The music was pumping out of the tiered cabs, the beat throwing every living body into spasm, the relentless pounding making his nerves painful, drinking more than he should just to keep everything dulled down and bearable.
A flash of auburn caught his eye; the bright light making it shine in the darkness for a second ripping open the memory he'd been trying to avoid.
Standing by the open pit, frost picking out the pebbles in the soil piled by the side of the yawning gap. Knowing they all blamed him for it, they said nothing to him but it was everywhere and in everything they did, even her loud mouth yellow coated friend had avoided him.
The mansion was no longer home and he'd left the day after, the imagined taunts and anger ringing through his mind, he hadn't said goodbye to her, just left the next morning before the sun had even risen.
Looking back on it now he wished he'd been brave enough to talk to her instead of running away, to give some warmth back to her brown eyes instead of letting the cold of indifference fill her gaze.
Standing here in the club, he tried to clear his head, keeping an eye out for trouble didn't mix with memories especially those that still festered like open wounds. Shrugging his shoulders Logan made his way round the club interior, the sound of blastbeat thrumming through his
skeleton making it reverberate with the pulse of the life all around him. For once he wished he could just fade away, be left alone to die somewhere in the dark but no, there was always someone who wanted his `talents', he gave up being a hero when Jean died.
His tour came up with two idiots, one of them packing a long knife, almost a sword if truth be known, the other a thin weighted wire. He surprised them as they were hunting through the crowd, casually stepping on the leaders foot and grinding down with all his weight.
The wire man tried to get his loop over his head but ended up tying his own hands as Logan moved faster, pulling the wire tight enough to cut the skin. A quick punch and the man was down in the crowd. His partner smiled as he plunged the long knife into Logan's thigh, the blade being removed slowly his little bright eyes showing a kind of intelligence, one he'd seen reflected in yellow eyes years ago. Snarling Logan punched the man in the stomach; listened to the whoosh of air and heard the ribs break either side of his fist. It took control to keep his blades sheathed but he did, smashing the guy
upside the head instead and waving to the security camera in the ceiling. Two minutes later they were both outside and the police were on their way; he was left with a torn trouser leg and blood everywhere. The work wasn't so bad, but it was hell on his wardrobe, what little he had, waving to the club owner Logan signalled he'd be upstairs. Nodding the owner turned back to the huge dancefloor, eyes scanning for trouble as the human tide ebbed and flowed around the club.
The rooms were small but they were free, no one else wanted to stay here and to be honest he really didn't care anymore. It was somewhere to sleep that's all it was, he'd stopped living years ago, about the same time he realised he'd killed Marie the same time they'd killed
Jean.
He'd found her a year later, she was in Central Park her hair was dyed a deep brown but he remembered her scent, a mix of vanilla and that special scent that was all her. He'd watched her for an hour, hidden by trees but he'd caught her conversation on the small black phone she'd had, watched as her face had become resigned as she'd
closed the phone. Throwing her head back to look at the sky and the tears that had fallen from her eyes, he'd moved then, gone toward her to try and ease the pain he could feel from her. She heard the movement and looked his way; he remembered her every expression as she realised who she was looking at. The way it had changed from resigned to peaceful to angry then to indifferent, she didn't speak or even look at him, she just got up and walked away. He'd run after her, wanted to talk to her but she wasn't in the mood, she'd hopped a bus and the look she gave him out of the window was enough to stop
his heart for a second. The venom in it had been enough to kill him, even the person next to him commented on it, `Looks like you've made an enemy of that one.' The words hadn't bothered him at the time, the next time he'd seen her it had made perfect sense, he had made an enemy of her and he knew now how dangerous that could be.
He changed the torn trousers for jeans and collapsed on the bed, running his hands through his hair wondering how things had gotten this bad so fast, had he really been such an idiot? The voice within said `Yeah, you just thought about yourself, as usual', annoyed at the lack of things to expend his aggression on he threw on his winter
coat. The snow outside wasn't that deep but he could still feel the cold and having metal bones didn't help either. Clumping down the back stairs, he passed the huge doorman, a mutant who's ability came in handy when fighting. Whatever someone used on him he returned with extra, nodding to him Logan went out into the night of New York. Looking at the sky loaded with snow and the
flurries that showed him where the wind was moving, his feet knew where he was heading so his mind was free to remember.
