Indomitable Will, Tender Heart

Indomitable Will, Tender Heart - 9

Author: Taryn
Email: Write Me!
Rating: Strong R (language - this chapter)
Disclaimer: Don't own them, yadda yadda. See Chapter 1...
------------------------------------------

"So....is it finally my turn to ask you a question now?" Marie teased. The expression on Logan's face was dark and troubled and she didn't want him shutting down.....not now.   Not when he's this close to opening up to me!

"There ain't much to tell, darlin'." Logan had moved away from her and was leaning with his back up against a large boulder, tossing rocks into the river below. "The only thing I know for sure is that there's a helluva big, fuckin' hole where my memory should be."

"Oh." Marie's shoulders sagged. "Well, then....can you at least tell me what you do remember?" She splayed her fingers, the concern and caring evident in both her eyes and her voice. "Please, Logan?"

He threw another rock and scowled. His fingers dug into his pocket, emerging with the stub of the cigar he'd smoked earlier.   Fuck. I've never talked about this shit with anybody before. I dunno where in the hell to even start. He was used to being confronted with the images from his dreams in the dead of night, but dragging them out for inspection in the harsh light of day - and in front of another person, no less - was something else entirely. He chomped on the cigar but didn't make any attempt to light it, thinking carefully about what he was going to say. Finally, he pocketed the stub again, an unreadable expression in the hazel eyes he raised to meet hers.

"Since we're layin' it all on the table here, I guess I should warn ya that most of the shit I do remember is sketchy, and some of it might not even be true." He gave her a sideways glance. She was smiling, but her eyes looked sad.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably.   Ain't no turnin' back now. Once she finds out just how fucked up I really am, she's gonna take back what she said about likin' me and wantin' to help me out. Fuck.   He growled. The thought of losing Marie - being without her warmth and her caring - stabbed at his heart and made it suddenly hard to draw an easy breath. I gotta stop this feelin' sorry for myself shit. At least I had somethin' nice for a little while.   I'll just hafta figure out a way to hang on to that once I hit the road again....find a way to keep it with me .... He growled low in his chest.   Who the fuck am I kiddin'? There's no keepin' it with me. The 'nice' is Marie. If she's not around, that's it. No more 'nice'. End of story.

"Logan?"

He gave himself a mental shake.   Shit. How to explain? "I --" His voice was husky but at least it didn't crack like he'd expected it to. "I'm -- " What? A freak of nature? A botched science experiment? Could he bring himself to reveal to her that he suspected he'd already been alive more than ninety years by the time she'd been born? That his basic nature was really not much more than that of an animal and that he was probably even a cold-blooded killer as well?

Marie was watching him with worry in her eyes.   Wow, he is really worked up about this. It must be something pretty bad. The last thing I want is for him to feel like he's being interrogated, cuz something tells me he's not exactly a stranger to that. "It's okay, you know." She shrugged, striving for both reassuring and casual. "You can tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I'm not going to think any less of you."

Jesus. His stomach felt like it was tied up in knots and his jaw was clenched so tightly he could feel the beginnings of a nasty headache. Well, it's been really great knowin' ya, Marie. I hope ya meet somebody who treats ya good and you both have a real nice life and all that shit. The very thought of Marie meeting someone made his heart constrict. He took a deep breath.   Here goes nothin'....

"The truth is - I ain't got a clue about who I am, where I'm from, or even what my real name is. I'm pretty sure it's Logan, but I ain't positive, and I dunno if it's my first name or my last. I'm also pretty damned sure I'm Canadian, but I haven't been able to prove that either."

Dear God....it's so much worse than I thought!   Marie's voice was small. "...Wh-what happened to you, Logan?" She hopped down from her rocky perch and came over toward him.

"Dunno." He frowned, not looking at her, his mouth a tight, hard line. "Government, probably. Fuckers got ahold of me and jacked me up good. Gave me the claws and covered my bones with some kinda really hard metal called Adamantium.   I think maybe they were tryin' to turn me into a super-soldier or a weapon or somethin' cuz with all that metal and my healin' factor, I'm pretty fuckin' hard to kill."   And more than a few men have died tryin'...

