lo suficiente, aunque sea solo por mi propia cordura, por favor.”
Laura sighed. She had known there would have likely been a comment about that, and she muttered a, “ Ah, vaya. No me molestes. Estuve ocupado.”
Marie frowned slightly but ushered Laura inside still, through the living room and into the kitchen. Laura’s eyes quickly flitted around the place, not surprised to find it unchanged from the last time Laura visited. Well, unchanged since the three mutants had moved in fourteen years ago. Same furniture, same dishes, same bedding, all properly maintained and taken care of, down to the chessboard on the coffee table, which seemed like it was in the middle of a game. Marie was already shuffling about the kitchen, while Laura flopped down on a stool next to the kitchen island, smoothly and intuitively falling into the old habits of home.
“So, ocupado, eh? How busy?” Marie said, as she bustled about, and Laura noticed there was already a full pot of coffee and Marie was grabbing two mugs. Some of the tension inside Laura uncoiled a bit more, and she sighed in pleasure at the smell of hazelnut and espresso beans. Laura’s thoughts flew mournfully to her mainly-empty refrigerator, which Paige had always been getting on her about. God, it felt good to be taken care of again.
“I know you don’t want to hear about it,” Laura grumbled, although she offered Marie a small smile as the older mutant slid a mug of steaming coffee her way.
“Oh no, I do. I wanna hear about all of it. Just…how about you take a sip of that coffee first?” Marie said through a grin, walking out of the kitchen into the living room. Laura dutifully followed her to sit in her spot on the sectional.
Laura noticed a few incredibly detailed and beautiful nature sketches of insects and flowers on the coffee table next to the chessboard, and she smiled a little as she picked up a completely accurate depiction of a honeybee.
“These your latest?” Laura asked. Marie blushed a little, rolling her eyes a bit
“Yeah. The shop’s been slow. I got bored,” Marie said, taking a sip of coffee. Laura carefully set the sketch down, before sitting back on the couch.
“Ok. So before we talk shop, how’s Paige?” Marie asked, throwing Laura a careful glance from across the living room. Laura bit her lip, unsure of how much to share, and then realizing there was no point other than to be honest, because Marie had methods of finding out the truth when it came to Laura anyway.
“Uh, Paige is no more,” Laura mumbled into her coffee cup. Marie’s eyebrows raised in mild shock, and she looked off distantly for a moment, before she surprisingly and uncharacteristically chuckled. Laura must have shot her an incredulous stare, because after another moment Marie’s gaze refocused on Laura and she had that guilty look of being caught.
“Sorry, hija. It’s just Logan,” Marie smiled, and before Laura could respond, Marie added, “Your father says that was a long time coming.” At that Laura’s frown deepened, before she took another swallow of coffee. Perhaps it was because of the recent anxiety Laura had been feeling or how miserably she had been failing with revitalizing the X-Men practically single-handedly, but Laura felt oddly susceptible to an age-old jealousy, a familiar feeling of envy that now didn’t quite settle right with her.
“That’s all he said?” Laura asked, through an arched brow. Marie smiled even more so, through a slight tilt of the head.
“Well, plus a few expletives and something about her being crazy.” At this Laura groaned. Her father had never approved of the women Laura dated, and of course Paige was unlikely to be an exception.
“She wasn’t…crazy,” Laura tried to defend herself. The truth was Laura hadn’t let herself think of the breakup, not with all that had happened recently with the job. So what if Laura was good at avoiding the portions of her life that weren’t working? Although recently, that seemed like everything. “Paige just couldn’t handle the X-Men stuff. I was gone all the time.”
Marie only faintly smiled, before adding, “Well I’m sorry, amada. Break ups are always hard.” Laura practically snorted at this, although she was polite enough to abstain from voicing the fact that Marie hadn’t probably gone through a break-up in a very, very long time, and now physically couldn’t with Logan permanently nestled in her mind. Laura seemed to realize the acerbic nature of these thoughts, however, and she frowned out of guilt. More jealousy.
“Well, I’m thinking of just giving up. Maybe I’ll just be alone forever,” Laura said as she set down her mostly-empty coffee cup on the end table, moving to grab a throw pillow and hug it closely to her. Marie laughed a little at this as she watched Laura knowingly from across the couch.
“A little on the dramatic side, considering you’re only twenty four.”
“Twenty five next month,” Laura grumbled.
“‘Bout time you could rent a car,” Marie said through a smirk.
“That you or him talking?” Laura said tersely. Marie said nothing, only smiling, while Laura frowned.
“No one rents cars anymore,” Laura said tiredly. “They drive themselves. Even up here at the end of the earth.”
“Well then, you have your answer. You know he doesn't bother keeping up with that stuff,” Marie said through a wave of her free hand, and then, noticing Laura’s coffee cup was low, Maire moved to stand and take it into the kitchen for a refill. Laura stared ahead for a few moments as Marie did so, until her gaze settled on the partially completed game of chess on the coffee table, reminding her of this morning’s conversation with Cole.
“Cole says you’ve been playing with Jody,” Laura remarked, gesturing to the board, as Marie handed her a fresh cup of coffee and Laura smiled slightly in appreciation.
“Nope. Well, really not me anyway. I’m just trying to get her to unknowingly play Logan. Your father’s sick of playing me.”
Laura snorted, glancing down at the game, before offering, “I’ll play him while I’m here.” Marie sat down once more, throwing a grin at Laura.
“He says you don’t have the patience for chess. You should be better after all this time, kid, but you’re not. His words, not mine.” Laura scoffed momentarily, although she couldn’t help but smile at the nickname Logan used with both of them. Another sip of coffee, as Laura fiddled with the edge of the throw pillow.
“Yeah, well like I said...been a little too busy to brush up on my chess-playing skills,” she mumbled.
Marie stared at her intently, but before she could speak, Laura cut her off. “I know what you’re going to say. What he’d say…about all of this still being a terrible idea,” Laura mumbled.
“I didn’t say anything,” Marie muttered through a shake of her head. “Although he wants a full report on the mission. I’m assuming, since we hadn’t heard from you…it didn’t go well?” Laura’s stomach flipped over, the sharp and tearing memories of last night’s pesadilla still fresh in her mind.
“Bad lead, like he thought,” Laura murmured. Logan had warned Laura via Marie that throwing together a mission in only a couple of days was always a bad idea even if she had had the team’s support, especially when your sources about the authenticity of the tip hadn’t quite checked out yet. But the possibility of targeting a whole human rights’ group at once who were known for their hate crimes against families birthing new mutants again…Laura had jumped at the opportunity to eradicate them. She had been too eager. And she knew Logan knew it.
“Anyone get hurt?” Laura heard Marie ask. Laura sighed, running a tired hand over her face. “Rictor got tagged. Dani broke her arm.”
Marie’s brow furrowed then, and Laura’s guilt tripled in intensity.
“I know,” Laura muttered.
“You should’ve triple checked your sources, like he told you to,” Marie said quietly.
“I know, I know. The rule of three,” Laura was saying, setting down the coffee mug once more, helpless but to glance over to a framed picture of Logan, Laura and Marie. It was from the day they had moved in. Marie had forced them all to take a selfie, and Laura’s and Marie’s tongues were sticking out while Logan had a forced smile on his face. Laura frowned as she stared at the picture, before turning back to look at Marie hopelessly. Marie’s lip turned downward as well, before she suddenly stood, tilting her head to the door.
“How about a walk, hija? The weather’s beautiful.”
---
She doesn’t have her shit together.
Cut her a break. At least she’s trying.
She’s too thin.
I already TOLD her that.
Marie listened to Logan growl inside her head, as she followed Laura on the trail they typically hiked that made its way around a portion of the south side of the lake. Marie hiked this path almost every day now that the weather had grown warmer. She liked it because despite the tall pines, there was a decent view of the lake for most of the walk, and lately the sounds of the lapping water and the call of the returning summer birds had been soothing to her. The smells were always overwhelming, but the sounds…the sounds she loved.
Up ahead, Laura had put her black leather jacket back on and now walked with her hands in her pockets. The image of her daughter made Marie’s heart lurch.The fact was that Marie had been desperate to see Laura. They both had. But Laura had been tied-up, as hard as she was trying to establish the X-Men, all without a Charles Xavier or a Scott Summers or an Ororo Munroe around to help her.
Or Chuck’s money, Logan added smartly.
Alpha Flight had helped where they could. They had deftly acquired the deed to the X-Mansion right before the old home had been scheduled for demolition. Now, all of it, the house, the abandoned labs, even the Blackbird that still sat in the bowels of the basketball court, was all in Laura’s name, whatever that meant. Laura was especially obsessed with getting the Blackbird airborne again, one of her many projects. Marie could only assume the technology, much like that in the rest of the house, was horribly out-of-date. That fact, plus the years of neglect the Blackbird had likely suffered, had made the project remarkably challenging. Laura was still trying to recruit enough people to join the X-Men, and so far she hadn’t run into any aviation specialists particularly skilled in fixing twenty-year-old off-the-government-record technology. Technically, Logan and Marie knew how to fly the plane, but they didn’t know the first thing about repairing it.