It wasn't until five years later that the X-Men caught up with him, Scott hadn't changed but Storm looked like she'd been put through the wringer. The were asking him if he'd seen Rogue, had she contacted him, been near him? He'd just ignored them, let them ask their questions and had just been silent, that was until they told him why
they were there. Rogue had killed a teammate, she'd gutted them without a second thought, they'd been fighting a group of underground mutants and she'd lost control, she'd gone berserk, babbling about everyone being her enemy, that she couldn't trust anyone. She'd run
off into the sewers and they were trying to find her but it was difficult with so many personalities in her head. The words had fallen from Scott's lips as if it had been a natural thing but he'd grabbed him then and forced him up against the wall of the cheap motel he'd been in.
Scott had told him then, she had at least twenty different people in her head, all of them trying to get a piece of her, a shot at being in control. No one had known until it had been too late, even Charles had been fooled by her shows of control. She'd fractured under stress and there was no way to find her, so they'd come to him, they knew he could find her even in a city as large as New York he could and would find her.
The lights changed and he crossed without looking, his feet knowing the way after all these years, the sounds of the city dwindling as he walked out of the main city into the green suburbs. He could have taken the train but he liked the walk, thinking she would like the scenery as it changed over the seasons, trains held too many bad
memories for them both for him ever to be comfortable on one. He chuckled as he remembered the train, her asking him if he promised to look after her, he'd answered with a promise that was as useless as he'd been when he'd found her two years after Scott and Storms visit. Squinting at the icy blast that stung his face as he crossed the final road to his destination, the gates hanging open and graffiti covering the stone pillars. A shadow of his former self, hunched against the cold that was eating him from the inside, the weather's harshness nothing compared to the storm that was raging inside his
chest. Walking through the winter wonderland all around him Logan allowed himself to remember her one clear look she'd given to him, the one that had told him she was so happy to see him. The one that had broken through the haze of her fractured soul to reach his own, for a moment she was Marie again, a lost scared and lonely Marie, her
eyes clear of anything but hope. Hope that he was there to save her from herself, to help her find some peace, the way her hand had trembled toward his own as if she didn't really know if he was real or not.
She'd been living rough, her hair was short, clothes wrapped her entirely from her fingers to her feet, there was nothing uncovered on her. Even her face had a sheen of oil and dirt on it, a protection of sorts against a random touch from an animal while she slept behind the dumpsters she called `home'. He'd carried her a block until she'd fought to get out of his arms; her mouth had screamed obscenities at him as he recognised the voice and tone, Mystique. She'd touched Mystique, shocked he'd dropped her and backed away, the words coming from her mouth were filled with hate and bitterness. Telling him how much she'd suffered when he'd left without a word, that she'd cried for months, but in the end had thrown herself into fighting with the X-Men. The effort of listening to her pour out the personality of Mystique almost crippled him when he realised Marie had killed her,
she'd touched her holding on to save the rest of the team. Filling her mind with the poisonous mind of her enemy, knowing it was her voice that had started the damage inside her. The personality switched quickly to someone else he didn't recognise, it was then he realised what he had to do.
The home was private, the bills were high at first but he had the money, he didn't tell anyone he'd found her. He just paid for her to stay there, to be at peace in one place she could be, a place where no one could get at her. He'd told them about her skin, what it meant and why they couldn't touch her without gloves, they'd been quiet and supportive and had done as he'd asked. Looking at the rusted chain that held the doors together Logan went round the back as the false dawn showed itself, the light being reflected on the crisp snow. The shallow mounds he was heading for weren't going anywhere, he took his
time getting over to them another memory bubbling up from the back of his mind.
She'd liked the trees here, sitting under them for hours in her chair reading a book or trying to in her drugged state. They kept her doped most of the time, it had been the only way to keep the darker half of her personalities at bay, including his own. She was lucid most days, the one he liked most of all was her fortieth birthday, she'd been more herself the longer she stayed there. As if the minds that weren't hers were fading away, but the drugs had damaged what she had left, her mind had settled at seventeen. The memories there weren't too painful for her, she'd remembered him and the smile she'd shown him had warmed him through. He'd just come back from another gun running trip, he had to finance her home somehow and he was earning enough to make sure she had everything she'd ever need. The warmth in her gaze had been worth the pain of seeing her, but what she'd said next had crushed him, `Do you ever think you'll love me like you love Jean?'. He'd kept it together until later, the pain of her words hitting home and brought everything into focus for him then. He hadn't cared enough, he'd followed his dick instead of his heart only when he'd seen her in pain had he realised what a mistake he'd made what damage he'd caused.
