"It's entirely up to you, Logan. I think it would be good for her. And good for you." Charles lifted his eyes to regard the Canadian coolly.
"Good for me, huh? Sticking me in an enclosed space with a teenage girl, for most of the summer? Want to tell me how exactly that's good for me?" It was something of a facade; he was looking forward to spending time alone with Rogue. He was pretty sure it would be good for her, just to get away from the mansion for a bit.
Charles simply smiled. "As I said, it is up to you. You are aware that we have been working on control for her skin, are you not?"
He was. He was aware of everything that went on as far as Rogue was concerned. "Yeah. How's that going?"
"Well enough. If you do opt to take her along, I'll have to ask that you ensure she continues to work on it. You are, after all, the ideal guinea pig. It isn't likely she'll kill you."
"Isn't likely," he agreed. "But it isn't impossible."
"She wouldn't risk that."
For a moment, the two men simply regarded each other, volumes unspoken, before Logan nodded. "All right. I'll go talk to her."
** ** **
He'd never really sought her out before. Not so deliberately. He'd put himself places she was likely to wander to. He'd roamed into areas he knew she'd be. He'd never gone to her room, to look for her. He rapped quietly on the door - well, as quietly as he could, with adamantium-weighted knuckles - and waited for her response.
When none was forthcoming, he knocked again. Still no answer. He let himself into her room, and saw the door of the bathroom was closed, and the shower was running. Ah.
Well, he could wait. He moved to sit on her bed, careful not to disturb anything else in the room, though he did look around, sniffing a few times.
He didn't have to wait long. He glanced to the bathroom door a second or so before it opened. She hadn't noticed him, and he took that moment of her distraction to admire her naked body. He cleared his throat.
She screamed.
He winced.
"Logan! What the hell are you doing in here?" He had to admire her for that; most girls would've screamed, covered themselves, and ran - instead, she screamed, then asked questions.
"You want to get dressed before I answer that? It might take me a minute to explain it all."
"You want me to get dressed?" Wow. Where had that come from?
He sort of stared. Of course he didn't want her to get dressed. "Just thought you might be more comfortable, with clothes on."
She pulled a robe from her closet, draping it over herself, belting it closed. "Now. Why are you in my room?"
"You didn't answer when I knocked, so I let myself in." He shrugged; it was simple logic as far as he was concerned. Before she could reply to that, though, he plunged on. "Chuck's sending me out again. I'll be gone most of the summer."
"...oh." Her face fell, and she nodded. "So, you came to say goodbye?"
"No. Came to see if you wanted to go with me."
"What do you mean, go with you?"
"Didn't know the words were up for interpretation. I meant go with me, as in, leave the mansion when I leave it tomorrow morning, and travel to our destination, and carry out the mission. If you don't want to ..."
"No! No, I want to." She flushed a little, dark eyes gleaming. "Most of the summer, huh? How long do I have to get packed?"
"I'm leaving at dawn. Oh, but there is a condition. Chuck said you had to keep practicing with your control."
She made a face, but nodded. "Who'm I supposed to...use. You?" Even as she'd started to ask, she realized the answer. Of course, him. Who else was going to be there?
He nodded. "Try not to kill me." He rose, striding to the door, resisting the urge to swat her ass on the way out.
"Well, you ... try not to make me want to kill you, and I'll work on that," she called after him before ducking back into her room.
Wow. A whole summer. Alone with Logan.
Oh holy shit. A whole summer.
Alone.
With Logan.
She wasn't sure exactly how to feel about that. With a grin, she reached up into her closet, pulling down a duffle bag and her backpack. She'd figure out how she was supposed to feel, later. Right now, she was ecstatic.
** ** **
She studied the map, turning it around a few times in her hands. She folded it, then unfolded it, then tried again.
He watched her from the corner of one eye, keeping the majority of his focus on the road before them. "That'd be easier with your gloves off."
