Title: Lost Souls, Part III: Plus Profound
Category: AU Logan/Marie. Some angstin' going on.
Rating: R for language and adult situations.
Disclaimer: X-Men and its characters are owned by a bunch of people.
Sadly, I'm not one of them, or I'd have money. But I don't, so please
don't sue me. Title and lyrics come from Hooverphonic, off their "a new
stereophonic sound spectacular" CD.
Summary: Marie learns some things and starts to lose her grip. Come on,
you saw this coming, right? She also shakes her groove thang, and it
ain't pretty. LOL.
Distribution: Want, take, have. Just let me know.
Previous parts are at http://www.geocities.com/panda_grrl2000/lost.html
Feedback: I'd love to hear what you think. jmmadigan@...
Note: This seems to be turning into a little Hooverphonic fest. Check
out their Web site at http://www.hooverphonic.com
to hear their music.
It enters your veins
it enters your soul
it tries to obsess you
it looks for defaults
Try not to lose
not to lose control
It tries to destroy you
it tries to tear you down
Am I lost in your backyard
Feel the pain
yellow takes over
yellow takes over
He had claws.
Marie was sure there were other thoughts trying to work their way
through her brain, but she was stuck on a single one.
He had claws.
Big freaking metal claws that came out of his hands. Blades. Knives. Out
of his knuckles like claws, and damn, wouldn't that have to hurt?
The other bar patrons, quiet for a full five minutes after he left,
finally returned to their chatting and flirting and lying and cussing.
Of course, the only thing anybody wanted to talk about was the guy with
*You and your mutie freak boyfriend.* That's what the guy had said, and
Marie figured he was paying more attention than most. More than she had.
All the little things she'd picked up but never put together coalesced
into the full picture. A mutant, of course. And he'd want to keep it
quiet, the way the anti-mutant forces were growing in number and flexing
their collective muscles.
But he'd revealed himself. To keep her safe. And now he probably thought
she was ... what? Frightened? Disgusted?
Marie hopped off the bar stool, pushing past the crowd that lingered
around the bar, and raced out the door. Even down the street, she could
hear his truck starting. She sprinted toward the motel parking lot,
desperately jumping in front of the truck before he could pull onto the
street. He slammed on the brakes, stopping just before he plowed her
Marie blew out a shaky breath while the Momma-voice lectured her on the
dangers of playing in traffic.
"Get the hell out of my way."
Well, he was back to his surly self, wasn't he? Not that she could blame
She started to go to his window, then paused, staying in front of the
truck. No need to tempt him into driving away without her, was there?
"You said you'd give me a ride to Anchorage."
He was quiet for so long she thought maybe he hadn't heard her. Finally,
he backed the truck up and pulled into the parking space in front of her
room, leaving the engine running. She followed slowly, coming to stand
in front of him as he got out of the truck.
She wasn't sure what to say, and it was his turn to talk, damn it.
"I thought ..." he started, then sighed. "We'll need to leave now. They
probably called the cops."
"It's not illegal to be ..." She wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.
"It may not be illegal -- yet -- but it ain't wise to be 'different' in
She nodded. "I'll get Fred." She stopped at the door and looked back at
him. "Don't leave without us. Please."
She took that to mean he would wait, but she still rushed to throw her
things into the duffel and followed Fred out the door in less than a
"All set," she said, climbing into the passenger seat.
They drove in silence for 15 or 20 minutes before she dared to speak.
"I wanted to ask you something." Marie ran her hands over Fred's coat
and considered the best way to phrase her question. The last thing she
wanted to do was offend him.
"I said yes," he snapped. "I'm a mutant."
"Duh," she snapped back before she could think better of it. "I thought
we'd established that by the whole ... *snikt* thing." She imitated the
sound the blades made and formed her fingers into claws.
Logan chuckled. "Then what did you want to know?"
"What ... what kind of mutation is that?" she asked. "I've never even
heard of anything like it before."
"That's not really my mutation," he said. "They grafted metal onto my
skeleton, and apparently decided to add some claws for good measure
while they were at it."
"Government, military? Who knows?"
"You don't remember?"
He sighed. "I woke up in the woods. Eighteen or so years ago. I didn't
remember anything except my name. And I don't even know if that's real.
I've been trying to find out what happened, but I'm not really getting
"I can't imagine anyone could live through that." She stared at him,
trying to imagine what it would feel like to have metal running through
your body. Trying to imagine what it would be like to lose your past. As
many times as she'd tried to lose hers, it stuck around as stubbornly as
a shadow, matching her every move.
"Well, my mutation ... my 'gift' is super-healing ability."
"You say that like you don't believe it," she said. He looked at her
blankly. "That it's a gift," she explained.
"That's what ... some people I know call our mutations. Gifts. I think
that's a crock of shit." Logan's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
"When they come out ... does it hurt?"
He flexed his fingers and stared at his knuckles for a moment. "Every
time," he answered quietly.