All of this shit’s crazy, Logan muttered. She’s got too much going on. Marie inwardly sighed, but didn’t respond. Even with the recent uptick in mutant births since Transigen had been completely disassembled, the X-Men had mostly faded from the public’s mind. Laura had considered this to be a boon, wanting less attention on what she was trying to do, what she was trying to establish, especially considering the influx of new anti-mutant hate groups reminiscent of groups like Friends of Humanity had been cropping up once more. Mo’ mutants, mo’ problems , Laura had bitterly joked a couple of months ago. Inside her mind, Marie could practically feel Logan crossing his arms stubbornly.
She’s in over her head. And she’s too young for most of this shit.
I was only eighteen on my first mission.
Yeah, but you weren’t in charge. And she just biffed that last one. Sloppy and rushed planning. What did I tell you?
Cut her a break, sugar, Marie thought, even as she watched Laura walk up ahead. She’s got a lot going on.
Exactly my point. I’m glad she shook that Paige chick, though. She didn’t understand Laura. Besides, Laura only liked her because she had a nice ass. At this, Marie snorted.
Oh come on. Laura’s not that fickle, Marie began to argue.
Kid. Be realistic. She’s just like me, right down to her taste in women. I didn’t fucking settle down until...well… Logan trailed off.
Until you were 191, Marie smartly pointed out. Inside her mind, Logan’s rich and vibrant laugh.
Heh heh. Yeah. That’s right. Took me long enough.
Marie only quietly chuckled at this, and while no one else might have heard, she noticed Laura had whipped her head around once more, peering at her mother suspiciously.
“What’d he say?” Laura asked through narrow eyes. Marie exhaled, hopping over an exposed tree root as she caught up a bit with her daughter and hiked deeper into the woods.
“Just tottering off about how worried he is about you,” she said. Laura looked a little surprised at that and stopped in the middle of the trail, crossing her arms in an exact imitation of her father.
“And?” Laura asked.
Marie sighed. No use in hiding it. Marie had decided long ago that she would communicate truthfully what Logan was saying in her head to Laura if he wished Laura to hear it, no matter the cost. She owed it to both of them.
You better damn well tell her, Logan said flatly.
“And that you only kept Paige around because of her…physical features,” Marie finished. Laura practically snarled at this comment, opening her mouth to speak, but then shut it promptly, suddenly walking forward once more.
Ya see? Bingo. I’m right, Logan quipped.
Marie only rolled her eyes, although she quietly acknowledged from Laura’s response that he was, in fact, probably correct.
You better believe it, darlin’. Ask her about how funding’s coming along.
“He wants to know about funding, Laura. Did any patrons result after last month’s efforts?” Marie asked, walking more quickly to keep up. At this, Laura turned once more, but didn’t stop walking.
“Yeah… still working on it.” In her mind, Logan was already shaking his head.
This whole thing is a clusterfuck. She shoulda put that literature degree from McGill to better use instead of playing superhero, gettin’ a wild hair to go diggin’ up graves, unearthin’ things that should just stay dead. At this last comment, Marie physically winced, holding her arms closer to her chest. Realizing the full extent of his words, Marie could feel the shower of Logan’s regret in her mind.
Sorry baby, Logan muttered. Wasn’t thinkin’.
--
Laura and Marie had spent the rest of Friday cooking in anticipation of tomorrow’s lunch Marie was hosting for Jody, Cole and his wife, and Laura helped where she could, knowing, of course, that her culinary skills were limited at best. The tone remained light; there wasn’t really any more time to think about anything else, and Laura was grateful for both the distraction and the reprieve. By the time the cooking was over, Laura was exhausted. She felt mildly guilty, she knew Marie was still up doing some baking, but the early morning had finally caught up with Laura and she had retired upstairs, walking blindly into her old room and dropping onto the covers of the twin bed in an exhausted heap.
That next morning, Laura had helped Marie with prep again, so much so that Laura had barely managed to sneak upstairs for a quick shower before the company showed up. She tried to soak it in, the decent water pressure and the soothing water on her skin, but still her mind wouldn’t quiet down, wouldn’t quite settle. She sighed as she stepped out of the shower, drying off and wrapping her long dark hair up in a spare towel. Laura hadn’t brought much with her, and she was ever thankful Marie kept a stock of clothes for Laura here when she came to visit, although the options were definitely less edgy than Laura’s current style. Resigning herself to her choices, Laura settled for a pair of jeans and a hunter green v-neck, along with a pair of wool socks and hiking boots. She dressed quickly in the bathroom, and without any makeup at her disposal, she suddenly felt like a younger, less volatile version of herself. She frowned slightly at the reflection in the mirror, before undoing her hair from its towel and walking around the bedroom, running her fingers through her hair as she went.
It was the first time she had really taken in the room since she had been here, and, as she did so, her frown remained. Just like the rest of the house, little to nothing had changed. The same orange and purple curtains. A fuzzy orange lamp. Posters advertising bands that had lost popularity in the mid-to-late thirties. Everything, the same. It hadn’t ever bothered her before, but now, for reasons she hadn’t quite explored yet, she was feeling increasingly perturbed.
The only thing that was significantly different was that most of the books were absent from the still-present bookshelf, Laura having taken practically all of them to college with her and then to her apartments both in Hay River and in New York. A couple of the “kid books” she had chosen to part with when she had turned eighteen, however, remained, and now Laura couldn’t help but idly thumb through the small stack of them propped up on the third shelf. Harry Potter, A Wrinkle in Tim e, and...Laura froze, eyes settling on the spine of the first in a series of adolescent books she had read years and years ago. A Series of Unfortunate Events. Carefully, with a slightly shaky hand, she plucked its tattered spine out of the stack, turning the book around to look at the front cover. She was greeted by a picture of the tall, gangly villain and the sad faces of the three Baudelaire orphans. Laura’s grip on the book instinctively tightened. This was the first book she had read in Hay River. Kay had given it to her that first day, the day when Laura had asked about the waterwheel on the road sign, and Logan had decided that was a good enough reason as any to stay there, in Hay River. Those first days. Back when it was just him and her.
She and her papá.
She loved Marie more than she could possibly express, but Laura often looked back on those two short months with just Papá as a sort of magical time. In fact, in the past, Laura had often considered those two months the gold standard by which she compared the rest of her life. And, so far, no other experience had been able to surpass it. From the moment she had laid eyes on Logan in the cemetary through the back of Gabriella’s car to everything that followed. Laura’s memory of those months had always been exceptionally clear. Those few precious days with Charles. The horror at the Munson’s farm. The way she had leaned into her papá after she had realized her friends had disappeared from the lookout cabin in Eden and how he’d put his arm around her. And later, in that tiny apartment above Kay’s shop. The movies they’d watch. The desk he bought her. The burgers they shared. The way he’d spend his weekends dutifully working at the lake house, before he had even owned the home. Suddenly, Laura wished she had helped him more. Wished she hadn’t done all that exploring out in the woods like she had on so many occasions. Why hadn’t she spent every moment with him when she had it? Helped him saw wood and hammer nails? Why hadn’t she realized, even though she had already known, that he was truly and really dying?
A hot tear on the cover of the book now. Laura shook her head, cursing her feelings as she wiped her eyes and tossed the book back on the shelf. There was no fucking reason to get so emotional now. He had been dead for years. Or gone. Or body-less. Or whatever the fuck he now was.
All this stupid goddamn X-Men glory. That’s why she was emotional. Laura had been so blinded by her goals once she had made the decision to do something about them that she had been able to see little else. She’d stop coming around town, had dropped off talking to Cole and the rest of her friends. Spent too many nights in the little guardpost that resided on the perimeter of the dilapidated X-Mansion, the only building that had been partially remodeled, crunching numbers and drawing up schematics and trying to will the X-Men back to life. She’d stopped seeing people, stopped seeing everything the same way, or at all. She certainly hadn’t seen Paige, except maybe as a woman Laura could fuck when it all became too much at work. And that was it, wasn’t it? She hadn’t seen Paige as a real person, and that had given the other woman more than enough reason to walk out on Laura. The Logan inside Marie’s mind was right. Paige had been a warm body, and little else.
God damn him. He was always fucking right. Especially when it came to her.
She realized, in that moment, that all of it was getting to her more than she’d let on, the hopelessness of what she was trying to accomplish. And this house. This fucking house. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, coming here. Laura had been trying to seek solace, peace, and if she was being honest, trying to erase a bit of guilt she had been harboring about not seeing Marie enough, but so far, it seemed the lakehouse was intent to haunt her, remind her of all the old wounds that hadn’t quite healed right. As if such a thing was even possible with a mutation like hers.