His voice startled her, and she jumped a little. "It'd be easier if ... there was some way to actually refold the map." But she did set it on her lap, to pull her gloves off. Once they were off, she shoved them into the pockets of her jeans. She eyed the map, and gave up on folding it properly. Instead, she folded it to show their route.
Logan grinned, but said nothing. At least, not about the map. "You hungry yet, or you want to keep goin'?"
She thought about that, then shrugged. She had snacks. "I could go either way. So if you're not hungry, we can keep going." She laced her fingers together over the map, gazing at her nails, the chipped polish that needed to be removed. She really wasn't sure why she bothered painting them in the first place. Jubilee's influence, she supposed.
Shrugging to her thoughts, she reached toward the dials of the radio - they were losing the station, but her CDs were in the back of the truck. That had been a brilliant bit of planning. Maybe at the next stop, she'd get them out. In the mean time, she turned the dial, searching for a station that came in, that wasn't all news, all the time.
Finding something she knew and liked, she smiled, sitting back. She watched the road for a little bit, before she became aware of his eyes on her. Not completely - he had to drive after all - but an occasional glance, and she was pretty sure he was keeping some of his focus on her. "Not a good station?" A glance over to him.
"Station's fine." He grunted slightly, refocusing completely on the road. "Won't stay in long where we're headed though."
"I know. I have some CDs in the back."
He groaned.
She laughed. "It's not all bad. I'm sure you'll like...at least a couple of them. When we stop, I'll get them out."
"Then we're never stopping."
She laughed again. "We have to sleep sometime..." Which brought up an interesting point. "So ... speaking of sleep....how're we ... um. Arranging that?"
"Figured we'd cuddle up in the back of the truck."
Stare. "No, really."
He grinned. "Hotels, where there are some. There's a cabin where we're headed. You need your own room?"
She thought about that. Did she need her own room? No. Did she want her own room? Her eyes strayed over him. Not really. Would it be awkward, sharing a room with him? Possibly.
"Marie?"
"Yeah. No. I don't ... need my own room. Unless you need your own room."
"Own bed?"
"It'd be safer...I don't want to kill you in your sleep. Or wake up with your claws in me."
He frowned as she brought up that particular memory.
"Sorry." She mumbled, dropping her eyes. "I didn't...I mean, I didn't mean..."
"S'okay." He exhaled. "Separate beds then." He glanced over to her, resting a hand briefly on her thigh. "It's okay."
She glanced to the hand on her thigh, then up to him, a smile tugging reluctantly at her lips. "Okay." A pause, and then, "I think I'm hungry now."
He nodded, and it seemed the potential crisis was averted. He gestured to the signs they were passing. "Tell me which exit we want."
With a smile, she turned her attention to the signs, waiting for something to come up that she felt like eating.
** ** **
He could watch her sleep, for hours. He had, in fact. Perched on the edge of his bed, he'd watched her sleep. She was a still sleeper - she didn't thrash or wiggle much. She talked, nonsensical words mumbled, an occasional little laugh. Once, she'd sighed, and whispered his name, a smile on her sleeping lips.
He wasn't sure what she was dreaming about, but he thought he'd like to know. He reached out at one point, brushing his fingers across her hair. She'd mentioned, once or twice, dying the streak in her hair, but in the end, she'd decided not to. It was somehow a defining characteristic for her.
A tribute to her survival, to his heroism (though he wouldn't call it that. He hadn't tried to be a hero; he just wanted her alive). She stirred a little at his touch, and her eyes opened, just for a moment. He doubted she'd come awake enough to realize he was there.
A few minutes later, she'd whispered "...love you ..." before a few soft snores escaped her.
Well, he could dream, right? "Love you, too." Murmured low, and only because she was asleep, and wouldn't hear it.
He was starting to wonder if this was the best idea they'd ever had. Standing, he moved restlessly around the room, then decided to go take a walk. They weren't in a big city (he refused to stop in one), but they weren't so far away from one, either.
Glancing at her once more, he eased out of the room, making sure he had one of the keys before he set out on a walk.
