5. The fight within
It always amused Rogue that she had to go to Connecticut for a good fight. Connecticut! The state of horsey women and even more expensive horses … and the home of The Pen. Two hours across the state line, in back of Eureka Lake, hidden away up a little dirt road, lay the dirtiest, freakiest, loudest, meanest fight bar in the 50 states. Rich folks like seeing blood spilt just the same way as anyone else, Rogue figured – and they were way better at keeping the law in line.
Her Harley fit right in to a line of gleaming hogs as she circled the parking lot, backing in to the row next to the door. Always keep a clear path to your exit, and have your getaway close by. And never a fuckin’ car, kid – they get parked in, towed away, stuck in traffic – cars are for freakin’ amateurs. The lessons were ingrained now, and they had saved her life more than once, and even here, where she was frigging fight bar royalty, she checked her lines of sight once more before swinging free of the lush ride.
The two giants on the door nodded respectfully as she strode past, Joe murmuring “Miss Rogue” while Jack satisfied himself with “ma’am”. She raised an eyebrow at the honorific and mouthed “later”, blowing them a double kiss with a slow intent that two sets of ears bright pink. Their discomfit made her giggle – the two former Marines were friends, so much as she had any. She’d been matched against both of them in the ring at one point, and had only managed to win through a string of execrably dirty tricks she’d since apologised for. They’d laughed and said someone had taught her those tricks for a reason, and to never apologise. Logan inside had growled his approval, and they’d been drinking buddies ever since. Sometimes, she wondered who enjoyed their company more – the former soldier that lived in her head, or whoever the hell Rogue was these days. She suspected she knew whose company they liked, though.
She felt a wide, slow smile working its way across her face at the thought, and swung her hips a little bit more than usual as she wove her way across the room to the bookie’s cage. She could see the vile little man bristling with excitement at the mere sight of her, probably already counting the money she would make him.
“Hello Toad, my love.” Sometimes, she even liked the guy, but a year of living with him had certainly taught her how to manage him. His wet, wide smile was positively gloating as he scanned her from head to toe.
“Looking hot, my babe. Looking ready to kick some serious butt. Make some serious moolah.”
“Tell me you got someone decent on the books tonight. I need a good fight, Toad. You get me? Need it.”
He got her, alright. He revolted her, but he’d seen her in this mood before, and even gotten lucky because of it. Now, they were sensible and kept things strictly business, because when Rogue channelled her frustration into the fights … any man would sell his soul to see it.
“Oh baby, I wish we had someone who could challenge you. No one I know about yet … but maybe we’ll ask the commando twins for a warm up? You game for that again?”
Rogue shot her glance to the door, where Joe and Jack were frisking a new arrival. She sucked in a breath, and traced her lips with her tongue obviously enough to draw their startled attention from the other side of the room. She smiled.
“Oh yeah. That’d be great to start. Soon. I need them soon. And then let me know if anything else comes up.”
She turned on her heel, ignoring her old housemate as she headed for the bar. Wolverine hated it when she drank before the fights, but the buzz helped her. Soothed her skin, and helped her stay loose. Loose? You don’t want to be loose – you need to be sharp! Every sense on alert! This isn’t a game, kid – it’s life and death and you never know when it’s going to come gunning for you.
Let it come, baby, she thought.
Let it come.
*
Logan fought déjà vu as he rolled into the carpark. It hadn’t been called The Pen, last time he’d been here, but not much else had changed. He wasn’t even sure how long it had been – the years slipped by so quickly, and those early years were nothing but a red haze of anger and stupidity.
He’d been King of the Cage, he remembered that. Strange how beating up on humans had helped him, then. Little by little, his own humanity had returned, and eventually, he stopped enjoying it. Stopped needing it. It was as if the blood and hate had fed the animal, fattened it ‘til bursting and left it sleeping in a corner, glutted with violence. Logan had been able to step in, then, and take control. He had his own taste for destruction, but it was tempered and shaped and put to good use against the scum of the human world. Logan’s way kept the animal controllable, and the lust for mayhem had faded, over time.
But right now, the Wolverine was sniffing around. And it was just about delirious with what it could smell.
Blood! Blood.blood.blood. Fight.Fight.Fight. Blood. blood.blood. Females. Females. Her. Her! Her! Fight.fight.fight. Rogue.Rogue.Rogue.Rogue. Rogue.
Yeah, Rogue, Logan thought sourly. He hadn’t known she’d be here, but … it figured. She was still raging. He wondered if she fought in the cage, and then dismissed the speculation. She would have no choice. Her animal would demand it.
Shit. It had all turned to shit. The kid was dying, huge gasps of air doing nothing to satisfy her damaged lungs. The bullet had gone in below her collarbone, and out under the edge of her shoulder blade, leaving two gaping holes he could only plug with fabric from his t-shirt. A shitty little gangbanger, hardly worth the money, and it had ended like this. His girl, dying, in a Pasadena back street. No. No. No! He refused to let it happen, refused! Dragged her into his lap, and pressed his hands to her bare face, begging her to take him. Lips to her forehead, praying. To her. His own goddess. Praying.
The draw came like fingertips on his skin, soft and delicious at first, and he cried with the glory of it. Take, take, take, he moaned into the pain that followed. Take it all. And she did. His healing factor, flowing into her. His animal, into her. And everything he was, every dark corner of his fractured mind, every dirty plan and back-alley fuck, every fight and every killing, every cold decision and hot nasty rage, every emotion he’d ever felt … she took it all.
