I'm the Wolverine

Title: Alter-Eighteen: I'm the Wolverine Author: Terri Email: xgrrl26@yahoo.com Rating: PG-13 Summary: Alternate version of events in the movie and the eighteen series. Logan's cage match opponent stays unconscious longer than he did in the movie, so Logan has a little time to chit-chat with Rogue at the bar and to try and fight destiny. Disclaimer: These entertaining people do not belong to me. Rats. Archive: Ask, and I'll be happy to give Feedback: Please? With a whipped cream on top? Author's Notes: I really, really, really wasn't going to do any more AU fics. Really. Not after reading some of the great ones that have been on the list lately. Then, my beta reading best friend (brbf) flung this little plot bunny at me and insisted it have a SweetieLogan. I staunchly resisted, citing my need to finish plotting the next stretch of eighteens, and, well, you know, my general need to retain some semblance of sanity. She cajoled, she begged, she pleaded. I turned a cold shoulder. Then she threatened not to beta the next eighteens until I wrote this for her. Damn. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Beer." She's been sittin' there a while. I clocked her during the last fight. So outta place here, hard to miss her. "Here ya go." Bartender. Kinda an asshole, but whaddya expect out here? She's drinkin water, looks like. Must be outta money. Wonder how she wound up here. Aw, well, fuck it. Who cares. Not my problem. Except it's botherin' me a little. I mean, why's she here in the first place? Don't she realize what kinda trouble she can get herself into? Shit, shit, now she's lookin' at me. She even smiled a little. That's just fuckin' weird. People don't smile at me. "You gonna drink water all night?" I shouldnta said anythin', but she looks so fuckin' lost. Not that I care. "Um, yeah. I like water." "You want somethin' else? Look, kid, I'll buy you a drink." It's just annoying, you know? Someone sittin' there, smellin' all hungry, drinkin' water. Someone who probably has no business within an hundred miles of here. Shit, if she ran away from home, she ran in the wrong fuckin' direction. "Um, OK." "Hey - get her one of what I'm havin'. You got any pretzels or shit back there?" "Comin' up." "Thanks." Stop that. Stop looking at me like that. Like you're so grateful. It's just a drink, I'm not promisin' to marry you or nothin'. "Yeah. Whatever." Just because I buy you a drink, it don't mean nothin'. Don't go thinkin' it does. "Here ya are." Shit, he set the pretzels down in fronta me. If I move 'em over, she'll look all grateful again. Well, she's lookin' at 'em now. I should do somethin'. "Uh, would you mind if I had a few of those?" "No." Whew. She asked. Good. Good, 'cause otherwise, she was gonna go hungry. I'm not a no-asking-pretzel-giver. No way. "Thanks. I-I really appreciate it. Thanks." I said stop it with the gratitude look. Those big eyes aren't gonna work on me, girlie. I'm the Wolverine. I'm a badass. "My - my name is Rogue. What's your name?" "Wolverine." "Nice to meet you." Great. Now she smells all grateful too. Isn't she paying attention to my body language? You know, the get-the-fuck-away posture? I know I'm doing it. "Umph." That was the grunt of "stop talking to me." Hopefully, she knows that one. "Congratulations..." Apparently, she doesn't know that one. "......you know, on winning the fight and all." "Yeah." Sounds like a southern accent. If that's so, she's a long way from home. "What're you doin' here?" "Mmgngawaska." Whoops. Caught her mid-pretzel munch. She sure shoved a bunch in there. "I mean, um, I'm going to Alaska." "What the hell for? Nothin' there but snow and eskimos." I been to Alaska. Some good fight bars here and there, but mostly pansy-ass challengers. Canadians take a better beatin'. "I always wanted to see it. I've never really seen snow until I started, um, travelling." Yeah, she did run away from home. I can tell by how she said that. "Well, whatever." Enough on the conversation. I need another beer. Maybe she - nah, hers is still half full. "Hey - another one." "Comin' up. More pretzels?" He's askin' me, but she's the one eatin' 'em. "Yeah, sure." "Sorry. I, um, didn't mean to eat them all." That's kind of - no, no, it's not. It's not cute, how she blushes. It's not. In fact, I didn't even notice it. Nope, didn't notice at all. "I guess I was hungrier than I thought." "No problem." "Do you - um, do you like this beer?" "Yeah." Now