|
Title: Three
Spirits
Author:
Terri
E-mail:
xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:
PG, for plagiarizing a famous Christmas Story
Disclaimer:
I don't own any of them except the
spirits.
Wait - I kind of don't own them either.
Damn copyright
laws.........
Archive:
WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Dolphin Haven, Peep
Hut - all
others, please ask :)
Feedback:
Please? With a sugar cookie on top? Good,
bad, and
ugly welcome, but I'll warn you - flames may
be publicly
mocked ;)
Summary:
Logan gets a holiday visit from the Ghosts of
Christmas
Past, Present, and Future.
Comments:
Let me just say that I always cry when Tiny
Tim says
'God Bless Us, Every One.' Yes, I am a big
sap. And
let me also just say - see, lawyers aren't
all bad
;) Seriously - this was prompted by Cat's
request
for a birthday fic with a happy ending, and by
my Energizer
Holiday Plot Bunny that just keeps going
and going
and going.........I hope Cat likes it :)
----------------------------------------------------------------
"It's just
- it's just that I was hoping you'd stay
for Christmas."
Rogue bounced up and down on her toes
a little
as she blocked Logan's path to the front
door. He
huffed, and shifted his duffel bag in his
hand.
"I toldya,
I'll be back in a coupla weeks. Marie,
Christmas,
holidays - that don't really mean nothin'
to me."
"I know,"
she shrugged.
"'Sides,
there's a fight on in Calgary in four days.
I'm already
cuttin' it damn close as it is." In more
ways than
one, Logan thought.
"Is it because
of what happened the other night?"
Marie asked
a little sheepishly. "Because if it is, I
- "
"I toldya
I don't wanna talk about it, OK?" Logan
definitely
didn't want to talk about it. He was
heartily
trying not to even think about it, much less
have a whole
conversation reliving the events. He'd
nearly kissed
Marie, and the ensuing embarrassment and
awkward
conversation was just best forgotten.
"OK, OK."
Marie looked a little lost for a few
moments,
then frowned. "Take - take care of yourself,
OK? I'll
miss you." Logan breathed a sigh of relief
at her apparent
acquiescence. "Have a good
Christmas."
She took a step forward and opened her
arms, as
though she was preparing to hug him. Can't
have that,
Logan thought, that can only lead to more
close calls.
He put his hands out, catching her by
her shoulders
and holding her an arm's-length away
from him.
"Yeah. I
gotta go. Bye." Logan bodily moved her to
one side,
then made for the door. Marie watched it
close behind
him, and finally let herself break down a
little.
"Bye," she whispered as a lone tear crept
down her
cheek. It was going to be another awful
Christmas,
Marie thought.
Logan had
just finished his stand in Calgary. It was
Christmas
Eve, and the crowd had been huge. He'd made
a more than
respectable take from the fight, and was
relaxing
in his camper with a beer and some greasy
burgers.
He let his thoughts drift, and it wasn't
long before
they settled on a familiar target - Marie.
She was
too young, too innocent, too pure, too good
for him
and he knew it. What had he been thinking,
almost-kissing
her like that? Even if she had looked
like she
wanted to kiss him back, that was no excuse
for taking
advantage of her. She's still just a kid,
Logan reminded
himself, and even if she's got some
crush on
me like Jeannie says, that doesn't mean it's
OK to drag
her into bed. She'll only regret it later,
and then
the one good relationship - hell, the only
relationship
- you have will be screwed up. No, Logan
found himself
thinking as he drifted off, I can't ever
be with
Marie, not that way.
As he fell
into a deep sleep, the full moon above him
aligned
itself with the stars. The frigid North wind
shifted,
and the snow stirred in its wake. The door
on Logan's
camper flew in with the wind, then abruptly
shut itself.
The noise startled Logan awake, and he
sat bolt-upright,
with claws extended.
"Whoa! Put
those away! I'm a lover, not a fighter."
"Wha?" Logan
couldn't smell or see anyone in the
camper with
him but he was sure someone had spoken.
"Who's there?"
he growled.