Laura frowned again, glancing around the room, before she picked up on the rumbling of a car outside. Fuck. They were here. Laura sighed, moving away from the bookshelf and quickly whipping her partially-dried hair up into a high ponytail, before closing the door to the old bedroom firmly behind her.
--
Laura descended the stairs to the view of a beautiful woman nearly eight months pregnant, and the searching eyes of Cole, who’s gaze stayed on Laura as she made her way into the living room. She smiled brightly at them both, moving to offer Cole a giant bear hug, which he happily returned. Laura then turned her gaze toward Sandra, offering her a gentler version of the same hug, minding her protruding stomach, which Sandra laughed at and replied, “Don’t feel like you need to be gentle. He surely isn’t.” Laura smiled and looked up to Cole once more.
“You gotta name yet?” she asked him. Cole returned the smile, and said, “Yeah, but it’s a secret.”
Marie had already greeted Jody, and now the five of them hovered around the kitchen island as Marie put out snacks and hors d'oeuvres, Laura taking drink orders. The liquor cabinet was where it had always been, and Laura suppressed a memory of her papá taking up the same job that Laura found herself now occupying. She threw a glance Sandra’s way.
“Want me to make you some sort of fruity fake cocktail creation?” Laura asked through a smile.
“ Please. Thank you, Laura. If you could somehow make it at least taste like alcohol, that would help,” Sandra added. Laura smiled and went to work.
Later, Jody had said a short Athabascan prayer, and they all had dug in to a meal of baked ham and roasted vegetables, whipped potatoes with melting pads of butter and freshly baked bread. For the most part, the conversation remained light and airy, almost to the point where Laura felt relief from her previous moment of weakness upstairs, but as lunch progressed, Laura started noticing Marie more. Laura now sat at the head end of the table, to Marie’s opposite. It was Logan’s old seat. It hadn't been a conscious choice on Laura’s part, but a couple of years ago she had fallen in the habit of doing it, especially when they had company over. Because of this, she was able to look at Marie head-on, and, this afternoon especially, Laura wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.
Everyone knew that Laura and Marie were mutants. Cole also knew Marie had absorbed Logan, but Jody and Sandra didn’t. It was obvious to Laura that Marie was trying to stay present, but every once in awhile Laura caught the older mutant staring off into the distance, and for the hundredth, thousandth time, Laura wondered what Logan was saying to her. Over the past few years, especially as Laura had gotten older, Marie tried her best to reiterate what Logan said or didn’t inside her mind, which Laura often appreciated, even if she didn’t fully understand it. Laura also knew that Marie could, in fact, let Logan take control of Marie’s body if he ever felt so inclined, but, from Laura’s experience, that seemed to rarely, rarely happen. Laura assumed that, for one, it had to be fucking weird, and for two she new that the Logan in Marie’s mind had serious ethical problems with disregarding mental autonomy. So, often, if Laura was “talking” to Logan, Marie played interpreter, qualifying and softening phrases with “Logan says” and “he’s telling me to tell you.” Not for the first time, Laura wondered how much they had discussed protocol about what would happen while the real Logan, her papá, was still truly alive. But those last few weeks had been so messy, chaotic, and terrible, so Laura doubted they had. But who really knew? The main problem was that Laura knew Marie would have long and unyielding conversations with him. Marie could sit for hours staring off in the distance, and from the outside it simply seemed she had left her body for a while. This, especially when Laura was in high school, had been what had made Laura jealous, what still got her caught up in a swarm of envy. She was supposed to be over it, that incessant feeling of being left out. But was she? Laura frowned a little, forcing herself to look up from the food still on her plate.
Cole was sitting to Laura’s left, and now was openly staring at her in concern. Laura sighed, before flashing him what she hoped as a reassuring smile.
“You gonna eat?” Cole asked, gesturing to her full plate and stating the question loud enough to where the conversation between Jody, Sandra, and Marie had quieted and everyone was now looking at her.
“Uhh, yeah, sorry,” Laura murmured, stabbing a steamed carrot with her fork and dutifully bringing it to her mouth. Awkwardly the conversation returned to normal, although Laura was sure to notice Marie’s gaze lingered on Laura for longer than it probably should have.
--
After lunch had ended and Laura had helped with the dishes, they had retired with sherry and a sparkling cider for Sandra in the living room. Marie put on a Louis Prima record, and they talked about Cole’s job and Laura’s life in New York and how well Marie’s garden was coming along that year. Throughout most of this Laura instinctively noted that Cole’s eyes often never left her, and Laura found herself becoming a little uncomfortable. He had been her friend for over ten years, and although she always assumed he still had some sort of unresolved thing for her, usually that rarely got in the way of their friendship. What the hell was up with him? As the conversation dwindled, and Sandra mentioned maybe going back home to Jody’s to nap, Cole cleared his throat, and Laura realized she was about to get her answer.
“So...uhh...I know we have to leave soon, but, Laura? I wanted to let you know before we did so, I think we might have found one,” he said simply. Laura perked up a bit at this, her tired mind churning, hoping Cole was saying what she thought he was.
“You mean...Bill…?” she asked. For the last year or so, Cole had been working with an old law school buddy who just happened to now be a very, very powerful lobbyist with close ties to both the Canadian government and the deep pockets interested in expanding efforts to protect mutant rights. Very discreetly, Bill had been sniffing around, planting bugs in ears and making efforts to garner potential donors who would be interested in funding a newly revived X-Men team in America. If Laura had any lingering questions as to why any Canadian money be interested in American mutant rights efforts, they had been answered by witnessing the terrible impact of the political fallout in the past twenty years in America, that had left the country crippled and unstable. S.H.I.E.L.D had been disbanded years ago, and certainly the government was not able to be trusted, and many Canadians were worried that with the resurgence of mutant famlies and children, America would respond rashly and with selfish interests. And that shit always had the potential to bleed over into Canada. At least, this was what Bill was telling people.
“Yeah. Private donor. Bill doesn’t have the complete ID, but my guess the donor’s one of the mutants from the old days that’s never quite outed themselves, but has secretly funded private efforts. I guess he was broken up over the Westchester incident. Was a real big proponent of the way Charles used to do things. Alpha Flight already collects a hefty check from him as it is.”
“If the donor’s even a ‘he.’ We don’t even know that for sure,’” Sandra deftly added, to a nod of approval from both Marie and Laura.
“How much, Cole?” Laura found herself asking through narrowed eyes. She was instantly suspicious of people with money or too much power, mutant or no, a personality trait, she assumed, she inherited from her father.
“Apparently...practically endless. The money would act as a rotating endowment. As much as you need, was the quote. Enough for renovations, specialists who can work on the equipment, maybe even get the systems in the basement or that freaking plane Laura’s been rattling on about back online. A new virtual security system, the works,” Cole said.
Laura could hardly believe her ears, and didn’t until she heard the sharp intake of his breath, Cole’s heartbeat speeding up just the slightest bit, and she realized there was more.
“What’s the catch, Cole?” Laura asked, just as Marie shot her a wary, cautious glance.
“Hardly a catch at all. Most of this comes with no strings attached. Well, save the one.”
Laura frowned. Suddenly, she didn’t like where this was going. Backers with conditions were, of course, to be expected, but a backer with only one condition, well...typically that meant something big. Something Laura may not be able to deliver on.
“The condition is that, along with all the efforts to thwart injustice in both Canada and domestically, the X-Men also use the mansion for what it was intended for,” Cole said.
“And what's that?” Laura asked, looking intently at her childhood friend, her first ‘date’ before she knew what she truly was, and the only boy she had ever kissed. Cole caught her stare, and smiled slightly before responding.
“A school.”
--
“So he wants to know what you’re gonna do,” Marie said sleepily, looking a little bored as she moved Logan’s bishop to a new black square. Laura frowned, finding it practically laughable that Marie didn’t understand how good and complicated a move she had just made regarding the chess game, although, of course, it hadn’t been her move to begin with. Laura bit her lip, she hadn’t made a decision yet about what to do, regarding bishop or the money.
“I can’t very well start a school with only three X-Men,” Laura mumbled. “Plus, I don’t have an education degree. Plus, who would run it?”
“I didn’t have a degree back in the day,” Marie murmured to Laura.
“I guess that’s a good point,” she said thoughtfully, moving a pawn forward. “And I know Papá sure as hell didn’t.”
“Doesn’t,” Marie corrected her, and Laura looked up sharply to the older woman, before Marie, or Logan maybe, snagged another one of Laura’s pawns.
“Sorry,” Laura muttered. “Still, I’d need more teachers. Heck, I would need students .” Marie considered this statement carefully before responding.
“Well, the first wave of mutant children born after Transigen are just hitting puberty now,” Marie remarked. “The timing couldn't be better.” Laura considered this for a moment, before responding.