** **
Light was trickling in through the thick curtains, around the edges, and a shaft of it across her eyes woke her. Sitting up, nose crinkling, she rubbed at her eyes. A glance around the room showed that she was the sole occupant. Logan's bed was mussed, so she assumed he had slept, at least a little, but he wasn't here.
Well, maybe he was out getting breakfast. Deciding to go shower while she waited, she made her way into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open so she'd hear when he came back.
She turned on the water, stripping while she waited for it to warm up before she flipped on the shower, stepping under the spray. She'd brought her own shampoo and bodywash, already unloaded into the bathroom the night before. She hummed as she showered, pondering their course of travel for the day. They were in no rush, and Logan was open to stopping at tourist traps, and she thought there might be a few interesting ones along the way.
Daydreaming a little, the first clue she had that she wasn't alone, was a chill breeze through the bathroom as the door opened. "Logan?" She pushed aside the curtain, and screamed.
The man standing in the bathroom doorway, was not Logan.
** **
"Well, hello, darlin'." The man in the doorway drawled as he moved closer to her.
She screamed again, unable to help it. "Who're you? What're you doing in here?" Where's Logan? But she didn't dare ask that, not sure she really wanted the answer.
"Doesn't really matter, in the end." He drew a gun from a holster at his hip, and pointed it toward her. "We can do this easy, or we can do this hard. It's up to you, but I don't think you'll like it if you fight me."
She ducked back behind the shower curtain, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon, but there wasn't much in there. Her razor, shampoo, soap, bodywash. Against a gun, none of that would be any good.
He pushed back the curtain, flicking the safety off the gun. "You know, kid, you're kinda pissing me off."
She didn't want to do it. She hated the idea of doing it. But she leapt at him, arms outstretched, her hands around his neck. She felt the pull of her mutation, and she gasped. She watched him choke, cough, heard the gun clattering to the floor, and she released him when he'd passed out.
She hadn't killed anyone (yet) and she had no desire to start now. She couldn't imagine having an entire person up in her head; the pieces she had in there already were more than enough.
Stepping over him, she wrapped herself in a towel, dizzy as she stepped out of the bathroom. She picked up the gun, closing the door behind herself, leaving him inside. She doubted he'd be up any time soon.
Her hands shaking, she moved to the bed, sitting down on it. Rifling through his memories, she knew there was another guy outside, and they had Logan. They were going to bring him to a lab. Or the lab. She wasn't sure which. Either way, it made her kind of sick to think about it.
Reaching for the phone, trembling fingers started to dial the number for the school, but a sharp sting on her shoulder turned her attention to the door. Apparently, his friend had gotten tired of waiting. Even as her vision blurred, as consciousness started to flee, she tried to finish dialing the number. If she could make it ring, someone would know something was wrong...
...but blackness swept over her, and the last thing she heard was the receiver clattering to the nightstand.
** **
She was cold. She was really, really cold. She opened her eyes, winced, and closed them again against the glare of the flourescent lights. She tried to lift her head, and a strangled yelp made it past her lips as the motion cut off her air supply. She tried to move her arms and legs, but found she was very securely tied down.
Oh, hell. Resting her head back against the table, eyes closed, she tried to think, and was finding it impossibly hard. It was bright, she was cold, she had to pee, and she couldn't move. She was aware of the faint throbbing on her shoulder, from where the drug-laden dart had hit her, and she sighed.
On the bright side, she was probably where Logan was. If he was here, he'd get her out. He wouldn't leave her alone, if he knew she was here.
But what if he didn't know?
** **
"Hello?" Jubilee picked up the phone as it rang. She didn't hear anything on the other end, and she drew breath to call another hello, when she did hear something, like a grunt. Pressing the phone tighter to her ear, straining to hear anything else that might be there, she pressed the button on the device next to the phone that was supposed to be able to trace the call. Here was hoping.
She heard a muffled voice. "Christ, you don't look that heavy." A muffled groan, then what she thought was the slamming of a door, before she heard more distinct noises. Someone lifting up the receiver. Breathing. Then the buzz of a dead phone line after the phone had been cradled.