She suddenly wanted to cry. For the first time in ages, she didn't want
to cry for herself or her own losses or mistakes. She wanted to cry for
this man. The fact that she cared frightened her. That was part of the
new Marie. No caring. Not about anyone. Fred got past her defenses when
she wasn't looking, but she couldn't take caring about anyone else. It
was too painful when they left. Because they always did.
Logan cleared his throat. "I thought you'd ... you, uh, don't seem
"Oh." It never actually occurred to her to be scared of him. "I figure
you could've hurt me any time in the past couple days if you wanted to."
"I guess. I wouldn't, though."
"I know." And she did. It was a little crazy, though. Maybe she was a
mutant, too, and just didn't know it yet. She seemed so comfortable with
them; maybe mutation was just a state of mind.
He fell silent again, so she spoke. "I always thought it'd be cool to be
"Yeah. I knew this guy in Chicago ... 'bout a year ago. Johnny. He could
make fire, like, out of thin air. I thought that would be a kick-ass
power to have."
"Gift," he said sarcastically.
"Right. A kick-ass gift. Of course, knowing me, I'd probably
accidentally torch something and get arrested for arson."
"It ain't all fun and games," he said seriously. "Being a mutant ...
people hate you."
"Yeah. We always hate what we don't understand, I guess." She didn't
tell him about the long talks she'd had with Johnny. He'd told her about
his parents, how they'd kicked him out at the first manifestation of his
power. Their own son. A freak. They couldn't deal, and he was on his
She'd felt a connection with Johnny. She'd even told him the truth about
herself. Parts of it, anyway. Her parents had disappointed her, too.
Disappointed her with their disappointment in her. Hey, she'd wanted to
say, you made me what I am today. Aren't you proud? Her Momma-voice was
pretty silent on this topic. As usual.
She put in a new CD to drive the thoughts away. Save Ferris, and she
could tell Logan hated it even though he did't say a word. Fred,
however, liked the CD, and he sat up between them, wagging his tail.
"What is he doing?"
"He likes this CD," she explained.
"Either that, or he has to pee."
"Well ..." Logan trailed off and hit the brakes. Fred crashed into the
dashboard with a yelp and Marie gasped as her seat belt yanked the
breath out of her.
"What the ..." Marie drew Fred into her lap. He didn't seem to be hurt
and was even wagging his tail again. Logan unhooked his seat belt and
hopped out of the truck. "Logan, what --"
She looked up then, and the sight made her catch her breath. Three cars,
or what was left of them, were twisted into a mass of metal along the
road. Two people, bruised and scratched, were trying to help someone out
of one of the other cars. Logan ran over to help them.
Breathe, Marie. Breathe.
Suddenly, hyperventilation seemed like a possibility. She pushed Fred
off her lap and unsnapped her seat belt, dropping her head between her
knees. It's OK don't think don't think about it don't think, it's OK.
She forced herself to breathe normally and slowly lifted her head, just
as Logan went around to the back of the camper.
Marie shakily got out of the truck, shutting Fred inside. She ignored
his whines and went back to Logan.
He climbed out of the back with two blankets. "Here." He shoved them
into her arms. "There's a woman. She's hurt. She needs these. Over
He snapped out the orders like a military officer, and she followed him
wordlessly. The other two men were still trying to get another person
out. She stumbled a little at the sight of the woman on the ground, but
she kept following Logan.
Don't think don't think don't think don't think. She tried to put
something else in her mind and came up with a song. *Do a deer a female
deer, re a drop of golden sun, mi a name I*
"Marie!" Logan waved a hand in front of her face. "Are you OK?"
She tried to answer him, but she couldn't find the words.
*mi a name I call myself, fa a long long way to run*
"Marie? Snap out of it. She needs help, damn it."
She nodded and dropped to her knees, tucking the blankets around the
woman on the ground. She was in her 30s with curly blond hair matted
with blood. Her round face was streaked with tears. Marie wanted to
smile at her, but she couldn't remember how.
"You're gonna be OK," she whispered, hoping she sounded convincing.
*There is nothing like a dame, nothing in the world, there is nothing
you can name, that is anything like a dame*
"What's your name?" the woman asked, her voice rasping.
Marie wondered if she had internal injuries. "Marie," she answered.
*Getting to know you, getting to know all about you, getting to like
"Alice," she said. "Am I dying?"
God. Don't think don't think don't think. "You're gonna be OK," she
*Happy talkin' talkin' happy talk, talk about things you like to do*
"OK," Alice said.
Marie tried to pray, but she couldn't remember how to do that, either.
How could she remember the words to all these damn songs and not
remember how to smile? How to pray? She remembered sitting on the couch
with her Momma, watching musicals, and the way Momma would sing along in
her beautiful voice and not mind if Marie sang, too, in her terrible
Don't think don't think don't think. Just pray. You used to do it all
the time. How did that go? She couldn't remember, so she settled on one
Amy (graciously) criticised the artistic parts of the story, and offered
hints for a sequel, which unfortunately couldn't be carried out, as the
hero and the heroine were dead.
~~ Little Women