"Well, let's
see, it's Christmas Eve and you're a
poor, misguided
soul. You do the math, genius."
"Come out
where I can see ya," Logan invited
menacingly,
straining for the scent of whoever was in
his camper.
"First put
those claws away. I don't need anything
clawed,
thank you very much."
Logan complied
with a sardonic grin. "Fine. Come on
out. I won't
hurt ya, honest......." A low, gruff
chuckle
punctuated the words.
"You asked
for it, bucko."
Suddenly,
something pink and glittery floated before
Logan's
eyes. Before he could process what it was, a
puff of
smoke filled the camper. Choking a little,
Logan waved
some of it away, revealing a bright, glowy
form. "What
the hell are you?"
"You really
didn't get all the traditional books and
movies in
your upbringing, did you? Whoops! That's
right, my
bad! You don't remember. Oh, OK, then,
I'll take
pity on you." The figure stepped toward
Logan and
the smoke dispersed. "I'm the first spirit,
and the
most fabulous. I'm the Ghost of Christmas
Past, my
hairy friend! I've come to visit you this
night, to
prevent you from making a terrible error, to
show you
the misdeeds of your past, to - oh, blah,
blah, blah,
you can figure the rest out, I'm sure."
"You're
a ghost?" Logan asked with frank skepticism.
The 'spirit'
revealed by the smoke was wearing a
rhinestone
cape, white satin pants, and sporting a hot
pink feather
boa.
"Not just
any ghost, mi compadre, the Ghost of
Christmas
Past! Sounds so much more impressive that
way, doesn't
it?"
"Well, seein'
how you're a ghost and all," Logan
growled,
extending his claws, "then you won't mind if
I tear ya
a new one."
"I would
mind very much! These clothes aren't free,
you know.
And tears in satin are just hell to fix!"
"Then I'll
be happy to do it here." The point of one
claw ventured
to within millimeters of the Ghost's
forehead.
He locked his blindingly bright blue eyes
with Logan's
for a moment, then leaned forward.
"Hey!" Logan's
claw had passed through the Ghost's
head, much
like it passed through air. The ghost was
still smiling
at him, seemingly not having suffered
any ill
effects. "How'd you do that? You a mutie or
somethin'?"
"Good heavens,
no! You're the mutie! How much did
they mess
up your head?" The Ghost peered around at
each of
Logan's ears in turn. "There is some brain
left in
there, isn't there?"
"Watch it,
bub." Ghost or no, Logan wasn't about to
stand there
and be insulted.
"Well, you
can't blame a spirit for wondering, what
with the
way you're behaving. I mean really, only the
most hard-headed
cretins merit a visit by the Three
Spirits
of Christmas! You are certainly one piece of
work." The
Ghost tsk-tsked at Logan, who was becoming
more perturbed
by the moment.
"Three Spirits
of Christmas, what's that? Greed?
Fakiness?
Make-believe?"
"Ha, ha.
Funny. You know, since you don't know the
story, maybe
I should lay it all out for you. You try
clawing
the ghost of Christmas present, and he'll sue
your ass.
He used to be a lawyer in his past life,
you know.
That's why he got this God-awful gig!" The
Ghost of
Christmas Past seemed to find that incredibly
amusing,
and he broke down in a fit of giggles,
causing
the feather boa to shake a bit.
"Yeah, what'd
you do to get this gig?" Logan asked,
not really
buying into the 'ghost's' story, but trying
to buy some
time to try to think of what to do next.
The Ghost
immediately sobered. "I broke the heart of
my one true
love. He was so beautiful, but I - I
wasn't ready
to admit who I was, that I loved him. It
broke him,
and he never forgave me." For a terrifying
moment,
Logan thought the ghost would cry. The
thought
of having to comfort what was most likely some
figment
of his own imagination was just a little too
weird for
Logan. Luckily, the Ghost gathered himself.
"So believe
me when I tell you not to make the same
mistake.
Now, let's get on with it, shall we?" In
one swift
movement, the ghost latched onto Logan's
forearm
and gave a tug.
