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By the Midnight Sun
PROLOGUE:

‘Three years…I can’t believe I wasted three whole years..!’

With furious, jerking movements Logan jammed articles of clothing into a large duffel. Much later he’d be sorry he wasn’t more aware of his choices, but at the moment all he wanted was to get packed and get the hell out of Dodge.

“Logan, please”wait!”

He cringes slightly at the usually soft, feminine voice behind him, now raised with a level of panic. He still remembered with some pain how that voice used to clam his mid-night terrors…

“Logan, please, I’m so sorry! Please, let’s talk about this”“
…and the sound of that same voice raised in ecstasy to the touch of another man.

‘Three fuckin’ years…’

Shoving the drawer to the clothes dresser with such force the wall rattled slightly, he turned quickly and headed to the bathroom. Sniffling apologies, the woman followed, close enough to touch him yet she seemed to dare not.

“Can’t believe this shit…right under my own god dammed nose”“, his mumbling was closer to a feral growl as he brushed the toiletries on the sink inside the bag with one sweep of his hand. A few of the intended items missed the jagged entrance of the bag but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“James.”

For the first time he raised his eyes to her as he turned toward the door framing her slim form. She held her ragged breath at the look he spared her. He didn’t even look at strangers with such dispassion as he threw her way now. “Don’t. Call. Me. That. Not you, not anymore.”

“B-but Ja”Logan, just”“

“That’s it. I’m done.” He stepped forward, hoping she wouldn’t be dumb enough to hold a front. No such luck.

“I can’t let you just walk out on me”on Us”like this! I won’t.”

He was in the middle of a sigh when she began her plead, but now his feral expression returned at that remark. “Me, walk out??! Lady, you gotta be shittin’ me. I ain’t the one caught with their hand in some one else’s ‘cookie jar’. Or should I say pickle jar??”

She winced at the crude joke, but stood her ground, hands braced against the frame. “It was a mistake, Logan. I’m sorry! We both are.”

“Yeah, you sure are. Now MOVE.” He hoisted the bag over his shoulder, ready to put some distance between them before his temper flared again. There was some part of him that was proud he hadn’t lopped off heads at this point. He also knew that wouldn’t last the longer he stayed in the House. It was difficult enough seeing her, but if he had to be in the same vicinity as that sonuvabitch he’d lose it for sure.

“Logan,” she pleaded, “I’m trying to make things right. I’m”“

“I said move, dammit!”

“”not giving up on Us.”

‘Jesus, enough is enough’, the thought came almost as quick as his temper returned, and Logan found himself suddenly leaning closer to her, his right fist shooting up approximately eye level to her, close enough she let out a yelp of surprise and drew back. Though Logan had no intention of striking, he allowed the tips of his claws to peek through the skin of his knuckles just for effect.

They stared at one another for several seconds, apparently unaware of the insistent banging on the bedroom door or the voice beyond.

Finally Logan broke the silence. “That’s why I’m leavin’. If you don’t know me well enough by now…”

She shrank away from the door’s opening finally, unable to cover the instinctive fright she’d displayed.

“Open the door, damn you! I swear, if you hurt her--!”

Logan growled as he swung open the heavy oak wood door,
having finally realized that hated voice was on the other side. The two men eyed each other for half a moment; Logan was warring with himself as to whether or not he could (or should) attempt to pass without taking a shot. “She ain’t the one you should be frettin’ over, Slim.”

Scott cocked a brow at that, but before he could respond”

‘Oh hell, why not?’

Wolverine rushed him, knocking the younger man back against the opposite wall. The force alone was enough to knock the wind out of Cyclops, but Logan’s adamantium-laced frame kept him firmly in place. With his arms pinned successfully, Scott was completely helpless, unable to remove his ruby shades.

“Logan!” She came up behind them, her finely manicured fingers covering her mouth. She could end this now, with one telekinetic thought, but there was a very perverse wish to see this…

Scott held his ground (such as it was) however, despite the odd feeling of his bladder threatening to loosen. “You wouldn’t dare.”

In response, one slender nine-inch blade sang, striking the wood at the right of Scott’s throat. The gasps around him alerted Logan his little conversation had probably awakened some of the others. ‘Good’, he thought, ‘an audience.’ “Oh? And who’s gonna stop me, huh? Chuck’s outta town, you don’t seem to be going anywhere. And I doubt anyone else here is stupid enough to play hero.” He paused, realizing the unintended joke, and chuckled once. “I could run you through right now, and there ain’t a damn thing to stop me.”

The slow sound of metal against metal and bone was the only sound as the blade opposite the first slid out. There wasn’t enough space to ensure Scott’s neck wouldn’t get hit, and he knew it.

“Mon ami.”

With an almost knowing grin, Logan turned slightly to see Remy LeBeau standing not a few feet away, Rogue behind his shoulder. “Oh yeah, I f’got you, Cajun. Gotta be one dumb one in the bunch.”

Remy only grinned, knowing Logan well enough that that wasn’t completely meant as an insult. As for Logan, he didn’t seem to question the fact Remy was dressed to leave while everyone else still donned sleepwear. He and the Swamp Rat had an understanding, after all. They were there for one another even in the roughest of spots. It had been Remy to put his own neck on the block and alert Logan he thought something was going on behind the Wolverine’s back. He evidently was not the only one who knew but definitely the only one to step up. Logan would always respect that about the “kid”.

Wood creaked as the other adamantium claw returned to its home, and Logan backed away from Scott, the X-Men’s leader out of breath from being crushed against the wall. His knees buckled and he slid to a sitting position on the carpeted hall’s floor, coughing to catch his breath. Gathering his bag once more, Logan didn’t spare either of them a glance as he headed down the hall.

Remy pulled at his gloves, then gave Rogue a quick pat on the cheek. “Don’ worry, chere. Remy’ll be in touch as soon as the Wolverine’s had some time to cool down.”

With that he hefted his own bag, and headed after Logan. Before he passed Scott (who was still struggling to stand) a slender arm reached out to stay him. “Remy”“

“If yer goin’, LeBeau, let’s book!” Logan’s rough voice was near the end of the hall but still managed to shake things on the wall.

He looked down into her sparkling eyes and shrugged dispassionately. “You heard de man, Jeannie. Time to go.”

And with that, the young Cajun jogged to meet Logan in the garage.



End Prologue.





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