It took two days to fully fix the camper, the fuel leak had been much more of a problem than either of them had realised. It would take a long night and an early morning to fix. He’d been woken by Damask earlier that morning, she’d been stroking his chest with her fingers. Her face concentrating and working something out, it was only when he’d fully woken up that he realised that he’d slept without dreaming. He replayed the conversation that had changed things between them as he finished the last connection to the new fuel tank.
“Do you love her?”
“Who, Jean?” He’d been about to answer her when she’d interrupted him.
“No, Marie.” She had heard him.
“Who is she?” His body betrayed him and she caught it, “I didn’t mean to upset you,” the scent from him was sour and harsh. Clearing his throat he spoke.
“Marie is a young woman like you, I found her,” he paused and rethought his answer. “Well she found me at Laughlin City, I was just passing through; travelling as I had done for years. She hid in my trailer and almost froze to death doing it.” As he spoke about her his scent changed to warm musk and he could feel Damask responding to it. Her fingers were gently stroking him, lighting up trails across his flesh, bringing the animal to the surface. He looked at her flushed skin and read her need there in its colour. Her eyes lifted and pierced him with their strange beauty. “You want her don’t you?” Her scent filled his world, fogging his mind, filling him with desire and need. Fighting for his mind he spoke.
“Yeah, I suppose I do but I can’t. She can’t be touched by anyone, her skin takes the life from you. No-one can touch her, not even me.”
He remembered the Statue Of Liberty, of holding her in his arms, feeling her body against his, wishing for all he was worth that she was still alive That he’d see her smile again, to hear her laugh and to brush away the tears she’d shed. If that was love then yes, he loved her.
Loved her since that night she’d found him, he’d felt her eyes on him in the cage, smelled her desire for him as she’d watched him sit down next to her. Felt her breath as he’d passed her when he’d left after almost killing his earlier opponent. The scent of her had haunted him all that day and he’d wondered why, until he’d found her, huddled and shivering in the back of his trailer. Part of him had soared with joy when he’d seen her but he’d wanted to be alone, to be the same unchanging animal he’d been for over 15 years. She’d changed all that, gotten him involved with the Professor, Jean and the school, even Cyc. Remembering the dream that had caused his first touch of her, the hurt and suffering he’d endured, the searing pain and the release into the animal he had become, Wolverine.
Seeing her on his claws, the pain and hurt that was echoed there in her eyes, she’d seen the dream. It lay between them like a wall, until he could face that pain he could never get through to her, to listen to what she saw and understand why she’d been there in his room in the first place. Why had she been there? His room was far enough away for her not to hear him dream, so why?
Could she still hear him as he could her? After Jean’s death she had been around him a lot of the time, until Bobby had spoken to her about it and had diverted her attention. But he could still feel her near him, could still feel her thoughts when he concentrated hard enough.
When he’d left he hadn’t said goodbye, they all knew he needed to be alone sometimes and he came back usually after a few days. But this time he’d seen Marie watch him leave, as if she knew he might not be coming back. As if she wanted a memory of him, and he of her before things changed. Her hand had been at her throat fingering the dog tag there, burning everything into her memory, his scent, his eyes, his body, his heart. He couldn’t lie to Damask, he loved her and that was the one thing that still caused him pain. He couldn’t love her how he wanted to, how he could with Damask.
They’d talked about her that morning and how he really felt about her, how he’d found his saviour in her, in a young woman with skin he couldn’t touch. That had built a wall between Damask and him, they wanted each other but they didn’t. Respect for the love he held for her was there and he knew that he couldn’t, now he knew who his heart really needed.
He’d held Damask then and silently cried into her, he’d left her alone when she’d needed him, just like he had with Marie. Forgiveness was easy from Damask but would it be the same from Marie? She needed him and he’d been blind, trying to gain the love of a woman who was never going to be his, whose heart had already been won by Cyc years before he’d even shown up. Jean had loved him but not in the way he’d wanted, so he’d tried harder not smarter, she’d known who had loved him and who needed him. She’d even told him that Marie needed him and what did he do?