The camper
seemed to dissolve around them, replaced by
the upstairs
hallway of a modest home. There was
garland
on the stairway bannister, and soft lights
shone from
the bottom of the stairs. It was
Christmas,
wherever they were. "Oh, sorry," the Ghost
said, looking
at his wrist. A wrist that did not bear
a watch.
"We're a minute or so early. This time
travel stuff
- I've never quite gotten the hang of it,
you know?"
"Where the
hell are we?" Logan demanded. "Where's my
camper?"
"We're in
Mississippi." Logan gave him a disbelieving
look. "Yeah,
yeah, I'm not overly fond of it either,
but I *am*
the Ghost of Christmas Past, and this is
where Marie's
past Christmases are. Just warn me if
you see
any guys in big white sheets, all righty?"
"Marie?"
That was the one word that had caught
Logan's
attention. "What about Marie?"
"Shhh! Here
she comes now." The Ghost pointed to the
foot of
the stairway, where a small girl of about five
could be
seen running at breakneck speed toward them.
Logan faintly
heard a man's voice angrily calling to
her from
downstairs. Marie kept running, though,
heedless
of Logan and the Ghost. Just as Logan was
about to
jump out of her way, the Ghost nudged him
back into
her path. She ran right through him,
literally.
It was as though he wasn't there at all.
"Isn't that
just the neatest thing you've ever seen?"
the Ghost
squealed in excitement. Logan stood slack
jawed, slowly
turning his upper body to follow Marie's
path as
she fled to one of the rooms and shut the door
behind her.
"Marie,
you come down here, little girl!" The man was
at the foot
of the stairs now. He was red- faced,
obviously
angry. A woman appeared at his side as he
finished
the bellow, placing a restraining arm on his
hand.
"Now, father,
don't get yourself all - "
"Shut up!"
The man roughly pushed the woman away,
banging
her into the foyer wall. "Marie, I said come
down here
right now! Don't make me come up there and
get you,
girl!" When there was no response, the man
began stomping
up the stairs. "I am gonna tan your
hide, Marie.
You come down here, now!"
Logan growled
a little, extended the claws, and
prepared
to fend off this potential threat to little-
Marie. However,
when the man reached him, he passed
right through
Logan, just like Marie had. Logan
snarled,
and stalked after the man as he made for
Marie's
door.
"Come out,
dammit!"
"Go away,"
a small, sobbing voice replied. That
seemed to
anger the man more, and, after violently
jostling
the doorknob, he stepped back and kicked in
the door.
"Get away
from her, you asshole!" Logan roared and
lunged for
the man, claws passing through him.
"Dammit!"
Marie screamed and scrambled for the far
corner of
the room absolutely desperate to get away.
However,
the man was faster, bigger, and stronger by
far, and
he soon had little-Marie by the arm. He
roughly
threw her on the bed, then plopped down beside
her. She
tried again to get away, but he grabbed her
wrist, and
slapped her face, bloodying her mouth.
Little-Marie
screamed and cried, kicked and fussed,
but she
was eventually put over the man's knee.
"Shut up!
I told you to come downstairs!" The man
was pulling
down Marie's tights and underwear,
preparing
to give her a spanking. "You listen when I
tell you
something, dammit! You're not gonna grow up
to be just
like your mother, I'll tell you that!
You're gonna
listen when I say something!" He began
hitting
her, hard, across her bare buttocks.
Little-Marie
stopped struggling but cried louder.
"That's
right," the man said with a smirking
satisfaction
evident in his voice, "you don't fight
me, girl.
You just take your punishment." He slapped
her hard
a few more times, eventually raising a welt
where his
wedding ring met the girl's flesh. She lay
limp, like
a doll, no longer crying. The man gave her
one last
swat, then pushed her off his lap forcefully,
sending
her crashing into the wall. "You stay in your
room for
the rest of the night. No Christmas dinner.
No presents.
You're a bad girl, Marie." She didn't
respond,
she just lay in the corner where she'd
landed,
small white tights still down around her knees
and her
red velvet dress crumpled.