With a sigh, she dropped the receiver, and looked at where the call was coming from. Scribbling down the information, she trotted off toward Professor Xavier's office.
** **
He didn't know how they'd managed it. He didn't really care, either. His claws scratched ineffectively at the walls of his prison. Solid adamantium, all the way around, overlapping in places, so even if he had managed to find a seam, to pry the walls apart, there was another barrier.
It was a nightmare. Even worse, they had Marie. Somewhere, here, they were holding her. He screamed, deep and feral, scraping claws again against the wall, but they never had any effect.
He heard the unlocking mechanisms, and his eyes flicked to the door, or what passed for one. Nostrils flared, and he retracted his claws, starting toward the noise.
"Hello, Wolverine."
Logan regarded the man, saying nothing, doing nothing, simply watching with narrowed eyes.
"I see you're no more talkative today that you were yesterday. Pity. I'd so love to have a conversation with you."
Yesterday? Was that right? It hadn't been a whole day. Had it? His sense of time was warped in the prepetually lit cell. "Where's Marie?" The only thing he cared about, short of getting out of here.
"Marie? Oh, the girl." He waved a hand. "She's fine. For now." He smiled coldly at the Wolverine. "Of course, how fine she remains depends entirely on your cooperation. I'm sure you understand."
He understood. He hated it, but he understood. Lips curled back in a silent snarl, but he'd listen.
What choice did he have?
Updated 4/23** ** **
She opened her eyes, and found the room just as black as it had been behind her closed lids. Open. Close. Open. Close. The same blackness. Oh, Jesus, they'd made her blind. She stifled a panicked noise, struggling to free herself only to find she was no longer bound. But she was blind.
Was she?
She lifted her hands, but she couldn't see them. Couldn't even detect the faintest motion. She resisted the urge to cry, because it wouldn't do her any good. "Logan...where are you?" He should have rescued her before now. Before she went blind.
** ** **
He closed his eyes. He'd answered their questions, consented to their experiments. They'd mentioned that she - Marie - was a wonderful test subject. He'd been incensed, but it didn't do him any good. Nothing was good. He dangled from the shackles, glaring at the IV drip that fed a continuous dose of some drug or another into his system. Not fast enough to keep him knocked out, but fast enough that it kept him from triggering his claws.
He hated this place. The first chance he had, they were all going to be sorry they'd done this to him, and to Marie. They'd be sorry, until they died - which wouldn't be for long.
With a growl, he twisted and pulled, and struggled against the bonds holding him, but they'd planned well.
They'd planned very well.
** ** **
"This is the place." Storm looked around the abandoned hotel room. "The question is, where did they go from here?"
Cyclops let his eyes roam over the room, seeing everything in the red hue he was so familiar with. There'd been signs of a struggle in the bathroom, the alarm clock had been knocked off the nightstand, and the phone was askew. Where had they been taken?
He ran a hand through his hair before he gestured to the door. "Let's go ask around. See if anyone saw anything." He doubted it, very much ... but for now, it was all they had.
Updated 4/23** ** **
I found her. Scott exhaled a quiet sigh as he heard Jean in his head.
Where is she? He assumed Logan was with Marie, where she was being held.
There's a lab. About ten miles from the hotel, back through the woods. Scott nodded, conveying the information to Storm as they headed back to their vehicle. It was just the three of them, but he trusted that would be enough. They worked well together, after all. They met up with Jean, and together they drove to the lab, parking a fair distance away.
They got out, and together gazed through the trees at the dull grey building. "You guys ready?"
"As I'll ever be." Storm gazed down to the building, hate burning behind her eyes. She glanced to Jean and Scott, but they wore similar expressions, jaws clenched, mouths set.
Labs. She shook her head, starting forward, picking a path through the woods.