He’d left, chasing after the nightmares and dreams, finding out the truth about himself and his creator. Hating himself even more when they lost Jean in the flood, leaving a wound in the whole school that would take years to heal. He’d just thought about himself, as he’d always done but she was in there too. Her thoughts, her feelings, her needs for him. It had taken finding Damask to reveal the truth, that he was needed by them, as if fate had replayed itself for him. Saving Damask was saving himself, making love to her was making love to Marie.
*************************************************
They’d gotten dressed and he’d gone out to fix the truck, leaving Damask unsure of her place in his heart but assured that he had one. Now after a final day of repairs that had almost wiped out the bank roll he was ready to get going, back home to where she was waiting for him.
The snow ploughs had been out and cleared the worst of it from the roads, fuelled up and laden with provisions he went to pick up Damask. As he passed the small store he saw the newspaper pinned up on the window. The picture showed a house in flames, the headline “Mutants kill family of 3 in Sick Game.” Stopping he read the by line and felt the animal rise inside him, the door opened and the owner nodded to him.
“They say there’s a mutant round here, travellin’ with another of their kind. If I were them I wouldn’t hang round here much longer. Most folks round here aren’t too wordy, they just look at the pictures.” His eyes met his and an understanding passed between them.
“Yeah no doubt they’ll be long gone by now, although the snow has been a bit difficult.”
The old man’s eyes glinted in the winter sun.
“Can’t say as I know that son, but the old pass over the hill there”, he pointed with a hand bitten by arthritis “has never been troubled much by snow, roads almost always clear up that way. Takes longer mind you, but its safe. Not many folks use it anymore, the old mine it led to gave up over twenty years ago. Nope nothing but foresters up there now and we all know how social they are.” His eyes spoke for him as he walked back into the warmth of his shop. “Not that I’d tell you youngsters anything worth hearing.”
He winked as he shut the door, sending a sweet smell of dry goods into the cold crisp air. There was hope in his words and his attitude, the old man didn’t care who they were or what they were, just that they were alive and deserved respect. Feeling lifted by the old mans generosity and kindness he went to pick up Damask.
He found her packing their stuff back into a small rucksack, he watched her quietly for a while through the window, struggling with the new emotions he was feeling. For years he’d just looked after himself, no-one else to worry about or care for. But here she was, another Marie but a mirror image this time. Where Marie was dark she was pale, where no-one could touch Marie, everyone wanted to touch Damask. As he opened the door he saw her face turn toward him, her hair moved slightly in the cold breeze that entered with him. Picking up the small rucksack she hefted it easily, “Are we ready? Is it going to get us out of here now?” Her voice had a strained quality to it and he knew she was hurting, he’d rejected her earlier.
Denied his animal needs and just held her and she felt betrayed. He had to sort this before they left, or it’d haunt both of them. Keeping them prisoner in a dingy motel room inside themselves, like he had been with his memories, they both deserved better than this. He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. The cold cloth making her pale, she fought a little, pushing against his body. Trying to get away from him, away from the source of pain and back to where they had been a few days ago.
“I hate you.” The words dripped venom and her eyes clouded with silver tears, “Why did you make me care about you? Why didn’t you leave me there, I could have got away.” He knew as the words left her mouth how stupid she felt, how ridiculous she’d sounded. She never could have left that place, she’d had died before she’d got out of the small town; just another frozen corpse by the roadside. “I need you and your going back to her aren’t you?” He took his time in answering her.
“Yes I’m going back but your coming with me.”
“But not how I want to be, not with you.”
He looked at her small face and the pain he’d caused was etched on it for all to see. Hoping the pain would subside in her heart and his as they made their way home.
“Yeah but that’s the way it is Damask, I do care for you but I can’t love you like you want me to. We both needed someone, something but not now,” he lifted her face so he could look into her expression. “I’ll always be close to you but not in the same way. Not ever again. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you but your too special to me to throw this away on an animal need. You mean more to me than a body to fill, or a scent to follow.”
His eyes burned into her, trying to search for her reaction to his words, a small flush entered her cheeks and he knew he’d reached her. Her hands snaked around his middle and he felt her arms hug him tightly, crushing herself into him. Losing herself in him, bonding their scents together, mixing them so thoroughly that they became a heady mixture of musk and sweetness. They’d never be apart, not now, not ever but it was a different feeling; not lovers but more than friends. She looked up into his face smiling “Lets get out of here.”