Logan tried
clawing the man's guts out one last time
as he left
the room, slamming the door behind him. He
stood there
furious, snarling at the closed door for a
few moments
before feeling the Ghost tap his shoulder
and gesture
for him to look at little-Marie. She was
lying on
her side, silent tears streaming from her
face, in
obvious pain. Logan crouched beside her,
reaching
out to touch her before remembering he
couldn't.
"Oh, Marie."
"You said
Christmas didn't mean anything to you." The
Ghost spoke
just above a whisper, crouching down
beside Logan.
"But it means something to Marie.
There were
a lot of Christmases, a lot of holidays
like this.
Christmas means something to Marie -
unpleasant
memories, pain, unhappiness."
Logan turned
to look at the Ghost a little. "You
gotta fix
this," he pled. "You gotta help her."
"Oh, no
can do, my friend. This is the past,
remember?
It's done. Finis. It's the *past* - you
know, of
the 'you can't change the past' fame?"
"This ain't
funny." Logan admonished with a growl
before turning
back to Marie. Now, he did reach out
to stroke
Marie's hair, though he didn't know whether
it was to
comfort her or himself.
"No, it
isn't. That's why my job sucks. Nothing to
fix. All
I can do is hope you make things better for
her in the
future."
"Whaddya
mean?"
The Ghost
sighed in frustration. Little-Marie slowly
began to
stand up and pull up her tights. "Look,
there's
a reason the spirits are visiting you. You're
at a critical
juncture. What you do now - you can
make a big
difference in how it all goes down the
road." Logan's
eyes were still with little-Marie, who
had now
crawled onto her bed and was hugging a teddy
bear tightly
to her chest. "You can continue on your
current
trajectory of screwing everything all up and
throwing
away your one chance for happiness or you can
learn from
those of us with a little more perspective.
We are superior
beings of the netherworld, you know."
"Why'd you
show me this?" Logan demanded, suddenly
whirling
around to face the Ghost.
"Did you
hear a word I just said?" The Ghost reached
out a hand
to knock on Logan's skull and got two
knocks in
before Logan flinched back. "I can see that
you're going
to be a hard case. Sheesh. I never get
the easy
ones, do I? Well, you're out of my hands
now. My
job here is done. It's up to the other guys.
And, oh
yeah - one last tip: flannel, the whole
grunge look
- it's over, really over. I hate to
resort to
cliche, but 1992 wants it's shirt back. I
mean, really,
a little attention to your appearance
won't actually
kill you." The Ghost gave him a wink
and swirled
his rhinestone cape around himself,
heading
for the door.
"Hey - where're
you goin'?" Logan followed, but when
he passed
through the door, he found himself in
totally
different surroundings. It was still a
hallway,
but this one was familiar. In another
second,
it registered. "Xavier's," Logan whispered.
"Correct,"
a flat, atonal voice responded from
somewhere
behind him. Logan turned to see a
middle-aged
man dressed in a three-piece suit and
carrying
a briefcase.
"Lemme guess,"
Logan said wryly, "you're the lawyer."
"Also correct.
I perform an additional consulting
role as
the Ghost of Christmas Present. It is in that
capacity
that I am appearing to you now." The man
opened his
briefcase, shuffled quickly through some
papers,
and withdrew one. "Ah, yes. This is Logan
v. Marie,
correct?"
"Huh?"
The lawyer/Ghost
let out an impatient sigh. "I should
tell you
that I do bill by the hour, Mr. Logan. Now,
let's try
again. This is the case of Logan v. Marie,
correct?"
"I dunno
what you're talkin' 'bout." Logan said,
looking
around in vain for a familiar face. Whenever
he was at
the mansion, the hall always seemed full of
people,
usually children. It was a constant irritant
to Logan
in the past, but he would've been happy to
see even
Jubilee at the moment. It would've been
something
based in reality, and something to help
convince
himself he wasn't completely insane.
"This case
is what I am talking about. You, the
plaintiff,
wish to extract yourself from a
relationship
with the defendant, Marie, aka Rogue."
"We don't
have a relationship," Logan said, a bit
defensively.