Marie swallowed hard. That was not at all what she'd been expecting to hear and, for once, she was at a loss for something to say. She thought she saw Logan give her a covert glance, as if to gauge her reaction, and she realized she was treading on very shaky ground. The wrong response from her would probably make him withdraw completely and she just couldn't bear the thought of being the one responsible for that. Maybe it would be better if he couldn't see my face...? Making a split-second decision, she ignored his confused look and clambered up onto the triangular rock behind him, straddling it like he'd done earlier. With his head and shoulders now level with her knees, she reached for him and began running her fingers through the thick hair at the nape of his neck.

Logan stiffened, involuntarily. In shock and in awe, he just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that she still wanted to be near him....touching him, even....after what he'd just told her. Her touch was soothing and he leaned into it, while at the same time trying desperately not to think about the fact that - very soon - he would probably never feel it again. Feeling his tension, her thumbs started kneading gently at the base of his skull and his shoulders began to visibly relax.

"When did this happen?"

He shrugged, a scowl still etched on his face. "Closest I can figure is about 20 years ago, maybe more. One of the clearest memories I got is of wakin' up in the snow, in a forest....kinda like this one, but it was in Canada."   No matter what's happened to me since then, I don't think anythin' will ever erase that image from my head.   "I still had a bunch of shit strapped to me - wires and tubes and stuff - but the only thing I was actually wearin' was this tag." He thumped his chest, the metal chain hidden beneath his shirt chiming in with a muffled 'clink'.

"Can I see it?"

Her request momentarily caught him off-guard but he complied with a grunt, slipping the chain over his head and handing it to her. He turned slightly to watch her as she examined the piece of metal, heated from the close contact with his skin, her brow furrowed with concentration. When she looked back up at him, her eyes were dark and serious.

"So - the only clues you have about what happened to you are this tag and the fact that you remember you were running around naked with medical equipment still attached to your body?"

Logan snorted. "Yeah....well, that and the fuckin' nightmares they left me with." He dug into his pocket and produced the cigar stub again, lighting it this time. "Heh....you're not the only one who got to keep a souvenir."

Although he couldn't see her face, Marie smiled tightly. Running her fingers over the raised numbers on the piece of metal, she queried, "Do you remember anything from before the....government got you?"

He shook his head, despair briefly ghosting across his features before being replaced with a snarl. "Not much. Just bits and pieces, mostly." And the shit I can remember is probably best forgotten anyway.

"Any recollections of family? Friends?"

"Nope."

"Where did you learn to speak Japanese?"

"Dunno." Although Marie could only see his profile, she noticed Logan's face grew thoughtful. "I can read it, too, but I don't think I can write it." He shrugged, chomping on the cigar. "Shit happens like that a lot. Sometimes I just....know somethin', but I got no idea how I know it. I just do."

It was Marie's turn to look thoughtful. "Hmm. What about your nightmares? Any clues there?" She handed the tag back to him, but he made no move to take it from her. Slipping the chain over his head from behind, she started rubbing his shoulders through the leather jacket, noticing that he leaned further into her touch as she did so.

A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat. "I try not to think about 'em." He'd never talked about the dreams with anyone before, and her analysis - even though he could see the logic in it - was making him more than a little uncomfortable. "It's mostly just flashes, and they don't make a helluva lot of sense..."

"But, Logan - I'm sure your nightmares are the key to your lost memories....to your past!" She leaned over his shoulder and he breathed in the fresh, lemony smell of her hair and skin. "Maybe, if you're able to describe a little more of them for me, I can help you unlock some of what they're trying to tell you? The fact that you've never examined them before might be why you're still being tormented...."