she has a complaint about the drink I bought her. I really don't like her. Really. "It's, um, just that I don't usually drink beer. Not usually. I'm more of a, you know, milk or juice person. But - but it's good. It's very.....beery. I was just curious what you thought." Dumb ass, you ordered her a beer. She's probably - what - 18? If that? She don't drink beer. And she had it on an empty stomach. Those pretzels aren't gonna absorb shit. She's gonna be under the bar if she finishes that. "Hey - gimme. Gimme the rest of that beer." She looks a little upset. What the hell is her problem? "O-OK. I - ah - I'm sorry." Why is she upset? I mean, don't she think I know what those crinkled eyebrows mean? I can tell she's upset. "Whatever. Look - hey - bartender - do you have juice or some shit?" "Fuck, no what is this, the Hilton? I ain't got juice. Here's your pretzels. Anything else you want? Maybe some caviar?" "I don't appreciate your fuckin' attitude. You wanna start somethin'?" "No, no." He backed up real quick. "It's just, ah, almost closing time. You two gettin' on your way?" You two? Oh no, hell no. There's no "you two" that includes the Wolverine. Fuck no. "Yeah, I'm outta here." She's lookin' at me, I can feel it. I'm not gonna look. I'm not gonna look. "Yeah, um, me too. Thanks. Bye." Shit, I looked. She talked and I looked. Shouldnta done that 'cause it's makin' me feel kinda bad that she's grabbin' up a handful of pretzels to take with her. Just kinda. Not, you know, totally bad. Not bad enough to offer her a ride or anythin'. Not that bad. Nope, not that bad at all. "Hey, kid, you, um, you got someplace to go?" Shit, shit, shit. Hang on. It's just a question. That's all. Just a question. Only curious. "Um, no, not really. I was lookin' for a ride." That's kinda nice, the way the wind blows back her hair when she opens the door and - "I'm still not in Alaska." - the smile she has. She has big lips, kinda. Big mouth. All her face stuff is big. "What about you?" "Huh?" "Oh, I - I didn't mean to pry." "No, I didn't hear what you said." Stop it. You're the Wolverine. You're constantly hyper-aware of your surroundings. You don't miss conversation 'cause you're lookin' at some girl's hair blow in the wind. Or 'cause you're watchin' snowflakes land on it. Or 'cause you're thinkin' it looks really soft and - "I said, um, do you have someplace to go?" "Uh..." Well, not really. Just about done with the circuit. Gonna just move around for a while I guess. Maybe try to make the cabin, who knows. "Sorry, didn't mean to pry." Wait a minute. Someone's comin'. I smell 'em and - "Hey - asshole - you owe me some money." Shit, that's the last one from the cage. This dumb ass don't know when to quit. "No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it. I know what you are." "You lost your money, keep it up, you'll lose somethin' else." That should clear him out. Every now and then you run into someone who suspects. Most just count themselves lucky to be alive and in one piece and move on with their sad, pathetic fuckin' lives. "Yeah, well, maybe insteada money, I'll just take your little girlfriend." "You get the fuck away from her." Shit, that came out hard. Claws itchin'. Shit. I can smell her - she's scared. "Hey, she ain't your property." "Ain't yours either. So back the fuck off." He's movin' toward her, though, and, dammit, she don't have enough sense, or she's too scared, to back up. "Don't - don't touch me." Shit, she's freakin' out. Wonder if somethin' bad already happened to her on the road. "Come on baby, you don't wanna hook up with a freak like that. Don't you know what he is?" Dickhead. He's gonna get it for that. He better not - fuck, fuck, he grabbed her arm. "No! Don't touch me!" She realized she shoulda backed up now. Too late, she's not gonna be able to get outta his grip. "Back the fuck off." Claws out now. Can't help it. She'll probably run screamin', but - "Shit! What the fuck are you?!" "You don't let her go, you're gonna find out, mother fucker." That convinced him. Shit, he dropped her arm like it was fuckin' made of plutonium and he's runnin' like hell to his car. Fuck, maybe he's runnin' to get a gun or some shit. I'll heal from a gunshot wound, no problem, but she'd be fucked. "Come on, we gotta go." "Oh my God." Her eyes are real wide and fuck, she's gotta be scared shitless of me. Don't change nothin' though. That dickhead might be comin' back. "Look, don't worry, I ain't gonna run you through with the claws, but we gotta go right now." "Are you OK?" "What?" What the fuck kinda question is that? "It - it looked like those hurt. You know, when they came out." I can smell her strong now, and she's not scared. Not at all. That's - that's just wrong. She should be scared. She should be screamin' and runnin' in the opposite fuckin' direction. "We gotta go." