Title: Fugitive
Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Teaser: Logan's thoughts after leaving the school.
Rating: PG
Genre: angst
Notes: This is a sequel to "Touch Me Fall". I'm about
to start writing another to go after this one too.
The song used is "Fugitive" by Indigo Girls once again
from the album Swamp Ophelia.
I'm harboring a fugitive
Defector of a kind
And she lives in my soul,
Drinks of my wine,
And I'd give my last breath
To keep us alive.
Wolverine had assumed that when he went roaring away
from the Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters
on Scott's bike that it would be Jean's gentle smiles
and ample curves that would be haunting his memory and
calling him back. Instead, a small girl with white
streaks burned into her shining hair and dark eyes
that held all the pain of the world followed him. She
lay down with him at night when he checked into the
cheapest motel he could find and drank bitter coffee
with him the next morning.
He could almost hear her voice in his ear as he sped
down the highway, "Runnin' again?" Try as he might to
ignore it, Marie was always there. Her powers were
only supposed to be a one-way transfer, but somehow
the kid had gotten into his mind almost as much as he
had into hers. He fought against the connection and
found comfort in it at the same time. Being alone had
never been anything Logan gave a second thought.
Loneliness was his way of life. Rogue didn't know
that sort of isolation yet, and she looked to him for
shelter even after finding new friends, kids her own
age.
He silently cursed himself for hurting her, then
chanted over and over, "It's what's best for her."
Baby, I'm so sorry
Now it's coming to you;
The lessons I've learned
Won't do you any good
You've got to get burned.
Well the curse and the blessing,
They're one in the same.
Baby, it's all
Such a treacherous gain.
Another bug whizzed by Logan's face and he scowled,
wondering again how knowing what caused the nightmares
that kept him from a decent night's sleep could help.
Now Rogue knew the dreams too. He wondered if they
kept her awake, if she feared sleep as he did.
Sometimes when he sat bolt upright in the middle of
the night, sweat trailing down his body, he could
almost feel her doing the same thing. Logan could
never be sure whether the feeling was real or
imagined. He assured himself that there was no way
they could be so connected.
Either way, he hated thinking that she felt that pain,
hated thinking she knew the terror of the cutting and
prodding and helplessness. She couldn't understand
what it all was. It reminded him of who he was, what
he was. For her, it was only pain. Because of that
pain, she knew him better than anyone had in his
entire life. It was almost as if she had been there
with him. He would never have to pretend it didn't
matter or hold anything back around Marie. She
understood.
And he had run away from her, too scared of himself to
reach out and make the effort, to offer her the
friendship she still needed.
We are fortunate ones,
Fortunate ones,
I swear.
Logan pulled over to the side of the road and covered
his face with his hands, fingers massaging away the
edges of a headache. His quest for the past was just
another way of holding the future at arms' length.
Always he had felt that if he knew his past, maybe he
could finally have a future, but he had stood staring
at a bright future, one that would allow him to do and
learn things impossible anywhere else, and he had
closed his eyes and walked away. Maybe Cyclops drove
him crazy. Maybe living so close to Jean without ever
having her would be torture. Maybe Storm seemed
strange to him. Maybe Xavier dug deeper inside
Wolverine than he liked. It was still the best chance
anyone had ever given him.
Turning the bike manually, Logan began back down the
road he came from, repeating to himself that it had
nothing to do with a certain young girl with white
hair and memories of a life that wasn't her own.
THE END
Feedback can go to wilde_moon@yahoo.com
Peace & Love,
Beth
P.S. Yes, I'm finally done ;)
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