He'd agreed to share what he could with her and - as much as he wanted to - it wouldn't be fair if he backed out now. "Yeah, yeah...sure. Fine." He raked a hand over his face, drawing a deep breath. "I-I'm strapped into a chair...I can't move. They musta given me somethin' cuz I can't get my claws to work either. Which is damned lucky for them, cuz if I coulda gotten loose I woulda gutted the fuckers." He growled, even as he snuck a glance at her. She was watching him intently and the look of concern - Concern for me - on her face almost choked him up. "Anyway, uh, there's....people in haz-mat suits, and lotsa machines - all around me. At first, I thought they were just gettin' off on fuckin' with me....you know, stickin' me with needles and cuttin' me with knives and shit....maybe to watch me heal? And, then... I --"

Marie felt sick to her stomach as he broke off abruptly, his breathing ragged. She wrapped her arms around his upper body in a show of support. He flinched, but slowly his shoulders sagged beneath her arms and his breathing evened out. It was a long moment before she was able to speak coherently.

"Logan....where have you been recently? I mean, where were you before you arrived in Cobleskill?"

Her question caught him off-guard - Damn, she's good at that... - and he craned his neck to look back at her, his sideburns whispering against her cheek. "You mean, what town did I pass through last?" At her nod, he frowned. "Uh, I don't really pay much attention to the names of 'em. One place is pretty much like all the rest, as far as I'm concerned."

"So you've been traveling through the United States then?" He nodded. "Which direction were you coming from?"

"Hmmph. Southwest, I think."   Or was it Northeast? All of a sudden, he wasn't sure.

"If you're from Canada, what were you doing down there?"

Another frown.   Good question. What the hell was I hopin' to find down there? "I dunno.......musta gotten a lead on my past, I guess. Why?"

Instead of answering, she queried him again. "Where did you spend Thanksgiving?"

"Huh?"

Marie leaned back, but her hands continued kneading his neck and shoulders. "You know....the holiday in November where everyone eats a big turkey dinner and we all give thanks for the things we're grateful for?"

Logan snorted. "That's an American holiday, darlin'. Why would I be celebratin' that?" Never mind the fact that I got nothin' in my sorry excuse for a life to be thankful for... He couldn't bear to let himself think about how, God willing, that just might have changed.

Marie nodded. "I know. But since you were in the States, you must've been aware of it. Most companies shut down for the holiday, but a lot of other places - like bars and restaurants - do some of their best business because people don't always have family or friends to spend the day with."

She fixed him with a look and he knew she was getting at something specific, but he hadn't a clue as to what it was. Searching his memory, he tried to recall how he'd spent that particular day, but nothing was forthcoming. He stepped forward abruptly, turning back to stare at Marie. The sudden loss of her hands on his shoulders sent a chill through his bones that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"I dunno where I was or what I was doin'. Probably the same thing I always do - searchin' for my fuckin' past. It was just another lousy day to me, anyway.....why's it matter?"

"What do you remember, before Cobleskill?"

"Marie...." There was an underlying 'warning' to his tone, and she knew his patience regarding this particular subject was ebbing. Still, she had to know.

"Logan, please - just humor me, okay?"

He scowled, but there was no refusing those big, brown eyes.   Shit. I'm whipped. How in the hell did that happen? He opened his mouth to respond and was suddenly struck dumb. It occured to him, then, that he honestly didn't have a clue as to where he'd been or what he'd done before seeing Marie for the first time in the library the day before. The harder he tried to remember, the more the truth eluded him and the more frustrated he became. Admittedly, he didn't have much of a life, but now it was almost as though - before Cobleskill - he'd simply ceased to exist.....as if he'd recently awakened from a long hibernation. His panic mounting, he nonetheless recognized the almost ridiculous irony of the situation; the fragmented memories of things that had happened to him more than twenty years before were now somehow more coherent - more real - than his recall of places he'd seen, people he'd met or things he'd done just last week!   What the fuck--?

Then, with a sudden, chilling conviction, he knew: someone had been messing around inside his head......and his body. Things were foggier than usual and they also felt a bit out of place, For him, that was really saying something.

He reached up toward Marie, grasping her by the shoulders and pulling her down next to him. "How did ya know?" His voice was raspy, his suspicions barely disguised.

"H-how did I know what?" Although she made no attempt to pull away, he cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. There was a fierce light in his eyes but she managed to hold his gaze. Their noses were only scant inches apart.

"How did ya know I wouldn't remember?"

Marie shook her head gently, her hands coming up to grasp his forearms, closing around them reassuringly. "I didn't know, Logan. It - it was just a hunch...."