“Another good point. But, heck, I’d need books, supplies, a working X-Jet, not to mention Cerebro…” she trailed off.
“Why would you needta mess with Cerebro?” Marie said, and then, blinking once or twice added, “Sorry. His words, not mine.” Laura stared at Marie with a bit of concern for a moment, before trying to clarify.
“Just getting it back online...that’s the point of it right? To track other mutants, to find them and to bring them to our doors?”
“ Our doors?” Marie suddenly asked. The question threw Laura for a loop, and she suddenly wasn’t so sure who she was talking to anymore.
“Egh, you know what I mean,” Laura grumbled. Meanwhile, Marie was moving quickly across the board, and was positioning her queen threateningly in front of Laura’s king.
“Check,” Marie muttered.
“So what does Logan think?” Laura asked, carefully considering her next move.
“He’s not opposed to the idea of a school, but he doesn’t like you tied up in any of it. Especially tangled up in any sort of contract with a backer with conditions…” Marie said, before biting her lip and then adding, “Or with the X-Men in general…” Laura rolled her eyes at this, willfully moving her king out of harm’s way.
“He hated the idea of me fighting at all,” Laura grumbled.
“ Hates the idea,” Marie corrected again, and Laura sighed.
“Look, I’m desperate. It’s overwhelming to think about, but I don’t know what else to do. America needs the X-Men, and they probably need Charles’ Institute too. And there’s no one else who’s gonna lead the charge. At least not right now. Enough time has passed that...well...our PR problem has lessened, too. And I’d start up a three ring circus in the grand foyer if it meant enough money to get the Jet up and running,” she grumbled, as Marie swung a knight a few spaces forward.
“But?” Marie asked… and only then did Laura realize that there was a ‘but’, that she was considering giving the backer any answer other than yes.
“The likelihood of help,” Laura muttered, moving the queen a few spaces left diagonally and immediately regretting that decision. At least she still wasn’t going to lose. Not yet. Laura looked up once more to the older woman in front of her with the platinum and brown hair in her lounge pants and gray cable-knit cardigan, and she wondered once more about the amalgamation that was, and forever would be, Marie. She missed her mother.
“Why won’t you move to New York?” Laura asked softly. Marie frowned and was quiet for a long moment, obviously lost in some sort of inner conversation, and Laura waited patiently for the woman to return to herself.
“My place is here,” Marie said softly, before positioning her queen in front of Laura’s king again.
“Check,” she muttered.
“Your place was there though, for decades,” Laura said softly. Again, Laura moved her king out of harm’s way.
“Not anymore,” Marie said, And then Marie swiftly moved a rook across the board, killing Laura’s queen. Laura sighed, resigned to really losing now, especially with her right hand woman now down for the count, and resorted to standing.
“Fuck,” Laura cursed, stretching as she did so. “You mind if I open a bottle of whiskey?” she asked. Instantly Marie looked uncomfortable, her eyes running up Laura’s thin body once more.
“He says you should cool it with the drinking if you’re gonna do this for real,” Marie said carefully. To this, Laura only snorted, shaking her head a bit in disbelief as she padded over to the liquor cabinet, cracking open a fresh bottle of the good stuff.
“Well,” Laura said through another shake of the head as she filled an empty glass way too full. “You tell him I follow by example, or at least I did. You know. When he had a body. And he could drink.”
“You don’t need me to tell him, he can hear you,” Marie said evenly, and then followed it up with, “And watch yer tone, kid.” Laura whipped her head back over to where Marie was sitting, sick and tired of guessing who was speaking, sick and tired of all of it.
“Well this just in. I’m a grown woman, and I’ll do whatever I goddamn please,” Laura said, bringing the glass to her lips before plopping back down on the couch. “And forget I asked for your help. I can do it myself anyway,” she grumbled, through another heavy gulp. Marie had one eyebrow cocked, and Laura a challenge in her features even as looked back to the chessboard before her. Marie was still frowning, and Laura noticed she wasn’t relaxed anymore, sitting up as straight as she was, body tense.
“This is serious ,” she finally said, pointing a finger in Laura’s direction. “Opening a school, becoming an X-Man, that’s serious business. There used to be a certain... pride in all of it. It’s not something to talk about so lightly.”
Laura laughed a bit cruelly before taking another drink of whiskey, its dulling effects just now breaking through her body’s healing factor. Her anger was growing. Beneath the surface, she could feel el animal pacing, feeling both confused and threatened. “Like everything I’ve been doing these past few months, practically on my own, is just a bit of light fun and games. El hecho de que ustedes vienen ocultándose aquí no significa que el mundo ha dejado de girar. Ustedes se quedarían en shock con las cosas que he visto.”
The fact that you two have been hiding here does not mean that the world stops spinning. You would be in shock with the things that I have seen.
“The things you’ve seen?!” Marie said in a dangerous whisper. Laura ignored her, pressing on.
“Yeah. Dani nearly had her arm ripped out of her socket the other day. Rictor was shot,” Laura touted off, forcibly picking up a knight and shoving it forward on the board as the older mutant rounded on her.
“They got hurt because of your carelessness! Wise up, kid! Yer not ready for this shit. Yer a little girl paradin’ around with her daddy’s briefcase and title, thinkin’ that somehow qualifies you to make grown up decisions about things yer only startin’ to understand. This thing, it’s bigger than you. Oh and fuckin’ check.”
Laura simply blinked at Marie, as it was obvious her tone, cadence and natural rhythm of her speech had changed. There was no question left now. In these moments of anger, Logan had taken over, finally resolved to truly give Laura a piece of his mind. Laura let out a low, threatening growl in response.
“Says the invisible, parasitic man who lives inside a middle-aged woman who can’t do shit about shit ,” Laura snarled.
“Watch yer tongue,” Logan’s words still flying out of Marie’s mouth. “What yer doin’, it’s bigger than all of us, kid, so you better wise up and make careful and informed and sober choices if you’re gonna do this thing right, if yer even capable of that.”
Laura now blinked back tears, wildly staring at the two most important people in her life, the two people who now, for better or for worse, occupied one body. None of it made any fucking sense. They wanted her to lead; they didn’t want her to lead. They wanted her to do it right, but wouldn’t bother instructing her on how to do it properly.
“Then why won’t you move to New York and help me?!” Laura finally settled on, her voice breaking as she spoke, fumbling with moving a pawn blindly across the board, but Logan was already shaking Marie’s head for her.
“I won’t sacrifice Marie so you can run off and live out some fuckin’ childhood superman fantasy. The X-Men were dead, and you shoulda left ‘em that way. You started this mess on yer own, so you deal with it on yer own,” Logan growled through Marie’s voice. Moving the pieces easily, Logan was suddenly grasping Laura’s king in Marie’s hand, before grumbling “Checkmate.” Laura only growled in response, and, suddenly wanting to be far away from everything, she stood up, throwing one more nasty glance at Logan or Marie or whoever the fuck it was, before stalking out of the room, leaving them both behind.
--
Laura stared up at the darkened bedroom ceiling, lost deep in thought. There was no hope for sleep tonight, not with what had transpired. God, he could be such a stubborn asshole Laura thought, and then she frowned again. He was so much like who he was, and yet, inherently not. Her papá had been reading glasses and whiskey and newspapers. He had smelled like leather and aftershave and the woods. Even when he was painfully ill, he had been a tough sonofabitch, and he had loved Laura and he had always listened to her. Laura knew, without a doubt, that the man she had known would be right alongside her, helping her do this thing. The man that resided in Marie’s mind, not that he was a man at all, was way too attached, too close, too obsessed with the woman he’d loved. Laura frowned, throwing the orange comforter off her. It was sleepless nights like these that she missed him the most. And...especially this time of the year. Laura’s eyes were dry, but the threat of tears bubbled up again and she pushed it all back down.
In total, she had had eleven months with her padre. Eleven, but not quite twelve.
Laura sighed, sitting up and holding her arms close to her body. And then, realizing it was probably a decent enough night for it, she arched a brow and snuck a glance over to the tiny desk, the one that he had bought her and still was perched on the other end of the room. She willfully stood and stalked over to the desk, rifling through the bottom drawer. As a part of its contents, a cardboard box of decent cigars and a bottle of mostly full Maker’s Mark from where she had left them last time. That’s more like it, Laura. She pulled out both items, tucking them under her arm, meanwhile snagging her black leather jacket from off the back of the desk chair.
She walked down the stairs and through the darkened house silently, noting that Marie had gone to bed. Laura was grateful for it, hoping to avoid an awkward run-in, and now crept out of the walk-out basement, past Marie’s garden, to where the woods began, edging the property line. She deliberately put a wide berth between her and her father’s grave, instead walking toward the southwest portion of the the woods. The night was alive in that summertime way already, the sounds of nocturnal life humming around everything.
