Logan tore through the snow ahead of her, and she followed the deep trenches left by his boots. Sure, he was making it easier for her to follow him, but damn. Couldn’t he slow down for just a second? She hadn’t caught her breath from running through the facility and now they were running again through snow up to her knees. The wind hadn’t let up either, and it bit harshly at even the smallest portion of uncovered skin. Logan seemed unaffected by the dropping temperature though, and he trudged forward, intent on heading through the thickening forest.
Rogue felt herself begin to shiver at the stinging, unrelenting force of the wind, tears forming in her eyes and feeling like they were turning into slivers of ice. She trusted Logan, but dammit it was cold, making it difficult for her to focus. She knew she was going to need to get warm, and quickly, if she was gonna get out of this mess with fingers and toes intact.
Remy must’ve felt the cold too, since he unwisely addressed Logan with an impatient tone in his voice. “You gotta plan in mind, homme?”
Logan didn’t turn back to growl, but Rogue heard his irritation rumble low and deep in his chest.
“We’ve got less than thirty minutes until the two of ya start suffering the effects of frostbite. It’s warmer south. So unless you’ve got a fuckin’ better idea…”
“But Logan,” Rogue couldn’t help but question him. South was a pretty damn big target when they weren’t prepared for the elements. “Where exactly are we gonna go? We’re in Siberia. The jet is gone. We have no way of contacting the team. Those assholes at the research facility are still back there. And we’re leaving them a track a mile wide to come after us!”
“Look, kid, I don’t know,” he barked back at her, his breath visible as it sharply cut through the air. “Why does it feel like I’m the only fuckin’ grown-up here? How bout you help me figure it out?!”
Rogue tried to bury her irritation at the way he addressed her as she continued after him. Why couldn’t Logan get it past that thick adamantium-covered skull of his that she was a grown woman entirely capable of taking care of herself? Sure. She’d gotten shot back there. But so had he. And she’d still managed to kill a hell of a lot of guards after that too. Her arm was still radiating in pain from the gunshot wound, but she hadn’t complained once. It seemed that no matter what happened, no matter how much time passed or how many missions she proved herself on, in his eyes nothing ever changed.
Suddenly, his whole posture shifted. Something about him tensed, and her whole body went rigid in response. The metallic slide of his claws, his feet suddenly planting deeply into the snow.
“Get ready,” he whispered sharply.
“Logan, wha-”
Then. She heard it. The buzzing and whining of several engines far off in the distance. The subtle whoosh and slice of snow being moved aside.
She saw Remy fumble in a pocket for some projectiles to charge, and she squared her shoulders as the three of them turned back the way they’d just come.
“Fuck,” she said as she shivered again. The temperature seemed to be dropping sharply with the setting sun, but she knew her shiver wasn’t entirely due to the cold alone.
“Snowmobiles headed our way. Three of ‘em,” Logan grumbled. He shot a look to Rogue, motioning to her with a tense jerk of his head.
“Rogue, get behind me,” Logan growled.
“Not a chance, Logan! Stop treatin’ me like I’m a child.”
“They’re likely armed, and you’re already bleedin’, kid. Stop bein’ stupid!”
Rogue rolled her eyes at him and turned toward Remy who was watching the exchange with a surprisingly passive look on his face. He smiled at her when she caught his eye and an idea came to her.
“Remy, can I touch you? Just for a second?” She sweetened her voice a little more than she might have normally, just to further piss off Logan. It worked. She heard a feral growl coming from his direction and he jerked his head at her, violence in his eyes. She ignored this tired display of overprotectiveness and smiled at Remy.
“You know you never need to ask, ma chère,” he said as he began to remove one of his gloves.
She stepped closer and took a deep breath. She knew she needed to brace herself. That much she had learned with difficulty over the years. When the connection opened up, when she willed it to happen, it always surprised her, overwhelming her with its intensity, even if she had been expecting it. This time, too, a flood of emotions filled every cell inside of her, leaving no room for her own thoughts or feelings.
Remy’s thoughts and memories threatened to overcome her the second she touched his hand, chilled with the sudden exposure to the frozen air. He was confident, so damn cocky and sure of himself. He - Jesus - he wanted her. Oh, fuck. Mistake. The thought echoed so loudly in her head, she wasn’t sure who had said it. His obvious attraction to her was swimming through her body, and she was suddenly, instantly, turned on by...herself. God, she could feel her body sinking into his attraction. She felt a surge of heat and warm wetness between her legs and shuddered as she saw herself through Remy’s eyes. She’d never really taken him seriously before, thinking he was just a damn flirt who wanted to get into her pants. But now, she wasn’t so sure.