“Your wish is my command,” healing the moment of pain they left the remains in the small room behind them, like two butterflies tasting the air for the first time on bright wings.
*******************************************************
A home in front of them, the past forgotten and shattered like a bad memory. Climbing into the truck he had Damask get into the back and to start sorting the supplies into the cupboards. As he drove out of the small town, he saw the old storekeeper talking to a group of men. One he recognised as the Money man from the other town, the old man waved as they passed and winked. They had a head start and if the old man was true to his word they’d be free from hassle all the way to the interstate. Maybe trusting someone wasn’t that bad, but he’d hold judgement till he was home.
They stopped at a lake that night, the roads had been as good as the old man had said and they’d managed at least two hundred miles that day. Eating as they travelled, stopping only when nature demanded, they made good time. Passing deer that were unafraid of man and wolves that had come to have a look at what was making all the noise as they passed through their territory. Now they had stopped for the night, he could think again. Sat outside in the cold air relishing the thought of the water on his skin, he didn’t mind the cold it made him feel alive. To feel the blood pumping round his body, shivering in the cool water, making the goose bumps rise. That did it, he was going swimming.
Taking up a container he went down to the lake and filled it, bringing it back he knocked on the door. Damask popped her head out.
“Yeah?” He pushed the water container into her hands.
“Warm this up and get a wash. We both need it after today.” She felt the size of the container.
“There’s not enough here for both of us.” A smile crept across his face.
“That’s because I’m using the lake.” He watched as her eyes widened and her mouth stuttered the words.
“You must be mad, it’s freezing!”
Laughing at her surprise and watching as she shut the door on him, still muttering about how he must be totally insane and not to expect her to come and rescue him from freezing himself stupid.
Undressing as he walked down to the lake, he left his boots till last. Seated on a boulder he could feel the cool air from the lake making his skin crawl. Brushing his skin as he put his clothes and boots on the boulder to keep them dry he decided to dive straight in. Doing it by degrees only leeched more heat from him, better just to do it all at once.
The water was freezing, his breath came in short sharp gasps and felt his skin go into shock. Heart pumping wildly as it fought to control the bodies blood supply, pushing blood pressure skyward. Feet touching the bottom of the lake he pushed out into the deeper water, where the cold was more bearable. Swimming with long easy strokes, feeling the muscles unknot in the water, easing his back from the monotony of driving. Looking back at the truck he saw Damask pulling the small curtains shut as she prepared to get washed. He’d have liked to share this with her, the feeling of the water against her skin would have been wonderful for her. Like an all over caress, wondering if she’d actually learned to swim, or had she missed out on that too?
Deciding to head back he caught sight of movement to the left of the boulder he’d put his clothes on, small furtive movements. Someone or something sneaking around. Putting more effort into it he powered back to the shore line, feet hitting the bottom of the lake and crouching down as he walked up the shore. Keeping as much of him covered by the water, sniffing the air. Pine tar. The smell burned his sinus, the scent of whiskey drifted over from the right, mixed with diesel and salt. His eyes picked out the new looking truck in the darkness and he felt the animal rise again. The old man had lied to him, sold them out. Burning with anger as he moved silently through the water. Hardly making a ripple he crawled out of the water, grabbing clothes he made a dash for the cover of some bushes. He’d watch and wait for them to make the first move, then he’d finish it.
Keeping silent he watched as two men crept around the truck, he didn’t recognise either of them. He had a good memory for faces and these didn’t match any he’d seen in the last few days, what were they doing here? There wasn’t much difference in size between the two men, but both were sending out fear so tangible you could cut it with a knife. One pulled out a small handgun and readied himself with the door to the truck, the other went for the drivers door.
So that was their game, a little robbery and maybe a bit of fun too. Then just dump the bodies in the lake, no one’s the wiser and the road isn’t used much. Growling softly as the blades split his skin he stalked off toward the back of the truck, the guy was counting down from twenty. He got to ten before he got to him, sliding his hand over the mans mouth and gripping it tight he pulled him away into the dark. It didn’t take long. The gun he’d been carrying lay next to him, rusted and useless. Whoever they were, they weren’t professionals.