She smiled when she saw it, hugging the bottle and the box she still carried closer to her. Tucked under a large pine tree was the rusted Bronco, in the same spot Marie and Laura had laid it to rest all those years ago. It had given its final chug up the hill to the house that following winter after her father had died, and with no one wanting to get rid of the car, here it sat. Years had passed, and most of the engine had been hollowed out for spare parts, but the back cabin remained a hide-out of sorts, and Laura noted the fresh clean blankets stored in its trunk and the little AM/PM radio that Marie had picked up from Kay’s shop well over a decade ago, that looked itself to be from the nineteen nineties. Laura smiled once more, snagging the radio and flipping it on, while laying out a couple blankets, before climbing in and sitting in the back with her feet hanging off the side. She then took out the box, grateful for the lighter nestled there, and lit the first cigar, inhaling deeply, while popping off the cap to the whiskey bottle and indulging. As the croon of a Nat King Cole song hit the night air, she settled in and reasoned that if she couldn’t be with her father, she could at least smell him in the air and pay homage to everything he had been, everything good and real.
--
She called me a fucking parasite.
I think the words were, “Invisible, parasitic man,” Marie thought through a smile.
Hell, Logan swore, and Marie practically heard the exasperated sigh that accompanied it.
She thinks we’re freaks. She doesn’t wanna think I’m the real deal, Logan said, and Marie could feel the hurt note in his voice.
She’s just upset...and I’m not so sure she doesn’t have a point about needing help, Marie thought.
Well that’s for fuckin’ sure. She’s ignorant about the whole thing, darlin’.
And who’s fault is that? Marie questioned.
Logan didn’t say anything from inside her mind, and it was Marie who outwardly sighed, turning over once more in the dark of their bedroom. It was going to be impossible to sleep, but her body, even with Logan’s healing factor, still felt tired and lying down helped.
This is so much harder now than it was when she was younger, Marie thought. She’s so willful.
Ya think she’d be anything but? Logan joked, Marie feeling his soft chuckle in her head. Marie laughed outwardly a little as well, but, remembering the more bitter events of the evening, she frowned once more.
You shouldn't have taken over without my permission, Marie argued. That goes against everything we’ve fought for.
For a while, he was remained silent. She knew that he knew that he had broken the cardinal rules, and there was really nothing they could do about it now. It had actually taken Marie quite some time to get used to having a fully conscious presence in her mind constantly, even if it was Logan. But they’d had over a decade’s worth of practice now, and the internal relationship they now had seemed to work. During her most intimate moments or when Marie needed space or he himself needed some, Logan now knew how to retreat to the far recesses of her mind, releasing his consciousness from her senses and letting her be alone. She’d call him back though, always, and he’d return. And tonight...well. Tonight had only been the third time in a little less than thirteen years that he had taken over her body without her permission—and one of those previous times had only been to move her out of the way of a falling tree limb— and the effect was wholly... unsettling.
She needed to hear the truth, he finally settled on arguing.
At what cost? Marie shot back. Sugar, she’s as stubborn as you. She’s not gonna listen to anything she doesn’t want to hear. Marie could once more feel Logan tiredly sigh in her mind.
Do you think Laura is really doing the wrong thing? Marie asked softly after some time. Reviving the X-Men?
Kid, I don't even know anymore. What yer askin’...it’s complicated, yeah? Does the political climate suggest somebody should do somethin’? Yeah, I think so. Do all those mutant kids who are likely to get thrown out of their homes all over again deserve someplace to go? Yes to that too.
But? Marie whispered quietly.
S’about being practical, you know? Laura needs to be realistic about what she’s able to do.
Marie couldn’t help but chuckle at that particular quip.
Why are ya laughing at me, kid?
It’s just...always you and the realism. You always say you’re loyal to practicality and practicality alone, but you’re still every bit as idealistic as I used to be. And Laura’s just like you.
As you used to be? Logan asked, catching her slip, and Marie buried her face more deeply into the pillow.
I’m tired too, you know, Marie said blankly.
Logan paused for a long moment, obviously deep in thought. Meanwhile, Marie’s eyes kept fluttering closed sleepily, and she was about to drift off when she finally heard him again.
I did this, he was murmuring to her. Her eyes snapped open.
Did what? Marie asked.
Laura’s right. I am a fuckin’ parasite. So goddamned selfish. Had to drink more than my fill, stay around long after I shoulda gone. Marie’s heart wrenched at his defeatist tone, and she found that she was outwardly shaking her head.
You think I’d want it any other way? she asked softly.
You don’t think I’ve...stalled your life? Logan asked.
There was hardly a life left to stall, Marie thought quietly.
Even when I…
When you what?
When I was dyin’, kid?
You’re not dead.
Yeah I am.
No, you’re not.
No one spoke for a long time, and Marie realized that her face was wet from the tears springing from her eyes.
Fuck. Don’t cry, baby.
Sorry, Marie whispered. Sometimes, god. Sometimes I wish you could hold me.
There was no answer for a moment, but then Logan’s voice was in her mind again, even and thin.
We’re workin’ on it kid, Logan thought.
That, at least, was true. Recently and without Laura’s knowledge, Marie had found and had been visiting a telepath in Yellowknife who’d been working with Marie on mind projection. To Marie, it was the holy grail of mental ability, the very idea that Marie could create physical space inside her own mind and place Logan and Marie there. So that they could touch each other, hold each other. As of late Marie could only catch glimpses of him in any sort of physical form, but it was something, and when it had happened, it had been revelatory.
We’ll get there baby, Logan always said, and because they were getting better at it, it practically felt like a whisper in her ear. Some time passed, and Marie watched the ceiling fan toss the air about the room. Logan mentally sat there with her, refusing to go anywhere, and took in the same sounds and sights and smells as Marie as she lay there, breathing.
Just then, the sound, as quiet as it was, of Laura’s feet from upstairs. The rustling about in a drawer. And then she was coming down to the first floor, then to the basement. The sound of the back door opening and closing, the smell of the night air.
There she goes, Logan said wearily.
Off again, Marie agreed. Think she’s headed to the Bronco?
Hell yeah. Couldn’t you smell the Maker’s Mark? She’s got cigars too.
Marie said nothing, hesitant.
She misses the real thing, Logan muttered.
You are the real thing, Marie argued.
She doesn’t see it that way. Give her ten minutes, and go after her, he thought.
You think? Marie asked.
Yeah. You need to talk this out with her.
Marie frowned at that.
Uh uh. You’re not getting out of this one. You need to as well. I’ll play interpreter, but you’re not keeping quiet for this conversation. It’s too important.
A beat of silence, and then the sound of his voice once more.
Fair enough.
--
Marie could hear the scratchy chords of “Folsom Prison Blues” coming from across the yard, and she hugged the cardigan she had thrown on more closely to her as she walked out of the house and through the dark. This time of year days even this far north were comfortable, even warm, but nights were still often oddly cool. The smell of rich cigar smoke got stronger as Marie walked the short distance to where the Bronco was. The air was crisp and just a little bit warmer because of the smoke. Taking a deep breath in, Marie sighed in satisfaction.
I get why she does this, Marie said.
Yeah, was all Logan offered in reply.
Marie was sure Laura had known she was coming, but Laura did nothing to show it. She was now laying in the bed of the bronco, one slender leg still hanging out the back of the open trunk, sipping whiskey from the bottle and still listening to Johnny Cash. Marie smiled as she laid eyes on her daughter, the earlier tension of the evening dissipating as she murmured a “Hey” in Laura’s direction.
Laura raised her head slightly, propping herself up on her elbows, offering Marie a quiet smile, before sitting up completely and handing the bottle of Maker’s Mark to Marie, snubbing out the last of the cigar as she did so. The older woman took the bottle from Laura, quietly sitting next to her daughter in the bed of the Bronco. Taking a moment to quietly relish the whiff of oak and anise, the burn of the liquor in her throat instantly warmed her, even as the night air enveloped them both.
Fuck, that tastes good, Logan muttered. You don’t drink enough whiskey.
I’ll drink whatever I damn well please, Marie thought, although she took another generous sip of the stuff before setting the bottle down between them and surveying Laura more carefully.
“I’m sorry,” Marie finally whispered to her after some time, eyes still cast downward toward the sneakers she had slipped on and the darkened grass beyond them.
Apologize for me too kid, Logan said.
“He’s sorry as well,” Marie added.
Laura let out a breathy, bitter laugh, before picking the bottle back up from between them and taking a long pull.
“It’s more than a little weird,” Laura finally said through a small shake of her head, “...whatever it is you two have got going on.”
“You have no idea,” Marie grumbled.
“What’s...it like?” Laura muttered, and Marie paused, considering. It wasn’t the first time Laura had asked her this question, and had in fact asked it periodically over the past decade or so, and Marie was still never entirely sure how to respond, how to get her to understand.
