I can feel them sliding under the skin of my hands, and I'm scared.
Working with Charlie and the rest, I've come to learn a lot of new things. And unlearn a lot of old things.
One of the things I learned, the main thing is: We're a team. Whatever you do, you don't jeopardize the team.
Let me translate that into my language for you: You now have five new weak spots, Logan.
And that bitch Mystique has her arm around the throat of my biggest weak spot yet.
I can feel my claws aching to spring forth and I'm scared. Because now I don't know if that's the right move. And the wrong move will get Marie killed.
And if she dies, I won't be human anymore.
"No, goddamnit!" I yell. She flinches, hurt, and my heart aches a little. Not too much, though, because she's being fuckin' stupid.
"Where are my weak points?" I snarl.
Marie gives me her 'ain't I cute' look, and a little smile. "You don't have any, Logan," she reminds me in that accent of hers.
"Don't be cute," I snap back. "We're pretending I'm not me, I'm just a guy, right? So where're my weak points?"
She sighs. "The throat, the solar plexus, the knees," she intones, a bored litany. My temper goes up a notch. I'm trying to keep her alive and she's acting like it's a pain in her ass.
"And?" I prompt.
"Logan..."
"And?!"
"The crotch."
"Right. You had a decent shot at three of those points. Where did you hit me?"
"Your chest."
"Which does...?"
"'Precisely dick." We say it together. She starts to laugh.
"This isn't funny, kid. You don't learn this, you're gonna die."
Her laughter fades away. "I know," she says.
"No you fuckin' don't. Lemme show you."
A little trick I learned...shit, I don't remember when or where. I do a shoulder roll into a footsweep, then I'm up. There's a "snikt" and metal claws touch her throat, right at her carotid.
"I'm a nice guy, now," I remind her. "Sabretooth isn't. He can do this and worse. So you fuck around with him and it'll be permanent lights out forever. You got it?"
She nods, just the tiniest bit, the points of my claws dimpling her skin where it throbs with her pulse. I can smell her fear now and I feel slightly ashamed. But not too much.
I withdraw my claws and hold out my hand. "Up."
She spurns my hand to get up on her own. Good. "Again," I say.
"I'm tired."
"I don't give a shit. Again."
And so it goes...
"Back off!" Mystique barks, her arm tightening around Marie's neck. She's good, I'll give her that; she's careful not to touch Marie's bare skin. The blue cunt has a towel wrapped around her arm.
Cyc is off to my right, hands held away from his body. Mystique's eyes are darting all over the place, keeping watch over all of us, looking for telltales. If Scott reaches for his visor, if Storm's eyes go white, if I tense even the tiniest bit...
Rogue squirms and Mystique knees her in the kidney. "Shut up, brat," she hisses. Rogue tries to glare over her shoulder, but she's held too tight. My heart's racing, blood pounding in my ears. It's only when Scott whispers "Logan, stop it. Relax." that I realize I'm growling.
"Where's the other one?" Mystique asks. "The redhead."
"Jean, come out," Scott says calmly.
Jean steps out of the shadows, slightly behind and to Mystique's right. "I feel anything funny, any evidence of teke and I'll kill her. Get with the others." Jean steps over to stand by Scott, her face hard.
"Now...let's see about getting me out of here," Mystique says. Her voice is silky smooth.
I can't help it, I guess. I find myself drawn to her. I find myself in the same room as her, and I know it's not coincidental. Not all the time.
I'm aware of her scent everywhere I go in this mansion. I find that I'm following it like a lovelorn hound dog, scenting the air and tracking her to the T.V. room.
"What'cha watching?" I ask, settling in the recliner. I got a brew in my hand, the rest of the six-pack dangling from its plastic holder in the other.
"Dirty Dozen," she replies, giving me a sidelong look. Damn, she's beautiful.
But she's someone else's. Damn Scott anyway.
"Wanna beer?" I offer.
"Sure." She undoes one from the holder from across the room and floats it over to herself.
"Showoff."
She smiles and drinks.
Scott comes in with a big bowl of popcorn. "Logan," he says, his tone neutral.
What the hell. "Beer?" I offer, holding 'em up to him. He gives me an odd look, but accepts.
They watch the movie. I pretend to, but I'm watchin' her. And him. Together.
Damn it.
*There may be a way*, a voice rings in my head. Charlie, that bald fucker. He's got a plan. He's always got a plan.
He lays it out for us. It's half-assed and I say so. Scott, through the Prof, asks me if I've got a better one.
*None that probably won't get Rogue killed*, I say. Rogue, call her Rogue. Not Marie. Not right now.
"What kind of a name is Wolverine?"
Beats hell out of me, I gotta admit. It's just what was on my dogtags. But they didn't call me that. They called me
"Logan."
She gives a shy smile. "Marie," she says.
I don't know why I let her in the truck. I've been a loner all my life. I've killed cuter'n her.
We make small talk. I give her some beef jerky. She nags me about my seatbelt.
Then a tree lands in the road and things get blurry. Big guy, looks familiar somehow. He hits me with a tree.
Just before I black out I can only think "Gotta save Marie."
Which surprises the hell out of me.
Rogue's eating in the cafeteria. She's sitting with that ice kid, Bobby something. He's smiling, admiring her white streak. She's a tough kid. It's only been a couple weeks since Magneto tried to kill her, tried to kill us all. But she's smilin' and flirting...
I sit down across the room with my sandwich. I smell her coming a mile away and don't look up as she sits across from me.
"Jean," I greet her.