"Ah, but
you do, Mr. Logan. Surely you realize that
you have
feelings for the defendant, and she for you.
There's
also the matter of certain acts on your part
that prima
facie establish some sort of relationship -
saving of
the defendant's life on repeated occasions,
giving the
defendant your personal property, to
mention
but a few." The lawyer pushed his glasses up
the bridge
of his nose a little. "Do you deny these
allegations?"
"Uh......."
"Mr. Logan,
it is a simple question. Do you deny the
facts alleged?"
"No, but
- but that doesn't mean we have a
relationship,
not - not like that."
"Ignorance
of the law is no excuse, Mr. Logan.
Feelings,
sacrifices, sharing - those all provide a
rational
basis upon which the defendant may - " The
Ghost cut
himself off as he caught sight of Marie
ascending
the stairs. She looked sad, Logan noticed,
very sad.
And she was wearing the same clothes he'd
last seen
her in. "There is our defendant now. I
believe
it is time for her testimony."
"Testimony?
What the hell are you talkin' about?"
Logan watched
as Marie entered the room she shared
with Jubilee
and Kitty and shut the door behind her.
"Language!
You don't want to be held in contempt, do
you?" The
Ghost shot him a harsh, irritated glance
before passing
through the solid oak door. Logan
considered
whether to follow for a moment. Letting
his curiosity
get the best of him, he stepped through
the door.
Marie was
sitting at the head of her bed, holding a
beat-up
teddy bear. Logan noticed that it looked like
an older,
well-used version of the bear little-Marie
had held,
then realized that it probably *was* the
same bear.
She positioned it in her lap to face
Jubilee
as she joined Rogue on the bed, taking a seat
at its foot.
"Oh-oh,"
the brightly-dressed Asian girl intoned,
"you're
holding Mr. Snuggles. That's never a good
sign."
"Logan left,"
Marie moped. Logan winced a little at
the disappointment
in her voice.
"I thought
he was gonna stay until Christmas."
"Oh, Jubes,"
Marie sighed, tears forming in her eyes
and lips
beginning to tremble, "I messed everything
up."
"What's
she talkin' 'bout?" Logan inquired. If anyone
had messed
up, it had been him with the
almost-kissing.
"Shhh. She's
on the witness stand," the Ghost
replied.
"Don't interrupt."
"I'm sure
you didn't, chica. What happened?"
"I - I was
sitting with him on the couch and we were
all cuddled
up under the blanket and he looked at me
and I looked
at him and then I moved my head and - and
I almost
kissed him!" It came out in an emotional
rush, amidst
the tears. "I could've killed him,
Jubes, I
just wasn't thinking. And God, he looked so
mortified!
He got so weird and then he said all this
stuff about
me being only eighteen and I'd find
someone
one day and it shouldn't be like that between
us. I messed
everything up, Jubes, I ruined it! He -
he was my
best friend and I ruined everything!" Marie
buried her
head in Mr. Snuggles as she sobbed.
"Damn,"
Jubes commiserated.
"I just
- I was so stupid! What was I thinking? He'd
- he'd never
want me. Of course not - my skin - I've
almost killed
him with it twice! Of course he
wouldn't
want to be close to me. Plus there's -
there's
a lot of women he could have that are
beautiful
and smart and old enough and experienced and
not all
goofy looking and awkward and lethal. God,
I'm such
an idiot!"
"Aw, he's
the idiot, girl. You're a total catch! If
he doesn't
see it, that's his loss." Jubilee put her
hand on
Rogue's knee to comfort her. "If he
high-tailed
it outta here because of that, I say let
him go,
there's plenty of muties in the sea."
"But I love
him. I want him. I - I know everybody
thinks it's
some silly teenage crush, but I feel like
every single
cell in my body is screaming out that I
belong to
him. That - that can't be just a crush, can
it?" The
Ghost/lawyer leaned in close to Marie, and
jotted some
notes on his papers.
"I don't
know," Jubilee answered. "But I do know that
if he's
not gonna love you, you hafta find someone who
will, someone
who you can love too. It's no good to
just go
on chasing after someone who doesn't want you.