Why’s she askin’ about this again, right now? Logan asked.
She misses you, like you said, Marie responded simply. She wants to feel closer. She only heard Logan sigh frustratingly.
“Maybe like...I dunno….” Marie began, trying to form some sort of acceptable answer for her daughter. “Maybe like having someone on the phone constantly, but they can still put down their own phone and walk off if they want, even if they rarely do,” Marie murmured.
Marie expected Laura to solemnly accept this answer, but, instead, Laura cocked a brow, a devilish look dancing about her features as she handed Marie the bottle once more.
“So you two ever like...you know...have phone sex?” Laura asked playfully. Marie almost spit out the sip of whiskey she’d been drinking, and afterward couldn’t help but throw a guilty grin in her daughter’s direction, even as she listened to Logan’s stream of protests.
Where the fuck does she get off askin’ those kinds of questions?!
Marie chuckled a little, glancing to Laura. “He’s freaking out right now.”
Laura grinned. “That’s why I asked,” she muttered, and, looking at Marie more closely she added, “Pay back, dad. Checkmate.” before snagging the bottle from Marie once more.
Marie smiled again, even as Logan was grumbling still in her mind. Shivering a little, Marie grabbed a spare blanket, turning slightly and pressing her back up against the side of the Bronco, glancing out to take in the sight of the lakehouse beyond them.
“Remember when you were...heck, I don’t know, fourteen or fifteen... and you decided you were in love with Mia Williams?” Marie said with a grin. Laura only rolled her eyes through a sip of whiskey, before setting the bottle down between them once more.
“God, please, don’t remind me,” she said, but Marie continued on.
“You said you’d gladly rip out your own heart-- me arrancaría mi propio corazón-- to kiss her. Think you might’ve even wrote than in a sonnet,” Marie added through a grin, and she watched Laura cringe at the memory.
Where you goin’ with this, darlin’? Logan was asking, but Marie momentarily ignored him.
“Yeah... and?” Laura asked, staring at Marie quizzically.
“That kinda...obsession. That feeling of being lovesick? That’s sorta how I feel about your father. Certainly how I felt about him at seventeen. Still pretty much do,” Marie murmured.
Laura smiled softly, but then cast her gaze downward, shaking her head slightly in what seemed to be partial disbelief over such a notion. “How did you...?” she trailed off.
“How did I what?” Marie questioned.
“Find someone to love like that ?” Laura said.
Oh hell, she could hear Logan say, and now he was the one practically squirming. Candid conversations like these between mother and daughter were usually times when he’d make himself scarce, but Marie had asked him to stay present tonight, and they both knew he’d keep his word.
Marie ignored Logan and just shrugged her shoulders. “Wasn’t easy. I spent a lot of years alone.” Marie could tell Laura was thoughtfully considering this, even as she was drawing her knees up closer to her, resting her folded arms on her jeans.
“You know… I never understood it. Papá never seemed the type to settle down. It was like his whole thing with you was some sort of….strange anomaly,” Laura said quietly.
She’s worried about herself, Marie was surprised to hear Logan interject. Wonderin’ why she’s got all that thirst, why it seems impossible for her to do the same. She forgets how fucking young she is. She’s got too much of that wild animal in her still, too much she’s got to satiate.
“Your father thinks it’s gonna take some time. That you’re….young yet,” Marie translated. At this, Laura looked up sharply to the older woman.
“Does he now?” Laura asked carefully. Marie exhaled slowly, picking up the bottle once more between them and dutifully drinking, now intent to get at the main reason why she had come out here in the first place.
“Look, Laura. It wasn’t fair what happened tonight. To you or to me. Or...come to think of it, to Logan. He took over without my permission, but I can understand why he did so. He’s worried about you--”
“--he doesn’t trust me,” Laura interrupted.
Couldn’t be farther from the truth, kid, Logan thought.
“He says you’re totally wrong about that,” Marie interjected quickly. At this, Laura stared up at Marie, eyes wide and dark.
“I just… then why? It’s more than a little infuriating. You both keep contradicting yourselves. You say you want me to make my own decisions, to live my life, but when I decide how I want to do that, you’re mad at the choices I make. You tell me to be careful to resurrect the X-Men, but other than a couple random pointers here and there, you won’t exactly tell me how to even go about doing that. I’m just not sure...what you want from me.”
Marie’s brow furrowed at this.
‘What we want from her?’ Fuck. She’s still aiming to please us, Logan muttered, even as Marie began to speak.
“Look, Laura, you might have a point. Parenting….it’s super difficult stuff. And I’m sorry if we’ve been...all over the place. The X-Men, well, there was a time it meant something very important to us both, so if we seem a little protective over the notion of reviving that particular brand, that’s why. But whatever the X-Men mean to us, you mean more. And...in the end...when it comes to your life, it’s not about what we want. You have to do what's best for you. It’s as simple as that,” Marie muttered, but she realized Laura’s frown had only deepened.
“What would be best for me is if you would move to New York, help oversee restorations to the X-Mansion,” Laura said.
Marie frowned a bit at this and said nothing.
“Everything you’ve got is inside of you. All the memories. So holding on to all this… here, even this damn car ,” Laura paused, patting the side of the Bronco, “doesn’t make sense. It’s dead, but it’s like you’re still trying to keep it all alive. This place is starting to feel like a museum,” Laura said flatly. Marie scowled slightly at that, her daughter’s words cutting her more sharply than she wanted to admit to. Inside her head, Logan was quiet.
“It’s not... dead. I still live here, hija. Everything I do, every choice I make, is real. I’m real, and so is he,” Marie added wearily. Laura crossed her arms, frowning slightly in disagreement.
“Sorry, but...it’s such a waste. And I’m not...idealizing you like I used to. I understand you’re not about to zip on a leather uniform and repel off a building. But you and Logan... you’ve got decades of memories, of tactical strategy and wisdom at your disposal. You don’t think we wouldn't benefit from that? Hay River garners nothing from you sitting around in Kay’s shop...or from sketching honey bees and growing herbs. The world, those children, benefit from you showing me how to revive the X-Men, how I could make things work. Plus…” Laura stopped herself, and Marie cocked her head.
“Plus what, hija?” Marie found herself asking. No point in not being honest now.
“Plus you might be alive for a long time, Marie,” Laura guiltily murmured, looking down at her hands. “He gave you that. You really think you wanna live here forever? Even after Jody goes? Do you really want to stick around, watch everyone you love slowly die?”
Marie exhaled exasperatedly, growing steadily more uncomfortable as Laura clawed at the truth of something Marie didn’t quite want to face. Watching people die had always been Logan’s modus operandi, and ever since absorbing Logan, Marie still wasn’t sure how to quite face that particular fact. So far, she had simply been avoiding it.
Kid’s got a point, Logan finally muttered. Inwardly though, Marie was shaking her head. It was more complicated than that. There were a lot of ways, a whole lot of ways, you could watch someone die. And while Laura had a little experience with Alpha Flight, she certainly hadn’t had to endure many moments like that yet.
I don’t like where you’re goin’ with this darlin’, Logan growled softly.
Laura doesn't know the whole story. Maybe that’s part of the problem.
She doesn’t need to.
She does if she wants to be an X-Man.
“I’ve already watched plenty of people die. And so has your father. Heck, he’s had to watch people die more than once,” she murmured.
“What do you mean?” Laura asked.
Baby. Don’t. She doesn’t need to hear this shit. Not now. Marie ignored the voice in her head and continued on.
“It’s one of the reasons why he’s so protective of me. Of you,” Marie murmured.
“More than once...” Laura said, considering this thoughtfully. “You mean...what? Because of the multiple timelines?” The jump had rarely been discussed neither before or after Marie had absorbed Logan, and Marie could feel Laura’s curiosity spiking at the insinuation.
“I stayed back,” Marie murmured.
Darlin’...
“What do you mean…’stayed back’?” Laura asked in the dark. Around them, the night had quieted somewhat, but the crickets nestled in the grass still sang their song, while the radio dutifully replaced the music of Johnny Cash with Tom Waits.
“We had inhibitor collars around our necks. His healing factor was gone because of it. They were torturing him, and he was dying. I knew...if I could only get to the head scientist and touch him, I could get the codes to undo Logan’s collar. So I did what I had to do. I...removed mine. The collars shot a poison in you if you just ripped them off, you know? You’d be dead within minutes...but minutes were enough. I managed to absorb enough of the man with the codes, brought your father back, and we were able to escape, get them all safely to the Blackbird,” she muttered.
“Them ?” Laura asked quietly.
“The other... we never told you this?...the other children. In the medbay,” Marie said, blinking at her slowly.
What’s the use in telling her all this baby? Logan asked.
If she’s going to be an X-Man, she has to know what it means. Really means, to watch people die, to give people up, Marie reasoned.
She already does, Marie. She watched me die. Gave me up. Again, Marie ignored him.