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Thanks, you know, for back there." And there's the grateful look again. Only this time, she's closer. Not a lotta room in the truck, not up front. "Whatever." Stop it with the look already. I said "whatver." That means stop with the look. "You know, I'm one too." "One what?" Was I not payin' attention again? 'Cause that shit has to stop. "A....a mutant." Whoa, whoa. She's a mutant? "It's my skin. Bad...bad things happen when people touch my skin. That guy, he could've touched me, and I could've....I could've hurt him. Bad. I could have maybe killed him. I can't....I can't control it. It's like....it's like I absorb them or something, like I suck their life right out. They come pouring into my head, and......It happens whenever someone touches my bare skin." "Fuck." That's a shitty-ass mutation to have. No good use for it, really. Just fucks up your life. Probably why she ran away, I'd bet money on that. "I won't....I mean I won't use it against you. I'll stay on my side of the truck, and I've got gloves on and everything. The only naked skin is my face, so just, um, you know, be careful of that." "OK." "I'm not...I'm not dangerous." No shit, darlin'. You're about as fuckin' defenseless a person as I've ever seen. "I won't, um, I won't do anything to hurt you. I - I wouldn't do that, not to you, not after you helped me." "OK." "'Cause I really, really appreciate what you did, back there." "Look, could you stop talkin'? 'Cause you really don't have to thank me or nothin'. I just did it, and that's all there is to it." I can't stand another grateful look. "Oh, um, all right." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She hasn't said a fuckin' word in a long time. At least a hundred kilometers. I know I said stop talkin' but I didn't mean stop talkin' - I meant stop thankin' me. 'Cause I really, really don't wanna see that grateful look again. I don't. I might do somethin' stupid like say you're welcome and wanna come along with me on the road? Can't do shit like that. I'm the Wolverine. No baggage, no relationships, none of that shit. I should say somethin' though, 'cause she's sure as hell not gonna talk. "Hey, are you, um, are you warm enough? I can turn up the heat if you want." "Yeah, that would be nice. Thanks." Great. Just what I was tryin' to avoid. "Look, um, I don't mean to be an asshole, but you gotta stop thankin' me, OK? It's makin' me nervous." "Oh, all right. Sorry about that." "No problem." Glad we got that taken care of. "Can I ask you a question?" "Yeah." Probably am I gonna use the claws on her or somethin', maybe what am I plannin' to do with her? Well, I got an answer for question A, but I have no fuckin' clue as to question B. "Where are we going?" Oh yeah, that. "Uh, I move around a lot. We're headed north now." "Are you, um, headed anywhere specific?" "Not really." "Oh, OK." "I ain't gonna hurt you or nothin'. I ain't gonna drag you off into the woods and dump you off or nothin'. I'll keep the claws in." Normally, I wouldn't give a fuck what she thought, but.....well, I just don't want her thinkin' those things. Just not those things. "Oh, I didn't think you would do anything like that." "Why not?" Now, that was a dumb ass thing to say. Maybe she really didn't think those things before, but she's probably rethinkin' that right now. "Hmm. I just don't think so. You seem....well, not exactly nice, but, you know, decent. You seem like a very decent person." "What kinda people do you know, kid? 