It's harsh
to say, I know, but it's for the best,
chica. You
have to move on." Just as Jubilee leaned
back away
from Rogue, the Ghost waved his free hand
and the
girls froze in place. He turned to face a
stunned
Logan.
"Cross-examination?"
"Huh?"
"Do you
have any cross-examination for this witness?"
the lawyer
repeated impatiently.
"What? No
- no." Logan moved to stand beside Marie.
He bent
down to bring his face level with hers,
staring
intently into her eyes. The Ghost made a few
more notes
on the paper.
"Very well
then, please take the stand."
"Dammit,
talk English."
"You. On
the witness stand. Now." The Ghost gave
Logan a
shove into Marie's desk chair. The girls
remained
frozen. "Please state your name for the
record."
"You know
my name." Logan had had just about enough
of this
- crying Maries, hurting Maries, weird Ghosts
- it was
all getting to be a bit much.
"I would
direct you to answer the question, or I'll
ask the
court for permission to treat you as a hostile
witness.
State your name for the record, please."
"Logan."
It came out in a hostile growl, and Logan
turned sharp
eyes on his questioner.
"Mr. Logan,
do you know the defendant, Marie, aka
Rogue?"
"Yeah."
"In what
capacity do you know her?"
"I know
her."
"Yes, we've
established that. I asked in what
capacity."
The lawyer took a step toward Logan and
leaned down
a little. "Please answer the question,"
he insisted.
"Fuck off."
"Strike
that," the lawyer called over his shoulder, as
though he
were instructing some imaginary court
reporter.
"I'll ask one more time before holding you
in contempt
of court, Mr. Logan. In what capacity do
you know
her?" The Ghost bit off each word of the
last sentence
and was now tapping his foot, awaiting a
reply.
"She's mine,
all right? She's just mine."
"Aha!" The
Ghost actually jumped up in the air a
little.
"So you admit that you desire her?"
"No."
"You admit
that she belongs with you?"
"No!" Logan
rose up out of the chair and began pacing
the room
like a caged animal.
"Get your
story straight, Mr. Logan. Which is it? Is
she yours
or not?"
"Fuck off!"
Logan hurled the chair he'd been sitting
in right
through the Ghost and into the opposite wall.
"It's not
like that! I'm not gonna hurt her!"
"Really,
I'm afraid I'm going to have to hold you in
contempt.
You were warned, Mr. Logan." The Ghost put
his paper
back in his briefcase and shut it with a
snap. "You'll
receive my bill in the mail."
"You goddamn
- " Logan's protests were cut off when
the lawyer
swung his briefcase and roundly hit Logan
in the head
with it. Logan felt himself falling to
the ground,
but when he looked up, he was no longer in
Marie's
room at the mansion. He wasn't in his camper,
either.
Logan rubbed at his head and grumbled before
pulling
himself to his feet.
"Nice place,
huh?" Logan whirled on the source of the
voice, seeing
a Madonna-wannabe girl leaning up
against
the wall, holding a cigarette between her
fingers.
"Hey. I'm the Ghost of Christmas Future.
How's it
hanging?"
"Put me
back. I wanna go back to my camper right now,
dammit!"
Logan stalked over to her to better make his
point. "I
don't care what shit you've got planned, I
wanna go
back right now! No more of this shit!"
"Christ.
Why do they always have to be ranting and
raving by
the time they get to me? You'd think that
just one
would be convinced by the other guys, but no,
leave it
to a woman to do the dirty work."
"Put me
back!" Logan roared.
"No can
do. I was sent to show you something."
"I don't
wanna see any more Maries!" Logan braced
both hands
on the wall beside the woman's head and
gave her
his best hard look and snarl. "No. More.
Maries."
"That's
not what your dirty little dreams say, honey."
The Ghost
of Christmas Future winked at him
lasciviously.
"Besides, this always works. Trust me,
it'll be
over before you know it. Got a light?"
Logan backed
off from her a little and paced. "I
guess that's
a 'no.' Oh well, these things are gonna
kill me
one day anyhow." The Ghost dropped the
cigarette
and ground it beneath her shoe.