A long scream snapped him back to the truck, running back he saw the other man falling out of the drivers door, hands to his face screaming. Damask was there her skin bare to the cold, holding a small iron pan and swatting the air ineffectually. Seeing her in tears, shaking with fear, he loosed the animal at the man in front of him. Pouring his rage into his frame, breaking bones, slicing and stabbing until he’d opened him completely. He finally heard her calling for him. Her voice shaky and frightened he went straight to her, his claws receding as he walked.
“I’m here, I’m here.” Her hands dropped the pan and she gripped him like life itself. Tears flooded from her and she collapsed into him, gently he picked her up took her back into the camper part. Dressing her again in her shirt holding her close, as her tears finally stopped lifting her face to his. “Next time you’re coming in with me, no matter what. Next time your going in the water with me, you never know you might like it.” Her lips formed a tight smile.
“Yeah as if you’d ever get me in something that cold.” It was nice to see her smile quickly after the attack on the truck.
“There’s always hot springs you know, like natures whirlpool baths. But the smell can be pretty ripe.” Her nose wrinkled as he spoke and she pushed herself back up and away from him.
“For someone who’s just been swimming you really do smell bad, what did you do to them? You smell like you’ve been in a pile of vomit.” Looking down at his clothes he took in the stains and drying blood of the thief. He looked like a poster for Psychotic’s Monthly.
“Yeah I suppose I’d better get changed but there’s a couple of things I need to do first.” Like get rid of the bodies and burn these clothes. He hoped their van had some others he could use. He always travelled light, just one spare set and that was on the bike. She realised what he meant and started to fill the small pan again with water, putting it on the small electric heater she turned to him.
“There’ll be hot water waiting for you when you get finished. Cold water is fine for bathing in but blood takes hot water to shift.” Looking at her in a new light he watched as she reset everything, the soap and towel, the bowl and the container. She was in charge in here, her confidence in fighting back from her attacker, using the hot water to blind him. He smiled and got on with the job of clearing up.
*******************************************************
The two men sank easily when he’d finished with them, tying stones to them to add weight. He’d pulled their wallets and found nothing but their driving licences and a couple of photos. Them at the lake in summer, fishing and having fun. Placing the wallets in the small fire he’d built he watched as they disappeared, no more evidence to show where they were or who they were. If there were fish in that lake, come next season they’d be bone and the fish would be a lot fatter. Good for the next fisherman who came here. His eyes strayed to the van and he wondered what he’d find in there.
Taking the keys he wandered over to the new looking van, the whole thing screamed car-jack. The tyres weren’t even made to cope with this terrain and the suspension shouldn’t be leaking as it was. Opening the door with the key he climbed aboard and was hit by the smell of rotting food, finding the source of the stink he threw it out. The spoiled carton of milk splashing across the pebbled lakeshore.
Clearing the air he switched on the internal lights of the van and saw the blood stains on the drivers seat. Sniffing the air he found the lingering scent of blood everywhere, the whole van was full of it. Whatever had happened it had been messy, the van looked pretty clean but it wasn’t the recent owners who’d kept the brass handles on the cupboards polished and clean.
Searching through the cupboards and storage spaces he found a small photograph of an elderly couple, smiling into the camera lense. Hope etched on their faces as they held up the keys to their new freedom, a banner behind them read ‘Happy Travels, Bob & Macey’. Whoever they had been he hoped it hadn’t lasted too long. Pushing down the anger as he searched through the rest of the drawers and cupboards, finding a couple of warm shirts for himself and some clothing and underwear for Damask. Stuff that would come in handy as they got nearer to civilisation. Packing a small plastic bag with everything he’d need he switched off the lights and wiped the brass handles he’d held. Removing all trace of him ever being there, their own small truck in front of him seemed warmer and more tangible than the van behind him.
Climbing up into the truck he caught the pan as it came down, “Hey, watch where you’re swinging that.” His voice showing a little annoyance at being treated like a intruder. Damask blushed.
“I’m sorry. Just a bit jumpy that’s all.” She could smell the other camper on him. “What’s their van like? Is it worth swapping over?” Her face was full of curiosity and hope, which he dashed.
“It’s like this one but worse, believe me. We’re sticking with what we have.” Her mouth began to form another question but she caught his scent and closed it. Quietly he handed her the clothing and underwear he’d found in there. Taking a warm shirt he went outside, carrying the soap, towel and dish and went to make himself clean again.