And when she opened her eyes, dark chocolate had turned a molten, eerily familiar gold. Innocence had fled. “Hello, sugar,” she said.
He’d been amazed at what she’d taken in. Things he had forgotten. Things he had never known he knew. She had new mannerisms he’d never been aware he had – until he saw them reflected in the tilt of her brow, or the bored cast of her face.
He’d taken her to a bar to watch her first fight, and saw her flying high on the rush of pheromones the violence released. He’d watched her eyes narrow when she found the hottest woman in the place. Watched her meander past, and nail the woman with a hungry, hungry look. Watched them fuck, in the alley, with all the power and fury of the Wolverine. And still, he’d been shocked at the noise that ripped from her throat as she came, those long legs nearly crushing little blonde eating her out, body writhing against the chain link fence. Roars. A full Wolverine roar, one he remembered but rarely succumbed to even then.
The guilt that he’d felt then was nothing, compared to now. It was as if every year found another burden to lay on him, every one of them neatly etched with her name. And tonight’s burden was knowing that if she wanted to fight him – he would. And if she wanted to fuck him – he'd do that too. The right thing to do would be to turn around, now. Before she laid eyes on him.
But Logan pushed himself upright, sidestepped the line at the door, and headed for the bar. He told himself he wanted to see if his favourite stool still had three parallel slashes marking the wooden seat.
It did. And he still had a clear view of the cage, where a beautiful girl in black leather was in the midst of thrashing two men, brothers by the look of them.
How fucking appropriate.
*
They’d been in New York for weeks, tracking the target ceaselessly, looking for the perfect opportunity to spring the trap. Catalogued weaknesses, considered angles, and still they didn’t see it. He hadn’t seen it.
Target: Erik Lensherr. Last known locations, known associates, criminal activities … something was bothering him about this job. The intel was good, but … was it too good? Too much detail spelling out just how bad this guy was? How could the client know what sort of guns he had been buying? Or where the dirty money had come from in the first place? Who knew that stuff?
But he’d done his own investigation, and what he’d seen was ugly enough. Using kids to commit crimes. Using mutants to fight other mutants. Plotting some sort of war against humanity.
Well, humanity paid his bills, so fuck that. Lensherr was going down. Tonight.
Four years and it still hurt, Logan realised. His own arrogance. He’d known the bastard was a mutant, but hadn’t thought to find out what he could do, had he. No, the Wolverine was fucking invincible, death’s favourite horseman. Nothing to fear from no one. Except, it turned out, a mutant who could manipulate metal.
Crucified. Spreadeagled, high against the wall, adamantium stripped from his own bones used to form shackles for each wrist. Magneto had laughed as he flayed ‘that remarkable metal’ from his bones, leaving his arms shattered bags of flesh and splinters. Unable to use his claws, endlessly springing and then sheathing at the end of useless hands. Muscles and sinews and bone trying to heal, unable to make sense of the new form his skeleton was taking, but trying anyway. And then the pain really started.
There were five of them. Lensherr. The blue woman, Darkholme. Some sort of lackey they called Toad. And someone horribly, disastrously familiar. Victor. He had begun to scream, then. Because the fifth was Rogue, and the scent of her blood was rank in the air around them. A huge paw caressing her midsection as his arm crushed her neck. And then she took him by the hand. And the veins were appearing on his brother’s face and he was dying and … no. Not Sabretooth. Victor hadn’t survived Sabretooth …
He was screaming – at her, for her, for himself, he wasn’t sure. But she was quiet and collected as she turned to look at him with black, black eyes. Nothing in them except the ancient malice that had stolen his brother's soul. She walked to stand below him then, and for a moment, he thought she was trying to help. Until her hand stretched up slowly, to where his blood was trickling down the wall. It wasn’t much of a flow, but enough to coat her fingers and elicit little growls of approval as she licked them clean. Somewhere, he could hear howls of rage and sorrow, but they were growing fainter as the blackness drew closer …
He had been alone when he opened his eyes. Still chained in shackles of adamantium. Still not whole. And Rogue was gone. He had remembered those empty eyes, and tried not to believe she was gone forever.
Wasn’t 'til tonight that he actually begun to hope. Tonight, Rogue had been there, for long moments of lucidity. Even as she was giving in to Sabretooth’s black rage, Marie’s scent rose clear and pure from her body, and he’d reacted the way he always had. No wonder he’d missed the kick, Logan thought ruefully as he rubbed his sore jaw. Want had a way of doing that to a man, and he and Rogue … they had a history.
He winced as she landed a particularly nasty sidekick to one man’s knee, the crunch it made audible throughout the bar. He wouldn’t get up from that, and without the advantage of someone at his back, the brother would be short work.
Less than a minute later, she was raising one arm in a casual victory salute, her eyes raking the bar to find him. He had already ordered her whiskey and beer, and simply raised his own glass to acknowledge the win.
Future starts now, kid, he thought as she jumped from the cage to join him at the bar.
***
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm sure there is a smutty chapter coming, but this isn't it! The backstory jumped up and bit me instead ... hope its still worth reading ;)
Chapter End Notes:
I do this for love, not money. Let me know what you think!