'Cause claws and kickin' ass don't usually add up to decent." Oh damn, now that's a look. I don't even know what to call that one, but I felt it all the way into my bones. "In your case, they do. You're....trustworthy." "You're outta your fuckin' mind. You shouldn't go around trustin' guys like me. Good way to get yourself killed, or worse." That idea fuckin' bothers the hell outta me, and I know it shouldn't. I shouldn't give a shit. Just 'cause I ain't gonna hurt her myself don't mean I should care if she gets hurt by someone else. She's on her fuckin' own. I'm just....just givin' her a ride, that's all. Just 'cause of that dickhead in the parking lot. Wouldnta done it otherwise. I'm the Wolverine, and I don't do people fuckin' favors. "I didn't say guys like you, I said you. I trust you." Now, that just makes me mad and pissed and angry and.....and.....warm. Warm all over. Fuck. She's gettin' to me. Can't let that happen. I'm the Wolverine. "Well, don't. Don't trust me. Don't like me. Don't get comfortable, 'cause next town, you're on your own." "Fine. If you want. But you can't make me not like you." That almost sounded like she was jokin' - wait, not jokin'. She's - she's teasin' or somethin'. She's teasin' me. She's gotta have brass balls, this one. "Can too." Is that - fuck, did I just tease her back? Oh, shit. That can't be good. "Oh yeah? Well if you're trying to right now, it's not working. You're just being cute." "Cute! I'm not fuckin' cute!" That did - it did come out bad-ass. It did, really. "Cute, my ass. I ain't never been called cute darlin'." "Well, I meant it. And I know - I mean I know you don't want me to say thanks, but I'm glad. I'm glad I met you." I don't think anyone's ever been glad to meet me in my whole fuckin' life. "If - if you want me to get out at the next stop, I will. Don't worry. I know - I know I'm a little weird. And scary. I mean not me, my skin. I know that." "I ain't scared of ya. My thing - my mutation is that I heal. From anything. Ass-kickings, knife wound, gunshots, whatever. Your skin might hurt me, but it ain't gonna kill me." I gotta keep my mouth shut. Don't think I ever told anyone about that. Fuck. But she shouldn't think that's why, her skin. She shouldn't think that's why I said that. "So you don't feel pain?" "Nah, didn't say that, darlin'. Feel it real good, real strong. Just heal from it, that's all." "Well, that just sucks. I mean, it's kind of like - if God gave you that mutation, he could've kicked in a little pain relief too. Is that too much trouble?" That's kinda funny. I let out a little laugh there. Haven't laughed in a long time. "Well, God's been pissin' me off mosta my life." "Me too. But I'm not mad at Him, I mean, I still believe in God, you know, even with my skin and all. Maybe he just doesn't like me too much." Her voice - there's something sad about that voice. "Well, screw him. He don't like me either. You can still believe in him and be pissed at him, right?" There's a little smile. Those lips - so sensual. Shame you can't touch 'em. Well, not just plain, like they are. Maybe under that scarf she's wearin'... "Yeah. Yeah. I think I'll do that. He's in my doghouse now." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hey, you wanna get somethin' to eat?" "Sure. I mean - if that's OK. I don't - I don't have any money." "I got some. We can eat." Actually, I got a lot. Last stop was pretty lucrative. Wait, did I just say "we"? That's gotta stop. Gotta nip that in the bud. The Wolverine doesn't say "we." "Th - I mean good. That's good." She remembered not to say thanks. Hmm. She seems like a smart girl. Seems, you know, like a good girl. A nice girl. The kinda girl you'd have livin' next door to ya, the kinda girl you'd notice across a crowded room. Or, you know, a mostly empty bar in northern Canada that - whoa, whoa, stop that. Just stop it. "How about up ahead? Looks like a diner." "OK." Stop thinking about her. Stop thinking about her. Stop thinking about her. "Can I - mind if I bring this?" It's just a notepad or somethin'? She's gonna take notes on the meal? "What's it for?" "I, um, draw." "Draw what?" "Oh, just, whatever's around. Thought I might draw some people at the diner." There's a blush. Which doesn't look good. Not at all. Nope. Not a bit. "I never met an artist before, darlin'." Now, how was I supposed to know that'd make her blush more? I didn't plan it that way. Really. "Well, I don't know if I'm an artist, I mean, they're really just for my own amusement." Oh yeah, that right there - that little half-grin with her one eye kinda covered by falling hair - that's a good one. "Let's go eat." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "That was the best meal I've had in ages." "No? 