The low mounds were covered with snow but he took his hands out of his pockets and cleared the snow around one low mound, the small granite surface showing itself to the lightening sky. The etched surface bearing a single name, his reddened fingers tracing the stones face, every stroke of the mason's hammer lodged inside him as scars. His lips forming one word, `Beloved.' His eyes reading Marie's name wishing he could erase them with his own pain, he'd been there when she'd died, called from halfway round the world by a feeling something was wrong. In Japan of all places and he'd called here, nervous and tetchy he'd been answered by the sister. Marie had tried
to take her own life, a knife had been missing and she'd been found under the tree her arms open from wrist to elbow. He'd been on the next plane home, the deal he'd been making was lost, there was no point if she wasn't alive to profit from it.
He'd come back to see her drained and near deaths door, her hair was salted with silver now but her eyes were still bright. She was strapped down but her eyes were clear for the first time in years, she was home in her own head. They'd cried as he'd held her thin frame to him, the muscle of her body long gone her will fading with
it. She'd whispered his name and it had meant everything to him, `Logan, please.' He knew what she was asking, what she wanted he could smell it all over her, she wanted to die, if not by her own hand then by his. He'd torn himself away from her then and her whisper had reached him even as he turned away, `If it was you here
I'd do it, Logan I love you. Please.' Her voice was hers, the words hers and as he looked at her he knew when he left he'd have to disappear for a few years, murder was still a capital crime. He held her close to him, bringing her into his warmth, his strength as he felt her breathe out he held her tighter. Crushing her lungs, smothering her with his weight, yet her hands didn't move from his
back as he felt her struggle to breathe knowing it was her body trying to fight even when her mind was sure. It didn't take long and he laid her back down wrapping her up in the bed and kissing her for the first and last time. Tears fell and he knew whatever life he had
now would be nothing worthwhile, the one thing he'd had he'd lost years ago. He'd walked out of there telling them she was asleep, he'd wired money to them and instructions for her burial. He'd taken off to the north, gotten lost in the mountains of Canada for a while, twenty years of a while.
The world had changed but it was still the same to him, looking at the stone once more before raising his head to the bare winter branches above his head. Listening to the rustle of leaves in summer and the laugh of her voice, he always came here when life became too much. As if he could reach out and grab hold of her spirit, hoping she could take him with her, make him let go and be free. The bitter wind salted his hair with snow in the pink light of dawn, the etched letters shining with warmth as the light hit the gold. His voice cracked as the words left his throat, `I miss you, more than you'll ever know. I'm sorry I wasn't there Marie, I'm sorry for not being
enough of a man to come home when you needed me.'
He always
apologised every time he came here, he knew she couldn't hear him but it eased the pain inside him a little. Straightening up he wiped the snow from his hands, looking at the old grounds of the house and wondering if he should take up the lease. He owned it so he might as
well use it, it'd give him somewhere to be and he'd be close to her. Smiling at last he went back round the house, the day brightening with each step he took. He might not find everything he wanted here but at least he'd have company when he finally died, it was something
he could look forward to. Walking back into the city wrapped up in the cold around him, no longer fighting the cold inside his own heart, she'd asked him for help and he'd given it. He'd loved her enough to let her go and that's all he could ever have asked for.
VNV – Nation /Beloved
It's colder than before
The seasons took all they had come for
Now winter dances here
It seems so fitting don't you think?
Dress the ground in white
And grey
It's so quiet I can hear
My thoughts touching every second I spent
Waiting for you
Circumstances affords me
No second chance
To tell you
How much I've missed you
My beloved do you know
When the warm wind comes again
Another year will start to pass
And please don't ask me why I'm here
Something deeper brought me
That I need to remember
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This came from VNV Nation's 'Beloved', something that always makes me cry and it seemed so perfect for a bittersweet fic, hope you enjoy it.