The threads of his power blossomed beneath her skin, and she felt the energy practically crackling through her. Holy shit. Other mutant’s powers were amazing. She so rarely let herself touch anybody, even defensively, that she sometimes forgot how cheated she felt by her own mutation. Before his thoughts could overwhelm her, she swiftly broke the connection and shook her head, dizzy with the influx of power she’d just absorbed.
She was breathing hard, trying to come back to herself and ignore that slow, deep, pleasurable pulsing at her center and focus on what they had to do in order to survive. She noticed Logan starting at her, his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he raked his eyes over her body. He stared into her eyes for a moment and she wondered if they’d turned that same deep crimson as Remy’s.
“Fuck,” she thought he heard him utter as he turned back to the approaching sound. Rogue tore her glance over to where he was looking and finally saw them. Three small figures, growing larger and more threatening by the second. They began firing at a distance, and the sound of the quick shots tore through Rogue as she realized Logan had guessed right. Machine guns. That was it, big snowmobiles gaining quickly, two men on each machine, one firing at them wildly while the other closed the distance between where they stood and where they were coming from. The roar of the engines in her ears. More gunfire.
She wanted something, a weapon to wield. She knew Remy could charge objects which exploded on contact, but she didn’t have anything on her to let fly. “Here, chère!” Remy said, interpreting her frantic look correctly. He threw several spare playing cards at her, and she charged one up as she caught it, lobbing it directly at the nearest oncoming threat, sparks of pure energy flying behind it in the frozen wind.
The card exploded in front of one of the oncoming snowmobiles, ineffective and useless as its blast tossed nothing but snow into the air. Apparently her aim needed work.
“Damn,” she muttered, slightly ashamed of the miss.
“Don’ worry none about it, chère,” Remy said smoothly, one of his own cards scoring a direct hit on one of the men with machine guns and she ducked quickly as his last errant bullets flew wildly and without direction through the air towards them. “You’ll get the hang of it, especially if you keep touchin’ Remy for practice.”
The other snowmobiles kept their unwavering pace, the threat of men and bullets sliding closer with every second had them refocusing their attention quickly though. Logan bared his teeth, claws at the ready, and in mere seconds the bullets showered down on him, even as he wrenched his claws into the engine of a passing snowmobile. Violence seemed to explode from inside him - the animal rising up to protect them all, heedless and uncaring of the damage it took as it continued to rip and tear through man and machine.
The snowmobile careened sideways, smoking and obviously damaged beyond use, and Rogue couldn’t help the blooming frustration as she took in the ruined transport in front of her, blood and motor oil and gas hissing into the snow.
“Dammit, Logan! We needed all of those damn things!” She couldn’t help the pure frustration from coming through. “Make sure you don’t destroy the others so we can get the hell outta here!”
He snarled at her, and Rogue noticed the raw, feral look simmering in his eyes as he appraised her. The Wolverine stared back at her, chest heaving, his body tensed, blood and violence crawling beneath his skin. She could tell he wasn’t fully aware of who exactly she was for a minute because he sniffed at her and snarled again. She wasn’t sure why he’d growl after sniffing her now. Usually when Logan was shunted aside, a quick inhale would reassure the Wolverine of who she was and he’d relax. But this time her scent seemed to piss him off even more. But then he shook his head, his eyes cleared, and she saw that Logan had regained control and realized who she was and where they were. “How many left?!” he barked at her.
The remaining two vehicles abruptly changed course and zoomed to doubleback after seeing what an up close confrontation with Wolverine could result in.
“Two men driving!” she shouted as they began to circle back, this time separating into a left and right flank instead of a tightly packed group. More targets to hit, she thought angrily. They were splitting themselves up so they’d have a better chance at taking them down. Screw that, she thought as she took in their new strategy.
This time, she wasn’t going to miss. She summoned up her borrowed energy and forced it into another of Remy’s cards, intent on taking out the team on the left. She waited another second. Then two. She needed them to get just a little bit closer for her to feel confident in her aim. Yes, she thought as she measured the distance between her and the oncoming threat. She took a deep breath and let the card fly. It flew straight through the air and made a direct hit with the second snowmobile, causing both guards riding it to hurtle off into the deep snow. The snowmobile zoomed forward and into the trunk of a large pine tree, where it’s engine was suddenly cut off.
“FUCK!”
She jumped at the roar directly behind her and whipped around to face Logan. “What?!” She screamed back at him, completely unafraid of the rage he was emanating.