"A hunch? Based on what?" His hands felt hot against her cold cheeks. In response, she began stroking his forearms through his jacket, hoping her touch would sooth him somewhat. Okay, he's really on edge, and understandably so. You've gotta tread carefully here, Marie...   She knew he wasn't really angry at or suspicious of her, exactly. Her scent would assure him that he had no reason to distrust her. Rather, it was as though a lightbulb had abruptly snapped on and previously murky corners were suddenly illuminated. Along with the shock of what was now being revealed was the fear that it would all simply disappear in front of his face before he had a chance to examine it. He was merely trying to hold on to his only link to these discoveries....in this case, the young woman in front of him.

"Um, well....based on a couple of things, actually. For one, if I understand the way your healing factor works, there was definitely something wrong with it when I first brought you home with me. You should've been protected from the cold....not affected by it. And for another, you've described two completely different nightmares to me."

Momentarily speechless, Logan blinked at her, his hands slipping from her face. His expression was both confused and frustrated. "What the hell are you talkin' about, Marie?"

"Well...." she drew a deep breath. "I was only trying to backtrack a little bit - find out some of the other places you've been recently, or what you might've been doing. But when you described your dreams to me, it seemed like they were very different from each other. Something just isn't adding up. In the nightmare you just told me about, you were restrained in a chair and, ....they were, uh, sticking you with - lots of sharp things...right?" At his curt nod, she plunged ahead. "But there wasn't any....Ada-Adamantium being put into you in this dream....was there?"

He shook his head, his impatience - as well as his unease - growing by leaps and bounds. Marie took the opportunity to move along side of him, her back against the rocky ledge, well aware that he hadn't taken his eyes off of her.

She swallowed hard, trying to compose her theory in her head before she gave voice to it. "I don't know anything for sure, Logan, but it sounds like the dream you just told me about may have happened at a different time or place from the first one."

"Even if it did, what difference does that make? He grunted, his brows knitted tightly together. "I already told ya - I'm not exactly a stranger to this kinda shit. I've been havin' these goddamned nightmares for years...."

"Yeah, I get that. But, Logan - have you been having both dreams for years? Or does one seem to be more...recent than the other one?"

He frowned, her question striking a chord deep within. "I dunno." Shit. Now that she mentions it...? "I-I think, maybe, I haven't been havin' the second one quite as long....but --"

Marie nodded excitedly, cutting him off. "What about faces? Are the faces in both dreams the same? Or are they different?"

Again, he'd never really given it much thought before, but now that he was being forced to examine the details, he had to admit that no - the faces, though often blurry and distorted behind their haz-mat masks - did seem to be different from one dream to the next.

Marie chewed on her bottom lip as she worked something out in her head. Damn, she's cute when she does that. Even in his agitated state, his body was responding to her. He forced himself to pay attention to what she was saying.

"Okay....here's what I think: the nightmare you had last night was clearly about the operation they performed on you. The one where you were strapped down on a table and they were giving you the metal skeleton and the claws. Now, even though I'm no medical expert or anything, I can only assume that they would need your healing factor in tip-top condition for you to be able to survive a procedure like that. Wouldn't you agree?"

He gave her a gruff nod.

"Right. But the dream you just told me about a few minutes ago was different. No tank filled with water, no molten metal coating your bones..." she glanced over in time to see him wince. "Sorry - just, um, bear with me, okay?" She cleared her throat. "Anyway, the second dream doesn't really have the same elements that the first one does. What you remember about this one is mostly that you were sitting up this time and they were 'sticking and cutting' you, with needles and knives...."

He grimaced. "Yeah."

Marie paused, narrowly suppressing a shudder. "Logan, I could be totally wrong about this, but I think these things may have happened at two separate times. The first time they were definitely giving you your...enhancements, but the second time - well, it doesn't make sense that they would restrain you just so they could poke at you for awhile."

I ain't gonna be the one to burst her bubble, but she's givin' those egghead bastards way too much credit. Most of 'em have no problem torturin' muties and usin' 'em for science projects.....just cuz they can.   Logan simply crossed his arms over his chest and let her continue.