“I wasn’t the same...person. But I have enough memories to know what it was like. Watching your father run ahead of me, a little mutant girl wrapped in his arms…” something in Marie’s voice broke as she felt that other woman’s pain, and she tried to blink back the nascent beginnings of tears. “All while...while the fucking world fell apart. They were gonna bomb the place, and I knew I was dying. So when Blink opened the portal I...I... just stopped,” Marie ended. Laura looked up to her, carefully meeting her mother’s eyes.
“You knew you were dying, and you didn’t go through, did you?” Laura asked.
“No,” Marie murmured, and Laura was already shaking her head.
“ God. You must’ve broken his fucking heart.”
Marie listened out for Logan, but he had gone completely quiet.
Did I, sugar? She asked the blank space in her mind.
No answer. Marie sighed, continuing on.
“He spent eight years without me,” she said quietly.
“While the world went even more to shit,” Laura said bitterly.
“Laura...they tried,” Marie argued back. Something in Laura had shifted though, and there was a newfound, fiery resolve in her voice as she spoke once more.
“And what’s to say that won’t happen again? Won’t happen now?” Laura asked, and an involuntary shiver shot down Marie’s spine. The truth was, America was shaping up to look strikingly similar to how it did around the turn of the millennium in the original timeline. Things right now seemed, delicate, volatile, as if one wrong move could make the nightmares of a time forgotten come alive once more.
“You know,” Laura muttered bitterly, before looking up to Marie. “Or, perhaps…” she trailed off, still holding her gaze with the other mutant. “Logan...are you still there?”
Tell her I am, kid, Logan said to Marie, and Marie herself was surprised that he was.
I know I’ve been quiet, but I ain’t goin’ anywhere, he murmured.
“He-he’s listening,” Marie said softly, eyes locked onto her daughter’s own now.
“Logan... Papá…. Remember that morning in the basement….during our kata a few weeks before...well…” Laura drifted off.
Tell her I do, Logan said.
“He remembers,” Marie muttered.
“Remember when you said that I needed to protect Marie? You said, of mutantkind especially, that things ‘always have a way of going south’?” Laura asked, and both Marie and Logan were quiet for a moment, letting their daughter continue on.
“This is me...protecting Marie. The United States, hell, even Canada, they need the X-Men. This is how we keep everyone safe,” Laura said simply. For a moment, Logan was absolutely silent, before he began to trip over his words.
Tell her...fuck. Goddamnit, Laura. Tell her….
“What do you want us to say?” Marie breathlessly asked.
“That I’m right,” Laura said. “That...that you both know you should help me, but you can’t because you’re caught up in all of this,” Laura argued, gesturing about the cabin of the Bronco and the house beyond. “That you’re still grieving. That his death-- and he did die, Mom -- that it hurt you. And that all of this feels like playing house, like not dealing with it. You’re cut off from the rest of the world here, from everything real, and even though he’s with you, you’re not with us,” Laura finished softly.
Jesus christ, Laura…. Logan murmured, while Marie was openly crying now.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Marie finally said softly. “How can I grieve him, mourn him, when he’s so real? When he’s right here? ” she asked, gently tapping her temple as she did so.
Laura frowned at this, a pained expression on her features as she climbed toward her mother, taking Marie’s hand and threading her fingers in Laura’s own.
“Mom... “ Laura said, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Laura stopped, sighing. “Look. I’m not asking for my parents to take care of me. I know, trust me, I know, my personal life’s a wreck, but what I’m doing here...it’s not wrong. And I can’t do it without your help. I don’t need my parents; that’s not what I’m asking for. I need X-Men,” Laura said resolutely.
Fucking hell, Logan muttered. Marie could practically feel Logan’s resolve bending to Laura’s will, and Marie started inwardly protesting. No. No. To go back there, to that place...to leave behind everything safe and good...
“Laura….I’m sorry…” Marie murmured, and Laura grimaced, tears welling in her eyes as the walls sprung up once more between them.
“It’s fine...I--” she stopped, moving away from Marie and hopping out of the Bronco.
“I won’t bring it up again,” she said, her hands hugging her thin arms tightly. “I’m gonna...go inside now,” she said quietly. “You should too.”
And just like that, Marie watched her daughter trudge quietly back up to the lakehouse, head hung low in the dark.
--
The buzzer rang, and Laura frowned. She was currently pouring over debriefing paperwork under a single lamplight at her dining room table. Dani had managed to get the security footage from the facility, and Laura was now reviewing it over and over on a tablet, along with the transcriptions from the comms, trying to come to terms with everything that had gone wrong, every mistake she had made. A couple of days had passed, and she was back home in the cramped New York City apartment. Alone.
Pero no más. Laura sighed, grabbing her Molson off the table and stalking over to the door at the ring of the buzzer, opening it. A short, curvy woman with blonde hair thrown back in a ponytai currently sporting pajama bottoms and Ugg boots stood there, staring at her.
“You still have half my records,” Paige said curtly, brushing past Laura. Laura sighed, letting her pass, trying to put the intoxicating smell of body butter and expensive shampoo out of her mind.
“You coulda called,” Laura grumbled as she shut the door behind her, following Paige into the cramped living room. The younger woman was already flicking through the records in the corner, picking out Duran Duran and Arcade Fire, and Laura frowned. Mierda. There had been more than one occasion where Laura had hoped Paige wouldn’t notice those were missing.
As she picked through Laura’s collection, Paige glanced over to the right, and noticed the still-broken lamp in the corner. Frowning at it, she turned around back to Laura, who was still standing in the kitchen, cradling the Molson.
“You wanna beer at least while you’re here?” Laura asked. Paige sighed, and then nodded slightly, turning back around to the task at hand.
Laura exhaled tiredly, stalking over to the kitchen to pluck out the last longneck, noting she still needed to throw away the Chinese food. She easily popped off the cap and slowly walked over to where Paige stood, carefully minding the shattered pieces of ceramic that still littered the floor. Laura put a quiet hand on Paige’s shoulder to get her attention since Laura moved so silently, and Paige turned.
“Thanks,” Paige said, taking the drink from her, resigning to set the records down on the small coffee table off to her right. “I think that’s all of them.”
Laura simply tilted her own mostly-empty beer in Paige’s direction in mock-salute, before plopping down on the couch. Paige was still glancing about the room- probably to see how bad off I am without her, Laura thought grumpily--and her eyes settled on the mess of paperwork and still-illuminated tablet at Laura’s tiny dining room table/desk.
“You haven’t given up all that... superhero stuff yet?” Paige finally said, still standing as her worried blue eyes looked to Laura once more. Laura noticed she hadn’t taken a swallow of the beer yet and the Laura could only grumble in response, throwing one boot up on the coffee table, barely missing knocking the records over.
“Nope,” Laura said through a frown and another swallow of alcohol. Paige sighed, finally sitting down next to Laura on the couch and taking the first swig of beer.
“You don’t seem well,” Paige murmured after some time, fiddling with the sweating glass in her hands, sneaking another glance at Laura as she did so.
“That’s because I’m not,” Laura muttered.
“You manage to get funding yet?” Paige asked, looking back over to the table.
“Yeah,” Laura said. That caught Paige’s attention. At this, she turned to more directly face Laura, a small smile on her lips.
“Really?! You should have texted me!” Paige exclaimed, but noticing Laura’s deep frown still, her lips suddenly turned downward once again too.
“And why would I do that?” Laura growled, suddenly feeling the need to stand and walk back into the kitchen.
“ God, Laura,” Paige said bitterly through a slight shake of the head, before setting down her beer on top of the records. “You can be such a bitch when you wanna be.” Laura only snorted a bit at that, reaching now for the Emergency Bottle of Bourbon she kept on top of the refrigerator. Two-thirds of the way gone already. Damn.
“I don’t think I needta remind you who walked out on who,” Laura grumbled, sloppily filling up a glass and bringing it to her lips. At this, Paige stood.
“You drove me out,” she said, walking closer to Laura. So close in fact that Laura wasn’t so sure if it was the first taste of bourbon or Paige’s scent that was making Laura’s head spin.
“Yeah, I did,” Laura said quietly. At this confession, Paige seemed surprised, looking up to Laura quietly. Laura sighed, setting down the glass and carefully running a finger down the side of Paige’s cheek, frowning a bit as she did so.
“It’s my fault. I’m not...a healthy person to be around right now. And it’s not just the X-Men stuff,” Laura grumbled, even though she noted Paige had leaned into her touch, and el animal under the surface growled a bit approvingly in response.
“I knew that,” Paige muttered. Unable to help herself, Laura stepped closer, snaking a hand around Paige’s tiny waist and pulling her in, breathing deeply, planting her lips close to Paige’s neck, right at the base of her ear. “It was right for you to leave,” Laura murmured, even as she felt Paige’s pulse quicken, the smell of her arousal seeping into the air. God fucking damn. That scent.
