Shivering madly in the dark
Like an animal abandoned in the car park
And she held me and then she showed me
The beauty of the human heart.
"Hidden Sun" by Barenaked Ladies
I thought it would feel a lot better being on my own again. Alone is my natural state. I don't need anybody. That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. I go to a different town and a different bar every night and I fight and I maim and I drink enough to make any normal man pass out a few times over and none of it means a damn thing.
The whole time I'm tearing up whatever loser is dumb enough to get in my way, I'm thinking about that time I didn't, that time when some little girl with big brown eyes that made her look like a deer caught in the headlights convinced me without a word to let a punk brawler and some ignorant old barkeep live just a little while longer, to walk away. I'm Wolverine. I don't walk away from fights. But I did for her, because I didn't want some innocent little kid seeing what I do to people.
Problem is, I did it to her too. Maybe I never meant to, but I did it. I don't just mean shoving my claws through her chest, either, even thought I can still see the shock on her face when I close my eyes, feel the gentle pressure of those deadly fingers on my cheek. I mean the way I left. She had some damn kind of crush on me and it scared me. The hero worship in her eyes when she looked at me scared me too. I didn't deserve any of it, not from a nice girl like Marie.
It was easier to leer at Jean. She's all grown up. She can take care of herself. Besides, with her I can't care too much because I can't get close enough. She's with Scott and she always will be unless something happens to one of them. They love each other, and that isn't going to change. But flirting with Jean was easy.
Now here I am driving down the road in the middle of nowhere thinking about the kid. Well, not in the middle of nowhere, either. For the past five years, I've been traveling in a slowly shrinking circle that's taking me straight back to Westchester if I don't do something about it. I should stop and really think about this, but I've spent five years trying not to think, and making my brain do much more than react is more effort than I'm up to.
I'm not sure how I can go back after five years. I can't even begin to think what might have changed. Hell, maybe Scott's got a personality now. Maybe Jean'll be ready to throw herself into my arms and ride off into the sunset. Maybe Marie won't be a kid anymore.
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