** ** **
She had no concept of time. It could have been minutes, or hours, or days - but she doubted that. Hours, maybe. Maybe days. She didn't know. She'd lived in a world of prepetual darkness, and near soundlessness. She wondered a little if this was some sort of sensory deprivation room, and she hoped that's what it was, and not blindness. She wasn't sure she could stand being blind. She knew she wasn't deaf - she could hear herself when she talked, which was becoming more and more frequent. Talking to herself calmed her a little. Babbling on and on about what she'd do when she got out, how she'd tell Logan that she loved him, even if he didn't love her back, because the thought that she might die with him never knowing that tore her up inside.
When the explosion rocked the building, she sobbed in relief. It had to be their rescue. She didn't know how they would have found them, but she didn't care, either. They were here, and they'd be free, and it would all be all right.
** ** **
His head jerked up as he felt the building tremble. One blast rocked it, and then another, and then he heard the roll of thunder outside. He smiled. They were coming. As much as he hated to be rescued, he was glad - for Marie's sake, of course. If he couldn't get her out alone, then he'd get her out with help.
His eyes were trained on the door when it burst open, and he grinned at Cyclops. "Well. It's about time." He was disgusted at how his words slurred, but as soon as he got down, his body would take care of that.
Cyke grinned back to him. "You know where they have Marie?" After he finished speaking, he blasted the chains holding the Wolverine.
Logan grunted, pulling out the needle as he landed, somewhat unsteadily. He leaned on the wall, waiting for his body to expel the toxins. "I don't know. They've moved her a few times. Tortured me with it." He straightened up. "You left the guards to the girls?" A lopsided grin.
"Well, they need to stretch their proverbial wings, too. I drew the short straw so I had to come find you."
Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it." He started out of the room, and heard Logan following.
** ** **
"Jean, she's in here."
Marie turned her attention to the voice. She felt a soft rush of air as the door opened, but she still couldn't see. "Storm?" She was dismayed at how weak her voice was, and she lifted her hands. "I can't...I can't see, Storm."
"Okay, sweetie. It's okay. We're here. Just relax." She frowned as she really got a look at her. She was cut up, bedraggled and dirty, and apparently blind. "Can you walk?"
"Yes. I have been...walking around." She flinched as she felt Storm's gloved hand on her arm, turning blind eyes toward the woman. She heard someone in the doorway, and she whimpered a little. "Storm?"
"Shh, sweetie, it's all right." Storm guided her gently to the door. "It's just Jean, Rogue. You're all right."
"Where's Logan?" Now that they were on their way out, she had to know.
"I'm here, Rogue." He rubbed a hand down his face as he saw her. God. He'd let this happen to her. "Baby, I'm sorry." He didn't care that Storm and Jean were there. He didn't care that Scott was behind him. "I shouldn't have left you..." He stepped between Storm and Jean, and he brushed her lank, disheveled hair out of the way. "Let me heal you."
"We should-" Scott started, but Jean's elevated hand stopped him. Yes, they should go, but it could wait a minute more.
She nodded, unable to stand the blindness any longer. She lifted one hand, reaching for Logan. He caught her hand gently, and she gasped as she felt his power flooding her, the pain fading, her sight easing back. She was curious as to how she'd lost it, but not curious enough to stick around and find out. She pulled back when she felt too much of him inside of her, and she staggered.
Storm caught her, holding her gently. "Let's get out of here." She supported the girl as they made their way out of the now-deserted lab. It appeared it had been designed with one purpose, and one alone. To recapture the Wolverine.
Logan waited until he was even with Rogue, and he rested a hand on her waist, sick with worry, with guilt. He kept his eyes on her the entire way back to the car, slipping his arm around her once they were safely settled inside the back seat. He drew her close, taking care not to touch her skin - though that was a task made easier when Cyclops passed back an overcoat. He draped it around Rogue, pulling her body against his, softly nuzzling her hair. "It's okay. It'll be okay."
"Logan...I love you." The words were barely a breath of air, but he heard them, and he smiled, squeezing her arm gently.
"I love you too, baby."
She nodded, and closed her eyes, and sank into a blissfully dark sleep. He was right - it would be all right.