“You kiddin’ me?” He snarled, whirling back to face her, one hand pointed toward the crashed snowmobile. “You just yelled at me for destroyin’ one of those things and then you go and do the same damn thing and I don’t get to be pissed at you?”
Meanwhile, off to their right, another explosion sounded. Gambit expertly took aim and made a direct hit with one of his cards causing both the driver and gunman from the third snowmobile to go soaring through the air. A shower of red followed, and Rogue could do nothing but tear her gaze away from the sight of their lifeless bodies now staining the snow. Driverless, the snowmobile had careened and veered sharply into a large snowdrift, its engine idling loudly in the suddenly still air.
A quiet, gargled sound of pain echoed across a drift, and Logan jerked toward the source of the noise. One of the guards from the overturned second snowmobile was limping away from them,clearly intending to set off on foot. Before Rogue or Remy could make a move though, Logan had quickly stalked over to the limping man. A low snarl, a flash of metal, and the man fell into the snow once more. Dead.
Logan turned to Rogue, a fresh spatter of blood speckling his uniform. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood and engine oil spreading through the icy air. Rogue allowed herself a moment to appreciate his physique. Even beneath the leather, she could make out the bulge of muscle. He met her eyes for a brief moment and she realized she’d been staring at him for too long. She broke away as the chill of a fresh stirring of frozen air met the bare skin of her face. Shivering. She tried to focus on what was next, but the cold and her throbbing arm was making it difficult to think clearly. She was getting tired too, the adrenaline from fleeing the facility and the fight in the snow had left her drained.
Remy cleared his throat pointedly. “Hey chère,” his voice was quiet. Gentle, as if he’d been interrupting something. “You think maybe we should take their coats? It’s only gonna get colder.”
Logan grudgingly turned to Gambit in a silent acknowledgement of the point he was making. They needed provisions, coats and gloves, or Logan would be the only one making it out alive. Rogue turned to stare at the nearest lifeless body, and she felt the chill pass through her, biting her lip. She was suddenly cognizant of the warmth of her breath as it hit the frigid air, the snow beginning to fall softly around them, as an eerie feeling descended on her. The sounds were gone, the air...still. They might as well have been standing in freshly turned graves.
Logan seemed to notice her hesitation, because then she felt the steady grip of his hand on her shoulder. He shook her a little, forcing her to look at him. “Just put on the fuckin’ coat, Rogue. He’s dead. Yer not, unless you wanna be, that is.” He shoved her away from him and strode over to the closest snowmobile and began to rummage through its compartments for supplies.
Rogue shuddered both with cold and the realization that she’d just killed several people. Being an X-Men for ten years, she was certainly no stranger to violence. Or danger, for that matter. But she’d still rarely ever had to take a human life. It didn’t sit well with her, even as she understood that it was either them or her.
Slowly, she stumbled in the snow over to one of the dead men. Blood stained the snow around him, burns and claw marks the evidence of how he’d met his end, white feathers peeking out through tears in the fabric of his coat. She extended one shaking hand to unzip the bloody parka, that still housed his remaining body heat and was stopped cold by Logan’s hand gripping her wrist.
She looked up at him, confused. Hadn’t he just told her to get a damn coat?
When he spoke, it was in a harsh sounding growl. “No. Not that one.” He held out an unbloodied coat to her in his other hand, and she was suddenly shaken by that small gesture. While she was unsure whether it was due to the fact that the blood on the coat she’d chosen was wet and wouldn’t keep in her body heat as efficiently, or because he just didn’t want to see anymore blood on her, she didn’t know. But she appreciated his action regardless and reached out to take it from him.
“Here,” Logan muttered, handing her a bundle of other items. “Yer gonna need this stuff too.”
He dumped the remaining contents into her outstretched hand and Rogue sighed with relief as she put on the stocking cap, gloves, and goggles. She wasn’t warm yet, but the extra clothes went a long way in slowing the leaching of her body heat.
Meanwhile, Remy was rifling through the leftover gear, having found his own warmer clothes to pilfer, and was coming back over to them with two bags.
“What do we got, Cajun?” Logan grumbled as he shrugged into another parka.
Remy was stomping through the snow toward them as he answered. “Two bags, two canteens of water, a flare gun.”
“And only one snowmobile?” Rogue muttered. They all turned back to look at the third idling snowmobile for a moment, and Rogue’s frown deepened. That was one ride she did not want to take. Crammed between Logan and Remy as they hurtled through the freezing air trying to find a way back to Westchester...