"Let's get
on with it, then. Let's just get it over
with." Maybe
it was better to just finish whatever
absurd dream
or hallucination this was, Logan thought.
It couldn't
be that bad.
"Well, well.
Good man, face right up to it. Good for
you. Let's
go, then." The Ghost walked through the
door and
Logan followed. Again, they were in an
upstairs
hallway, but in a spacious, modern home that
Logan didn't
recognize. "She'll be along in a
minute."
Logan knew
who the Ghost was referring to even before
Marie appeared
at the foot of the stairs. She looked
older, with
a more even-toned face and a few stray
grey hairs
in her chestnut mane beyond her trademark
platinum
curls. Logan noticed too that she wasn't
wearing
gloves. Just as she was about to head up the
stairs,
Marie was halted by a tiny voice.
"Mom! Mom!
Can I have another cookie?" A small girl
in a red
velvet dress, the spitting image of
little-Marie,
appeared in Logan's field of vision.
"OK, but
just one, honey." The girl hugged her
mother's
leg and ran off, presumably toward the
kitchen.
"Scott, I said OK to the cookie," Marie
called out
before starting up the stairs.
"Scott?"
Logan asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, Scott.
Kick in the pants, isn't it? See, you
kept trying
to convince yourself you didn't love
Marie, not
that way, and one day you decided that
nailing
Jean would be a pretty good way to convince
yourself
and everybody else that it wasn't Marie that
you wanted.
That plan worked really well. Really
well. Even
after you practically threw yourself at
her feet,
Marie just couldn't believe you loved her.
She and
Scott bonded over lost loves and voila - a
happy home
with two little kids. Want to know what
happens
to you and Jean?"
"No," Logan
replied in an awestruck whisper. He was
still trying
to process the thought of Marie with
someone
else, Marie having someone else's children and
loving someone
else. He hadn't even begun to try to
process
that that someone else was Scott.
"Well, I
kind of have to tell you anyway. That's the
deal. You
end up pretty much a loser. Drinking,
fighting,
fucking random women. No companionship, no
love, no
happiness. About twenty years after Marie
buys it
in some fight with the Brotherhood - an
incidence
that could've been avoided, mind you - you
finally
find a way to kill yourself that works. Jean
- well,
that's not pretty either. She always loves
Scott, until
the day she dies, and she tries to get
him back
after Marie's gone. Scott's fifty-seven by
this time,
mind you, and Jean's sixty-six. The thing
is - Scott
really loved Marie. I mean he really,
really grew
to love her. He thinks it'll be some kind
of affront
to her memory to get back with Jean and,
you know,
he's probably right. I don't think Marie
would like
to look down on her home from the afterlife
to see Jean
in it. Anyhow - Scott tells Jean to take
a hike,
and she winds up old and all alone. She lives
a long life
- she gets to ninety-four before her heart
finally
just gives out. I tend to think you get the
better end
of the deal, actually. All those years of
suffering......"
Marie had finished her ascent of the
stairs,
and she paused at the top, just a hair's
breadth
away from Logan.
"Marie......"
He reached out for her, but she walked
right through
him and into the room Logan had just
been in.
"This isn't
the only way it can turn out, you know."
That caught
Logan's attention and he turned to face
the Ghost.
"Show me
another one, then. Show me a better one."
"This *is*
probably the best one. If you don't choose
Marie, well,
none of the possible futures for her are
going to
be very pleasing to you. They all have her
falling
in love with someone else, and dying before
her time.
See - that promise you made to protect her?
If you're
not around, then she doesn't get protected.
Nasty things
happen. That's the way it goes."
"No," Logan
insisted. "No. There's gotta be
somethin'
else. There's gotta be another way!"
"Well, you
could go back to Westchester and admit that
you love
her. You could suck it up, be a man, and
deal with
the fact that she's younger than you, and
with the
fact that no relationship is ever going to be
perfect."
"I mean
besides me doin' that! Dammit, don't you
people understand,
I can't!"
|