'Cause I couldn't tell by the way you ate every last bite and practically licked the plate." "You're teasing me." Shit, I am. Fuck. Gotta stop that. But.....she kinda seemed to like it. "Hey - are you going to finish that?" Now she wants my food? Shit, she had the biggest breakfast on the menu. Goddamn. She really musta not eaten much in the last few days. Maybe the last few weeks. "Nah. Go ahead." "Thanks. I mean - " "Never mind." I didn't mind it that time. It was almost nice. She's shovelin' down those fries like there's no - "You know, you can order somethin' else if you're still hungry. Might get some dessert myself." "Can I have a bite?" Now that's a different kinda teasin'. Almost.....flirtin'. "Maybe. Maybe you should get your own." I'm not really flirtin' back. Just want to restate my position that she can order more food. That's all. I'm the Wolverine. I don't flirt. "But I just want a little bite....." "Make you a deal. I'll share if you do a picture for me. Deal?" That's a helluva smile. God, makin' me feel.....I don't really know what. But it doesn't feel bad. "Deal. I'll start doing it now. You order." She looks all excited and happy. I made her look like that, huh? "All right, but don't I get to pick it?" "Sure, whatever you're ordering is fine with me." Yeah, yeah, I'm gettin' that she ain't a picky eater. "No, darlin', the picture." 'Cause I'm havin' a few ideas right now that - "No! I'm an artist, remember? I have to follow my muse. Besides, fair's fair. You pick dessert, I pick the picture." All her big face things - mouth, lips, eyes - they're all lit up. She looks good like that. Wonder how often she's looked that way since she left home. "Guess so." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "You ready?" "I've been ready for a while now. You're a slow workin' artist there, darlin'." Seems so easy to call her that. "Been almost an hour since we left that diner." "Hey! I wanted to get it right. A masterpiece takes time." "Oh, a masterpiece, is it? Well, I hope that apple pie was pretty good then." She stole more than a bite. She stole three bites. Used my fork too. Could taste her on it after. Nope, nope, nope. Not gonna think about that. Gonna stop thinkin' about that right now. Well, maybe I'll think about it just a second or two more.... "It was. And I hope you like the picture." She's handin' it to me, real shy. Real hesitant. Well, I'm sure I'll like it. I can't imagine she's bad at it. She seems like the kinda person who'd be good at that. On the other hand, now that I look at it....."What is it?" It's not that it's not good, just - I can't really tell - "It's you. Your forehead." Hell, it is. Just my forehead and a little bit of my hair. Hmm. "You said you were gonna draw the people at the diner." "Well, yeah, you were one of the people at the diner. Plus, your, um, temples are kind of interesting." My temples? What the fuck? Who ever looks at that? "Do you - what do you think?" "It's good. I wouldnta thought that's what you'd pick to draw, though." She's lookin' at me like it's important what I say. Like my opinion matters to her or somethin'. "Caught my eye." I think that was right. It does matter. She wants me to like it. She's hoping I'll like it. "It's good. I like it." "I'm glad." She looks so soft right now, just at ease, relaxed. Maybe...maybe I'd like to see that look again. Maybe I'd like to see it a lot. Maybe I'd like a shot at keepin' that look on her face. And maybe I like havin' my opinions matter. Maybe I like havin' things about me matter to her. Hell, maybe I just like her. I mean, she's likeable. It's not like she's not. Maybe I just want to hang around her a while. I can do that. I can hang around her a while. After all, I'm the Wolverine, and I get what I want, right? "What's this? In the bottom corner?" I'm the Wolverine, and I get what I want, and if she's it, I can do that, right? I mean, it's not anything wrong. It doesn't feel wrong. She's comfortable with me. She's not scared of me. It's OK with her. I think. "I signed it. It's - it's my real name. Marie." You know what? I do want her. I do. And it is OK with her. I can tell. "Mine's Logan." Never told that to anyone before, but it'll mean somethin' to her. And I want that. "Nice to meet you, Logan." It did. It did mean somethin' to her that I said my real name too. "Nice to meet you, Marie." Little blush this time. Yeah, that looks good. "Hey, I was thinkin'. Wanna stick around for a while? I ain't goin' to Alaska, but I was thinkin' about headin' north - got a cabin up there we might still be able to get to, if the weather holds." She's thinkin' it over. "OK. Sounds good to me." Sounds good to me too, darlin', real good. To me and the Wolverine both.