"I mean...it sounds to me like they were definitely testing you, or something. Maybe they were checking out the range of your healing ability? You know, like to find out exactly how it works? They might've even been hoping to duplicate it...." As she registered the agitated look on Logan's face, the last part of her sentence trailed off.   Oh, God. I've stuck my nose entirely too far into his business. Stupid, Marie! What gives me the right to voice my lame-brained theories about his past? He's already suffered through it once, he really doesn't need me waxing poetic about it now. I'm probably doing him more harm than good. Okay, yep....shutting up now.

He muttered darkly, "Yeah, I'll just bet those fuckers were trying to duplicate it." He clenched his fists, aching to pop his claws. Marie was silent, her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets, an unreadable expression on her face. Logan shifted his weight next to her, the headache he'd been flirting with earlier was now like a jackhammer inside his head. That was another curious thing; he didn't get headaches. Not for more than a minute or two, anyway. His healing factor usually took care of them before they became full-blown....

"There's more - I can smell it on ya." His tone was gruff but resigned. "C'mon....let's hear the whole damned thing. Just lay it on me."

Marie had the increasingly uneasy feeling that regaining his memories was only going to bring him more pain. While she supposed it was unavoidable if he was ever going to learn the truth about his past and attempt to put the bad experiences behind him, she still hated the thought of that happening....and especially at her hands. He'd already suffered so much and yet somehow managed to overcome it....and that was just the little bit that she knew about! Yes, he healed, but that didn't mean he didn't feel pain. In fact, Marie suspected he probably experienced pain - and many other things - much more intensely than the average person because of his heightened senses. Dear God....how much more can he take and stay sane?

When she looked over at him, there was an unmistakeable sheen in her eyes. She was fighting it, but he knew she was holding back tears. He could smell them on her.   Jesus.

"I - it's just a guess, Logan, but I think these people, whoever they are....I think they actually got ahold of you twice. Once, around twenty years ago, and the second time - more recently." She looked away from him, briefly, swallowing hard. "It would certainly explain why your healing ability was impaired, and the fact that you can't remember where you were or what you were doing before last week or so...."

He accepted her theory with a stoic face, gravely weighing the possibility in his own mind. Marie didn't realize she was holding her breath until he spoke.

"Ya know when I told ya that everybody wants somethin' from me and I can't trust 'em? Well, that's the kinda shit I'm talkin' about. There can't be any fuckin' trust when the people who did this ta me....the bastards are still out there, and they could be anybody...." His face was impassive and his voice even, but Marie had a pretty good idea just how volatile the emotions churning below the surface were. He needed time to digest what she'd said - time and a chance to compare it with the memories that he had managed to retain....to see if there was any truth to her idea. She wanted, more than anything, to be wrong about this, but somehow she didn't think that would turn out to be the case.

"Logan....I-I'm sorry."

She caught just a glimpse of the wounded glint in his eyes before he turned away. He looked haggard, as if the wind had suddenly been knocked out of him. Honestly, I don't know if all the caring in the world is enough to repair this kind of damage to his psyche! Please, God....please let me be enough to help him through this!

She noticed, then, that he was sniffing the air, and she glanced up at the ominous gray sky to the northwest. The sharp breeze was picking up and the scent confirmed what he'd suspected earlier, outside the cottage....

Another winter storm was blowing in.

Marie moved to stand beside him, tugging gently on his arm to get his attention. "We should be getting back...," she said. "There's another storm coming, and we really don't want to get caught out here in it."

Logan nodded silently and hopped down from the outcropping of rock, Marie following closely behind. When he reached the bottom, he turned and extended his hand....she smiled warmly as she accepted it while jumping the rest of the way to the ground. Without another word they began walking back through the dense forest and snow-choked ravine. Without realizing what she was going to do, Marie silently removed one of her gloves and reached again for Logan's bare right hand with her left one. There was a brief spark, which made them both start, but he didn't pull away from her and her heart thrilled.   Thank God... She gave his fingers a squeeze which, after the briefest hesitation, he returned, and they continued walking in silence, both of them lost in their own troubled thoughts.
------------------------------------------------
Posted April 2002