"Logan. Your girl seems to be recuperating nicely."
"My girl?" I stare at her, confused. She gives a toss of her head Rogue's direction. "Oh, yeah. Well...she's not exactly my girl."
"Could've fooled me, the way she looks at you."
"Hunh?" I'm really confused now. Or maybe I'm just denying it.
"C'mon, Logan. She's got such a crush on you..."
I glance over at Rogue. Bobby's still chattering away at her, but she's not paying attention. She's glaring daggers at Jean.
"Oh, man." How did I not see this? I don't feel that way about her, she's like...my sister, or...
...or daughter.
Oh god. I feel paternal. Oh god.
"I guess I should...I dunno...talk to her or something."
"Probably," Jean says. "Be gentle, though."
Gentle? I'm Wolverine.
I'm fucked.
I'm hoping Mystique doesn't hear it. I do. The slow gentle click-click of Scott's visor adjusting focus.
Jean's doing it, naturally. Telekinesis is handy. Then she'll press that little button on the side that opens it up and lets loose Cyc's blast.
I'm doing breathing exercises, remaining calm. I've gotta be ready.
I look at Marie. She's looking scared, but ready.
Remember the weak spots, kid, I think. Remember the weak spots.
"I'm sorry, Marie."
She's crying and that just tears me up. Better now, though, than later.
I blink and look out at the trees. Charlie's mansion has a great backyard. The chains of the porch swing creak a bit as we sit there.
"It's Jean, isn't it? You love her," she sobs.
"No, kid..."
"Don't call me kid!"
I take a deep breath. "Okay. Marie..."
"Rogue."
"Marie."
She glares at me through her tears. I'm not backing down, though. She can push me away a little...hell, she has to...but I'll be damned if I'm letting her wall herself away completely.
What the hell am I thinking?
Her eyes drop. I've won this one.
"Marie, I don't love Jean...I don't know her well enough and she's got that dickhead Scott. But that's beside the point. You're too young, Marie. You don't know what you want yet. Shit, I'm way older than you are and I don't know what I want. I just...don't feel that way about you, okay?"
"How do you feel about me?"
Wow. No easy questions from this kid.
"I don't know, you're...special to me. Look..." I blow out a sigh, exasperated. I spent years not saying more than "Gimme a whiskey" and "When's the next fight?" Now all of a sudden I'm supposed to talk about my feelings? Shit.
I pull out a cigar and light it. It's a trick...I'm stalling. I take a big puff and let it out, watching the wind tear it to pieces.
"I spent most of the time I remember alone." I realize it's me talking. I don't know where it comes from.
"I don't like people. Ya can't trust a damn single one of 'em. They always want something...money or time or...or love...Anyway, more than I wanted to give.
"I met you and...I don't know why, but...I wanted to give you stuff. Whatever you wanted. I wanted to protect you and help you and let you in. To me.
"I think it's 'cause you reminded me of myself. I saw how alone and scared and hurt you were, and I realized that I felt that way, too. And I didn't want anybody to feel that way. I didn't want to feel that way, anymore.
"Marie, you're my best friend. You're my partner in a lot of ways. You will always be special to me. I love you."
What the fuck?
"But I can't be your lover. I just can't. Because it's not that kind of love."
She's stopped crying, though she hasn't wiped her face off. "What kind of love is it?"
"It's...I don't know how to describe it. Kind of like a father, kind of like a big brother. Call it...friendship. That's the only word I can think of."
I take another puff off my smoke and stare out at the treeline. "I'm sorry if that's not good enough."
I feel her arms go around my waist and she lays her head on my chest. "It's good enough, Logan. It's good enough."
*Now.*
Charlie's voice sings through my head. I hear a click, and a thin beam of red light streaks from Cyc to Mystique's arm. She cries out and jerks her arm a bit, loosening her grip just a tad.
Weak spots, kid, I plead mentally. Weak spots.
Rogue does it just right. An elbow to the solar plexus, a kick back right to the knee. Then a twist and a mincing step away and she's clear.
Mystique is doubled over and falling. She can't breathe and her leg's sticking at a funny angle.
I don't care. I feel a sharp pain above my knuckles and I'm in the air.
I gotta give it to the blue bitch. She manages, despite the pain it's gotta cause, to pivot on that bad knee and kick me in the gut. I slash down and take her foot off at the ankle.
She's screaming bloody murder now and that sounds like a fine idea to me. Bloody murder, that is. I backflip to land on my feet and spring forward again, claws reaching for her soft belly. I'm gonna gut her, skin her, hang her like fresh killed deer...
I'm frozen in mid-air. Jean.
Mystique's already out for the count. Scott's taking off his belt, wrapping it tight around her thigh, saving her from blood loss.
*You okay?* Jean asks me, telepathically.
I nod. She sets me down. I sheathe my claws.
Rogue is standing next to Jean, looking slightly shaken but okay. I walk over. "You all right, kid?"
Shit. I forgot. Not supposed to call her 'kid'.
She doesn't say anything, though, just looks up at me and gives a little nod. Her lip is trembling a bit. She's trying not to show how scared she was.
"Hey..." I say. "You did great."
"I did?" Her voice is small, like a little girl's. She's not that far past being a little girl.
"Perfect." I give her a smile.
She smiles back and gives me a hug, a careful hug. I give Jean a weak smile over Marie's head.
"Weak spots?" Jean whispers. She was listening in, I guess.
I look down at the girl...soon to be a woman, I guess...wrapped around my waist. "Yeah," I say. "Weak spots."
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