Fic-An Odd Sense of Deja Vu -Logans POV
Rating- All about the R for language and violence.
Pairing-Rogue and Logan (just to be original) non-romantic.
Disclaimer: It's all Stan Lee's and 20th Century Fox. Blame/worship them.
Feedback: I'm dying here! Do you guys like this???
Notes: BETA READER NEEDED! WANTED! BEGGED FOR!
He left his jacket inside, knowing he would be faster without it. As he
rounded the corner he saw the girl up against the building, one arm trapped
behind her, the other pushing at the mans fist on her shirt. The guy fell to
the ground as soon as she touched him, screaming, the veins in his face
bulging. The girl pushed him away and raced away, heading for the woods.
"Stan? Stan…get up!" The guys ran over to their friend, shaking him. He
had passed out cold.
"Shit! Mike! Is he breathing?" One asked, getting up and backing away.
"Yeah…" Mike muttered, "she freaked him."
"I'm going back, I'll get the guys." He said, turning towards the door.
"You're not gonna say shit. You know how much money we could get for selling
a mutant." With that he took off running after the girl.
Logan growled deep in his throat and waited for the man to go back into
the bar. He raced after Mike, unsheathing his claws. Snow fell around them
rapidly, and only Mikes foul odor of sweat and beer kept Logan from losing
him completely. That and the girls terror. He sensed that she had stopped
running, fallen probably. He picked up his speed and saw Mike through a break
in the snow. He barraged into him.
"What the.." Mike questions falling onto the soft snow. He scrambled up,
looking around him blindly. Logan retracted his blades, knowing he wasn't
worth night mares , and punched him once, then twice. Mike went down. Logan
turned and smelled the girl a few feet away. She was on the ground sobbing
and trying to pull off her remaining glove. Logan approached her silently and
picked her up by the shoulders. Her cloak which was hanging from her, he
wrapped securely around her shivering form, careful to avoid her hands. "Get
into the bar." He commanded.
"Wha.." The storm had gotten so bad he couldn't even see her face anymore.
Damn, he should have brought his jacket.
"Go." He said, shoving her in the direction of the bar. She seemed to
hesitate and then went with the wind toward the lights. Logan looked down at
Mike and snorted. He picked him and threw him over his shoulder, heading for
An hour later both Mike and his friend Stan were put together on the floor
of an abandoned shack in the woods. "You're getting too soft Logan." He
muttered to himself. To appease his grumbling anti-conscience Logan put Mikes
hand down Stans pants. He headed back for the bar.
"Have fun playing in the snow?" Vylette asked sweetly, as he entered the
bar. "I knew you wouldn't leave without the money." Logan ignored her and
inhaled deeply. He turned and saw a dark figure huddled into a corner,
"When do I get it?" He asked, taking off his jacket and shaking it out.
"Me and Jimmy haven't even started counting. A few more boys wanna take you
Wolverine pulled a wet cigar out of his pocket and cursed.
"We have some in the back. I'll grab you a few." Vylette sauntered off. Logan
headed to the bar.
"How many suicidals." He asked, keeping an eye on the corner.
"Two, and ones drunker than anything." Mac, the bartender replied. "You
"Bourbon." Logan said. Mac got out a glass. "The bottle." He hesitated then
handed it to him. Logan took along swallow, feeling the fiery alcohol burn
it's way through his veins. He drank it on his way to the cage and stripped
of his clothing, handing it to Vylette.
"I'll hang these to dry in the back, your cigars are there too." She said.
Why that woman was nice to him, Logan didn't get.
He went through the next two fights not even bothering to try and make it
look tough. The only punches they were able to get in was whenever Logan
thought he saw a dark hood out of the corner of his eye. When it was obvious
no one else in the waning crowd was drunk enough or brave enough to take him
on, Logan bounded down the steps. He strode to the back room, closing the
door behind him when he got there. He paced the office, pulling on his still
damp shirt lying under the desk light. He nursed the bottle of bourbon,
trying to clear his head. She was a skinny little thing, not the kind to
usually attract his attention. The girl was a mutant, that's why he was so
aware of her. Now what was he going to do? Talk to her. "Hi my name is Logan
and I'm a mutant too. Wanna be my friend?" Logan snorted. He'd helped her
once. She could get on by herself. He left the back room, and was startled to
see almost everyone gone.
"What happened?" He asked Vylette.
"The police came in about three minutes after you went in the back.. Said
something about finding some hunters ripped to shreds a few miles from here.
Some kinda wild animal." She shrugged. "Cleared the crowd right out. Me and
Jimmy are gonna go count the money." He walked towards the bar and saw that
the girl was there.
"Beer." He grumbled, throwing some money on the counter. Mac nodded and
brought him one. The girl looked at him like she was trying to get the
courage to say something. He gave her a black look and chewed on the end of
his cigar. She turned away immediately.
"…mutant population…" Logan stared at the screen, keeping his face
expressionless. That damn law. It was going to be passed. And that's why he
was going to keep running. No one was gonna stick a number on his forehead.
"You owe me something girl." Logan looked up and saw Mikes friend, who had
ran back into the bar, standing behind the girl. He looked back at his beer,
his fist clenched around it.
"I…I don't know what you're talking about." She stumbled, her voice high
"No man passes out from a touch. All you did was grab his hand and he clear
passed out." The man accused loudly. Logans' mind raced and his hand wrapped
tightly around the bottle. If he got in the middle of it, he was out of a
"C'mon, he was just drunk." His friend urged, trying to pull him away.
"No, drunk people don't scream before they pass out." He said, glaring at
"I didn't do anything. He attacked me." The girl whispered, her face white.
The man leaned close to her.
"I know what you are freak." Before the man even had a chance to pop out
his switchblade, Logans' bottle shattered in his hand and he stood, slamming
the man against the wall. There were always more people waiting to be beaten
up for money.
He didn't see the knife land in his side, but pulled it out a second later
clenching his teeth until the brief pain passed and he healed. While debating
whether or not to use his blades, the guy kicked him in the groin. Decision
made. Logan pushed him back against the wall, and pulled his fist back. The
man winced, expecting a killer blow. Instead he got his neck framed by two
blades that ripped from Logans' fist, with one pressing into his throat. The
next second Logan heard the sound of a shot gun being readied.
"Get out of my bar freak." Mac said unsteadily. Logan paused for a minute
and then swung his free hand around to his back, splitting the gun in two. He
stepped back, retracting his blades. He glared at them both experiencing an
odd sense of déjà vu, and then walked out of the bar. Logan keened his ears
to see if the girl would follow. She didn't. It was her funeral. He strode
toward his car, noticing that the storm had broken. He slammed into his car
and sat there. Stupid girl. He should've grabbed her on the way out. Logan
rubbed his knuckles absent-mindedly. Oh well. He started the car.