How the hell is that thing going to hold the three of us plus Logan’s stupid adamantium skeleton? She thought to herself.
“The second one is salvageable,” Remy responded.
“Good. You take that one,” Logan grumbled to Remy, setting his sight back on the third snowmobile still idling in the snow drift. “Kid, yer comin’ with me.”
Rogue clenched her jaw and whipped around to face Logan. “Why? Why can’t I go with Remy?”
“‘Cause yer bleedin’, internal temperature likely droppin’ a bit too. I’m,” he hesitated and his eyes flicked over Remy momentarily, “Taller. Got more body heat to share.”
“You go on with Wolverine, chère. We can cuddle up later tonight if all goes well.” And with that, Remy winked at her and strode over to the second snowmobile.
Rogue sighed as she strode over to where Logan had straddled the snowmobile.
“Do you want me in the front or the back?” She asked him as she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. The cold was making her insides feel shaky and loose and she just wanted to get warm.
Logan jerked his head up at her, one eyebrow raised nearly to his hairline. He looked her over for a minute as he considered what she meant. “Back. That way I’ll take the brunt of the wind as we’re movin’.”
She nodded and crawled up behind him, her legs plastered themselves against his longer ones, and sighed in relief as she started to relax her body against him.
“Put yer arms around me, kid. Yer gonna needta hold on tight,” he rumbled.
Hesitating, she felt an awkward awareness run through her as she snaked her arms underneath his and let them hover in the air a moment before allowing them to rest on his coat. He grunted once and grabbed her arms tighter against him.
“Yer freezin’, kid. Now’s not the time to be shy.”
She nodded in response and exhaled with the relief. He was right. He was warm. She instinctively rested her head up against broad planes of his back before her grip around his torso tightened. Meanwhile, the snowmobile was already roaring to new life as Logan backed it out of the snow, taking the lead to leave the sullied, bloody scene behind them.
Rogue wasn’t sure how long they rode. Night fell swiftly, time stretching out before them in the dark. The moon shone brightly against the white blanket of snow in front of them and the whine and purr of the engines began to lull Rogue into a sort of hypnotized state. She held herself closer to Logan as exhaustion overtook her. The roar of the engine was in her ears, the night was black and she felt herself drift, her consciousness fading in and out, as time ceased to exist.
The slow movements of Logan’s body caused her to stir and she noticed he was gradually slowing the snowmobile.
“Here’ll do,” Logan muttered as he cut the engine. Rogue peeked out from behind the warmth of his back to see a small cement structure in front of them. It looked abandoned; it had four walls and a door, and looked like it was a relic left over from the Cold War, maybe World War II.
“What is it?” Rogue’s voice was rough with disuse. She had no idea how much time had passed since they’d left the facility. Nights this far north this time of year could last far longer than the days.
“Dunno. Some kind of holding center, maybe.” He sniffed the air quickly. “Shit’s abandoned though. We gotta take some shelter soon. The temperature’s droppin’ too fast and there’s a snowstorm comin’. Needta be inside when it hits and this is the best we got.”
Rogue heard the whine of Gambit’s engine as he caught up and pulled up beside them. He killed his own engine and dismounted, whistling as he took in the structure in front of them.
“Looks like home sweet home, eh?” he said as he walked up to the door. It was heavily dented and rusted, but didn’t appear to be locked as he tried to turn the knob. Remy frowned. The knob was turning, but the door was stuck in the frame. A couple of hits with his shoulder later, he turned to Logan with a suave gesture. “Care to do the honors, homme?”
Rogue loosened her grip on Logan’s coat to allow him to dismount. Her muscles were stiff after the events of the day and she rolled her neck trying to loosen some of the tension. She was still exhausted, and she was going to need to have someone patch up her arm before too much longer.
Logan strode over to the door, grasped the handle, and with a smooth jerk of his arm, had wrenched the dented door loose of its frame with a harsh metallic scraping noise.
“Yer dead on yer feet, kid. Head inside and Gumbo and I will take care of the rides.”
She was too tired to argue and ignoring the protests of her muscles headed into the building. Rogue simply blinked as she took in what was in front of her. It was a dump. The place had already been ransacked, stripped of supplies long ago. Trash littered the ground. A metal desk, drawers hanging open, was shoved up against the nearest wall. And leaning against the far wall was a single stained twin mattress.
The shuffling of footsteps behind her had Rogue turning to face Logan and Remy. She saw their identical looks as they took in the space they’d be spending the night in, their eyes coming to rest on the single mattress.
All three pairs of eyes met, but it was Logan that spoke.
“Well, fuck.”