“Y-Yeah,” Paige muttered, finally backing up a bit. Laura sighed, dropping her hand from her ex-girlfriend’s waist, and picked up the glass of bourbon once more.
“Take your records and split,” Laura muttered. “And if there’s anything else you forgot, just call next time.” Paige blinked at Laura, the beginnings of tears in her eyes, before she stalked back over to the records, removing the beer from where she set it on them, and then grabbed her bag.
On her way out though, she stopped in front of Laura once more, looking the mutant over carefully. She then quietly murmured, “You need help, Laura.”
Laura let out a quiet, bitter laugh, muttering a, “Kid, you have no idea. Now, sal de aquí,” through another swallow of bourbon. Paige only frowned, shaking her head slightly as she opened the door and forcibly closed it shut behind her, the reverberations making the punching bag lightly swing back and forth.
Laura groaned then, setting down the liquor once more and putting her face in her hands. She stayed like that for a while. Finally, her gaze slid upward, eyes settling on the swinging punching bag. Quickly shedding her jacket, Laura let out a yell as she struck it. She breathed heavily as it took the force of her hit, and, realizing she felt the tiniest bit better, she hit it again. And again. With each strike, she yelled out, uncaring of the fact her neighbors would likely complain again, and because of this she almost didn’t catch the ring of the buzzer once more. Whipping her head to the right, she snarled, stomping over to the door and shouting, “God, Paige, what else could you have possibly left? Because you sure as hell can’t take back your virginity. I own that shit now.” And as she swung the door open wide she saw Marie, several bags in hand, staring at her amusedly.
Laura immediately turned a deep shade of red, as Marie’s smiled widened.
“So...Paige was here?” Marie asked, and then, taking one sniff of the room, confirmed it.
“She was just picking up a couple of things she left behind,” Laura mumbled.
“Of what she could take back,” Marie teased. Again, Laura blushed.
“Please tell me Logan was off in some cabin in the woods deep in the recesses of your mind,” Laura muttered.
“Nope,” Marie said through a wicked grin, but didn’t elaborate, and Laura winced. It was then they both noticed that Laura’s hand was still on the door, still blocking Marie’s path.
“Why are you here?” Laura muttered.
Marie lifted up the bags in her hand. “Why do you think?” Laura simply blinked, staring at her.
“Are you gonna let us in?” Marie asked through a smile, and Laura sighed, standing back and letting Marie finally pass her to go inside.
As Marie glanced around the place, taking in the messy notes and open bottle of bourbon and Paige’s half empty beer bottle and the broken lamp and still-swinging punching bag, she stared back at Laura as she lowered her bags to the floor.
“Wow,” Marie muttered.
“ What?” Laura asked, looking around the room.
“Suddenly my life doesn’t look that bad,” she said through a devilish grin.
--
It was a long night. Hell, it had been a long few days. After Laura had left, Marie had immersed herself deep in her own mind, closing up the shop and locking the doors to be left alone, to have a long and important conversation with Logan about Laura. At several points Logan had specifically requested whiskey and cigars, and as Marie obliged him they went over their options. They both played devil’s advocate at times, but no matter what arguments they tried nothing could change either of their growing intuitions about what the right thing to do was. It was time, then, to return to New York. To return to Westchester. To return to the X-Men.
As Marie conveyed some of these sentiments to Laura, she was mildly surprised to note that Laura wasn’t acting happier about it. Instead, she listened carefully to Marie’s perspective, especially concerning how she should go about establishing the mansion as a school once more, and Marie realized, at some point, that Laura was being exceptionally mature about the whole thing.
She’s acting more like a leader, Logan had said. She’s serious about this.
As the hours crept by and they found themselves talking past the sunrise, both Laura and Marie decided that they would visit Westchester later that day, take inventory of the state of the place, and go from there. Marie knew that parts of the building were officially condemned, but they decided they would take their chances.
Now that it was light out, Marie hadn’t been able to sleep, even as she lay out the pullout in the living room, mulling over everything that had happened in her mind. Logan was quiet, he typically was when he was trying to offer Marie a bit of rest. Now, though, as she heard Laura snoring from her bed behind the thin wall that divided one room from the other, she tugged the blanket up closer to her chin, calling him forward.
I’m nervous, Marie thought firmly.
I know kid, Logan mumbled.
I haven’t set foot in that place since...well… since it all happened.
Neither have I, Logan muttered. Marie glanced around the tiny apartment from her spot on the bed and sighed.
I didn’t realize how….hard she was trying, Marie thought.
Hasn’t been able to get far though. Like she said, she needed help. Marie bit her lip a little at this.
She needs to get out of this place. She needs a decent headquarters, more mutants, hell even humans willing to help her, Marie added.
Yeah, she does, Logan said. Marie was silent for a bit of time.
I’m glad you left Hay River darlin’, he finally added. Marie frowned slightly, moving to sit up in the darkened living room.
Well, it’s not like the place is gone. JP is taking care of things, and Jody said she’d take care of my plants. At this Logan chuckled a little bit inside her head.
Yer leaving a lot behind. Sacrificing a lot to help her.
Again, Marie said nothing as she listened to the man she had loved practically her entire life, to the man she could no longer see, but felt with every fiber of her being.
Yer a good mother, kid, Logan said simply. Marie breathed out steadily, and she could feel the hot sting of a tear creep down her cheek.
Well, we still both have a long way to go, don’t we? Marie asked.
Maybe, Logan said. But at least it will be all of us, doing this thing together.
Like it used to be.
Yeah. Kinda like that.
--
Laura stared up at the stone and marble and the tangle of weeds and ivy strangling the entrance to the X-Mansion, and frowned.
“I’ve only been up here a couple of times,” she murmured. “We usually hang out in a little guard post on the far perimeter,” she clarified, before glancing over to Marie. Marie’s arms were crossed, and Laura noted that in the black leather jacket she had borrowed from Laura, the older woman appeared sharper, reminiscent of time long since past.
Finally, Marie breathed out, looking back to Laura through her sunglasses. “Welp, the damage won’t inventory itself. Let’s do it.”
A few minutes later, they were inside the main foyer, and Laura grimaced. The sharp scent of mildew filled the air, and several water stains marred the high ceiling. A collection of odd pieces of furniture had been covered with long, white sheets, and the floor was filthy.
“Damn, it’s worse than I thought,” Laura mumbled, but on turning back to her mother, Laura realized Marie had walked forward several steps, inexplicably drawn to the stairs.
“Mom….?” Laura asked, but Marie said nothing, quietly ascending the steps. Laura was silent then, content in simply following the older woman through the house. As they made their way through the long hallways, they walked past piles of rubble, more dilapidated furniture, and water damage that was making the plaster give way. There must be busted pipes all over this joint, Laura thought defeatedly. Laura was becoming incredibly overwhelmed by it all, tottering off a list of contractors she would need to hire in her head: plumber, heavy demolition specialist, mason, carpenter, probably a restoration professional to boot , she thought, and while doing so practically bumped into her mother when Marie came to stop by one of the heavy oak doors that was firmly shut closed.
“Mom?” Laura whispered again, glancing to the door.
“That was it,” Marie whispered, staring at the wooden frame.
“You mean…?” Laura trailed off. Their room. Where Marie woke up, realizing everyone had died. Where he had left her, thinking she’d gone.
Laura’s eyes rested on the room once more. “You wanna...go inside?” Laura asked, but Marie was already shaking her head no. “Neither of us want to,” Marie murmured. But, even as Marie made her way further down the hall, Laura still stood there, staring at the heavy oak frame, considering.
What did that mean? That her parents didn’t want to go in? Laura knew she couldn’t begin to understand the intricacies of the past, and yet, her mother stopping there, staring at the divide was instantly one of the moments that Laura knew would stay with her always. Laura glanced up at Marie as she continued before turning back to the door, frowning. A part of her wanted nothing more than to open the door, explore the life the two of them had shared that she had never known. She wanted it badly, more than she would care to admit. But it wasn’t her space, hadn’t ever been. That door, that passageway, was a firm divide between then and now, between real and not. Suddenly, Laura’s thoughts flew to a book she hadn’t read in a very, very long time.
I put it down on paper and then the ghost does not ache so much. I write it down and Mango says goodbye sometimes. She does not hold me with both arms. She sets me free.
Friends and neighbors will say, What happened to that Esperanza? Where did she go with all those books and paper? Why did she march so far away?
They will not know I have gone away to come back. For the ones I left behind. For the ones who cannot out.
Laura thought, then, maybe she understood. Or could learn to, in time.
She then looked forward, noticing her mother had turned down the far hall, and walked more quickly to catch up with both of them. Marie glanced up at Laura through a smile, as Laura now matched her pace.
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Chapter End Notes:
I apologize for being so behind posting this story here, but I thought I would update it now that I'm finished.