****************************************************
The stars were out and he stood there naked underneath their stares, wondering if civilisation was really what he wanted. Did he really want to go back to the place where people preyed on each other? Where they killed each other for the smallest thing? For being different, a different colour, a different religion, a mutant? Feeling the warm water run over his skin he needed to clean the scent of death from him, to feel new again. Like he had when he’d made love to Damask, the memory twitched awake in his mind. Would it hurt, just once more? The animal drooled at the prospect but he crushed it down. Yes it would. He’d hurt her and confuse her even more, including what he’d do to himself.
Watching the blood run from his hands and spatter on the pebbles, painting them dark in the starlight. He was a killer yes but he was a protector too and they all needed him. The raid on the school had proven that. Turning his head he saw Damask at the door of the truck, dressed in a pair of jeans and good shoes and a big jumper. She climbed down and began to pick her way toward him, she had another pan of water with her, gently steaming in the cold air.
“Over here.” She turned toward the voice and walked a little more confidently. Taking the pan from her hands he poured it into the bowl. “Thanks.” Her face lit up as he handed back the pan.
“Your welcome. I thought you might need it.” Her hands rubbed the soft wool of the jumper and her face was a warm shade of pink. “These are really warm, thanks.”
She made to sit down on the boulder where his new clothes were, putting her hands directly in the middle of them, stirring the scents there. Realising that he was naked in this cold, her face bloomed a little more.
“Aren’t you cold?” Her voice was curious and mischievous and it showed in her smile.
“Why are you wanting to get me warmer?” His voice echoed the animals need and his face split into a grin wondering how she would handle this reply. She shifted uncomfortably on the boulder and made to get up.
“I was only asking if you were alright. There’s no need to tease me, you know how I feel about you.” Her voice showed her displeasure and she pushed her self up off her seat and made her way back toward the truck. Watching her pick her way over the pebbles he saw her go off course, her foot slipped out from under her and she fell. He was there before she even go the chance to get up.
He could smell her frustration and her anger at him for teasing her, she still needed him, wanted him. Being this close to her he found it hard to not give in, not to just allow the feelings overcome him. As he helped her up she planted her lips directly on his, pulling him closer to her and pressing herself against him. Laughing as she released him from her kiss, she reacted angrily again.
“Stop making fun of me!”
She pounded his chest as he laughed out loud into the cold night air. Bringing her knee up sharply made him draw breath quickly and yet he still held her, chuckling under his breath.
“Damask, I love you.” She stopped struggling and let him hold her. Planting a kiss on her forehead he looked at her face, confused, upset but totally his. “You know I can’t, I don’t love you the same as Marie.” She looked exasperated but hurt too.
“I know but I’m here now and she isn’t. Why not?” He opened his grip a little so she could move.
“Because it wouldn’t be just once would it? We know how we react to each other. Would that be fair to either of us?” Her eyes found his and her pale eyes bored into him with their intensity of emotion.
“No but I need you Logan. I need you.” Her eyes filled with tears and she held him tightly. “I don’t want to be alone anymore, every time I’m alone something bad happens. Don’t leave me alone.”
Breathing in her scent, full of fear and pain he couldn’t have left her alone if he’d tried.
“Lets get the things back inside and we’ll go to bed ok?” Her face held the hope that she’d gotten what she’d wanted. “To sleep Damask. We have a long day ahead.” Holding each other they made their way over to the rock, picked up the bowl, pan, soap, towel and clothes. “It’ll be good to control your powers, having me in bed next to you and not being able to have sex.” She looked at him with a look of incredulity.
“Good for who? At least I can turn my scent down.”
“Yeah but there’ll be others you’ll find just as interesting believe me.” Her face opened up into a smile that shone in the darkness.
“Really, like what for example?” Mischief playing at his lips he answered.
“Well there’s chocolate for a start.”
Laughing as he closed the door on the night, he looked up at the stars. They always watched over him and now he hoped they’d watch over them both as they slept. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? Hopefully a phone that worked, it was time to go home and he was going to phone home for a lift. The roads had become too dangerous to use, it was time to fly.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Logan admits to loving Marie at last, putting the thoughts of Jean away and looking at what's in front of him instead of wishing for what he never could've had.