11

Xavier looked almost painfully uncomfortable, which was an answer in itself. “I didn’t know,” he said, hesitating on every word. “For certain. But I knew if things went too far you’d probably be the one to do it, to protect others. I was hoping that Jean - or Camaxtli, whoever it was that had control - didn’t have it in her to kill two of the men she loved.”

Logan sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hanging his head low. He didn’t know if there ever would have been an answer to that question that he would have liked. Probably not. He was smart enough to know never to ask a question that you didn’t want to hear an answer to, but sometimes you just couldn’t help it.

“Logan -”

“Don’t. Whatever you’re gonna say, just don’t. I’m not ready to hear it.” He unfolded from the chair and stood up, looking down at Xavier. “I’m done here. Let me go.”

“You have to -”

“I don’t hafta to do shit. Look, I ain’t gonna rat you out to the others .. not yet anyway. You should really contact them yourself, you know? Stop this chickenshit hiding. You don’t hafta return to the mansion, you don’t hafta have a fucking press conference, just let some of the people who believed in you and still do know that you’re not dead. There’s been so much death recently, they’ll probably be relieved.”

Xavier gazed up at him with foreign eyes, and Logan wondered who this guy had been when he was alive. No matter; Xavier was probably pretending to be someone entirely different now. He knew he would be if it was him. “What about you?”

He snorted, finding that almost funny. “What about me? Fuck me. As you said, I got new connections now; I’ll be fine. I always am, right? I heal.”

“Even from this?”

Logan shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care.” That was kind of a lie, and surely Xavier knew that, but now was not the time to discuss it.

“As you wish,” Xavier sighed, standing up. That must have been weird for him, being able to stand after being paralyzed for so long. Hell, he was younger too - that was probably a bonus. “We still need to talk.”

“Some other time. Not soon.”

Xavier held out his hand as if to shake, but thought better of it and just folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t give up on them because of me. I’m not your enemy, Logan.”

“I know. But I don’t know what you are.”

It seemed an odd place to leave things, but Logan woke up back in Bob’s place, feeling oddly disoriented.

Life was just too fucking weird sometimes.

****

You knew your life was permanently fucked when sitting in a dingy demon bar with a vampire and a fallen god - and a pile of slime demon taxi driver and a church leader/alcoholic demon with crystal eyes at the next table - seemed normal. Yeah, that was a bad sign. He hadn’t even included the empathic jukebox.

Logan told them about his bizarre encounter with Xavier. Luckily, he’d found an email from Srina in his inbox this morning, saying she thought she found him but wasn’t actually able to confirm she found him, leading her to suspect he was playing mind games with her. He told her he was, and she could drop it now, as he’d heard from the guy, and he was really one to avoid.

Angel was of the opinion that Xavier was a good guy - sneaky perhaps, but not bad - and Bob figured he was only manipulative, not malicious. “But honestly, you can’t trust psychics,” Bob insisted. “I don’t even blame ‘em, really. I can see bits and pieces of the future, but I try hard not to. It’s kinda creepy, actually. There‘s just too much temptation to play god.” For no reason Logan could see, Bob was wearing a t-shirt advertising “Old Bob Strong Pale Ale”, and he had no idea if that was a real beer or not. He’d have asked, but that would have felt like he was encouraging him.

Angel stared at Bob in that deadpan way of his, pretending to ignore his cup of goat’s blood. “Bob, you are a god.”

“Only in a technical sense.”

Logan rubbed his eyes, and wondered why someone hadn’t made a reality show of this yet.

Telling them had been his back up plan. If Xavier decided to retroactively erase his existence from his mind, it wouldn’t matter - he couldn’t touch Angel’s mind, and he couldn’t go anywhere near Bob. The information was out where he couldn’t touch it.  Someone would always know he was really alive.

Angel shook his head faintly, and looked at him. “What are you going to do, Logan?”

“I think I’m going back to Vancouver for a while.” He’d gotten a call this morning - well, more like a message on his voice mail - from Faith. It seemed that Tony was coming back to Vancouver for a while, and she thought maybe they could hook up if he was in town. It was good to hear her voice again; he missed her. All her issues aside - and what was up with her fucking Xander? She must have been mentally ill at the time - still, she was a lot of fun. He’d been lacking fun for quite some time. “Then I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Say hi to Faith for us,” Bob said, giving him a sly smile before taking a drink of his beer. That was probably an example of his mind reading thing, although he could have been pretending to be psychic.

He grimaced at Bob but gave Angel a measured look. “Mind looking after Rogue for a while?”

Angel almost shrugged, but thought better of it and shook his head. “I don’t mind exploiting the mutant talent pool. It usually surprises the hell out of demons. And she could be really useful, assuming she wants to keep her powers.”

“She does for now,” Bob interjected. “I guess beating the shit out of Reignet changed her mind about giving them up.”

Logan nodded. “Kicking someone’s ass is fun, as long as you’re one doin’ the kicking.” Well it was!

Bob smirked in agreement. “She asked me if I could make it so she could actually control her abilities, turn them on and off.”

“Sure the fuck you can. Do that.” Logan took a gulp of beer, wondering why the fuck they hadn’t thought of that sooner. It seemed like such a no-brainer now, so obvious, and yet … nope, they all missed it. Goddamn, they could all be such idiots sometimes.

Bob gave him a sarcastically arch look. “Tellin’ me my job now, mate?”

“He’s your avatar,” Angel said. “Why not?”

Ah, there was nothing like a little back up.

Logan finished his beer and said his goodbyes, getting on his way. He’d already told Bren not to tell Rogue, that he’d just call her from the road, as he was afraid she might actually want to go with him since she seemed to be in full restless mode. Not that he blamed her, but he didn’t want any extra passengers on this ride.

He straddled his motorcycle and revved it as he took one more look around at the orange tinted sky of Los Angeles at sundown. It was grimy and polluted and overcrowded, and frankly separating it from reality was probably a damn good idea. But it wasn’t typical, which was probably the highest complement he could give it.

Logan headed off down the road, into the night, wondering what new disaster he’d find, and not really concerned about it.

He’d find out when he got there. Meaning, for a long, blissful moment, he had nothing to worry about.

****

The End