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theycalledmeacurse) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fateandfortune2017-03-30 10:05 pm
theycalledmeacurse) wrote in fateandfortune2017-03-30 10:05 pm
At the Starting Point [For Logan]
"I saved your life!"
"No, you didn't."
Standing there, in the middle of a snowy road in Nowhere, Canada, feeling the cold seep through her too thin layers of clothing, Rogue had to wonder how her life had come to this. Her mutation, her parents, running out of money halfway to Alaska and ending up hitchhiking with truck drivers and random strangers. She was supposed to finish school, do something with her life. Get married, have kids, live in a house with a wrap-around porch where she could drink sweet tea and watch the sun set.
That perfect life had been left behind in Mississippi and now any hope she had of a new one in Alaska was driving away.
But then he stopped and suddenly there was hope again.
"You don't have anything to eat, do you? ...I'm Rogue."
"Were you in the army? Doesn't, doesn't that mean you were in the army?"
"Wow."
"What?"
"It's just that, suddenly my life doesn't look that bad."
"Well, if you prefer the road..."
"No, it looks great. Looks cozy."
"Put your hands on the heater. ...I'm not gonna hurt you kid."
"It's nothing personal. It's just that, when people touch my skin, something happens."
"What?"
"I don't know, they just get hurt."
"Fair enough. So, what kind of name is Rogue?"
"I don't know. What kind of name is Wolverine?"
"My name is Logan."
"Marie."
People would probably think she was crazy, getting a ride from some guy she'd just seen beat the tar out of someone else, who had metal claws and a definite anger problem. But she didn't really have many other options. Whoever he was, whatever it was he could do, she had to believe that he wouldn't hurt her. They were alike, both of them mutants, and that had to mean something, right?
There was a bit of silence in the cab, more comfortable now that they at least knew each other's names properly, and Rogue let it be for a few minutes, her nervous social chatter taking a backseat as she considered what she would do after this. That probably depended on how far he would take her, what direction they were even going in.
"Where are you headed?" she asked him, glancing over with open curiosity and a bit of worry.
"No, you didn't."
Standing there, in the middle of a snowy road in Nowhere, Canada, feeling the cold seep through her too thin layers of clothing, Rogue had to wonder how her life had come to this. Her mutation, her parents, running out of money halfway to Alaska and ending up hitchhiking with truck drivers and random strangers. She was supposed to finish school, do something with her life. Get married, have kids, live in a house with a wrap-around porch where she could drink sweet tea and watch the sun set.
That perfect life had been left behind in Mississippi and now any hope she had of a new one in Alaska was driving away.
But then he stopped and suddenly there was hope again.
"You don't have anything to eat, do you? ...I'm Rogue."
"Were you in the army? Doesn't, doesn't that mean you were in the army?"
"Wow."
"What?"
"It's just that, suddenly my life doesn't look that bad."
"Well, if you prefer the road..."
"No, it looks great. Looks cozy."
"Put your hands on the heater. ...I'm not gonna hurt you kid."
"It's nothing personal. It's just that, when people touch my skin, something happens."
"What?"
"I don't know, they just get hurt."
"Fair enough. So, what kind of name is Rogue?"
"I don't know. What kind of name is Wolverine?"
"My name is Logan."
"Marie."
People would probably think she was crazy, getting a ride from some guy she'd just seen beat the tar out of someone else, who had metal claws and a definite anger problem. But she didn't really have many other options. Whoever he was, whatever it was he could do, she had to believe that he wouldn't hurt her. They were alike, both of them mutants, and that had to mean something, right?
There was a bit of silence in the cab, more comfortable now that they at least knew each other's names properly, and Rogue let it be for a few minutes, her nervous social chatter taking a backseat as she considered what she would do after this. That probably depended on how far he would take her, what direction they were even going in.
"Where are you headed?" she asked him, glancing over with open curiosity and a bit of worry.
no subject
Because she didn't have a way of making money that didn't require selling herself in some way to those men who had hands that wanted to wander. Despite what he might think, she'd been careful in who she chose to get rides with. She wasn't an idiot, she knew that even with her poison skin, there were ways people could still hurt her.
no subject
Fuck. He'd make sure she got a real meal in her, trick her into getting a crappy hotel bed for the night. He could afford that. He lived simply and sparingly, and he'd made enough cash from the fight earlier that he could take care of things monetarily. It was emotionally he wasn't equipped to deal with her.
Rogue. Marie. Little lamb wandering into wolves' territory. Feisty, and he was sure if she kept going she'd carry on, she'd survive - but this wasn't the kind of life you lived without losing a part of yourself, a part that she still had.
Fuck.