PAIN
Setting: a few months after the end of X2.

Summary: Logan runs after the death of Jean.  Written in Logan's POV
I left the mansion – left the one stable thing I had in my life – a place I really could think of as `home'. Left it to run again.

I was desperately in need of time alone – more to escape the torment of losing Jean – the woman I opened my heart to, was rejected by, and lost out on forever. She gave her life to save us from certain destruction.

More than anything, it's been three months and the school just ain't the same without her around.

It tore my heart apart seeing Scott try to cope with the loss of his girl – the one woman he thought he would spend the rest of his life with and who I tried to steal away.

There were times he attempted to reach out to me, but the words failed to be said. Then again, what the hell would I have to say to him when I am dealin' with my own hurtin'.

Part of him still hates me and hell, I don't have much of a likin' of him either. Then again, I am a jerk and I don't really blame him for hatin' me anyway.

I'm sure Scott will always wonder why Jean would take interest in a guy like me, and I will always wonder if she might have ever decided to leave Scott for something dangerous and uninhibited – something I could have offered her.

I hit the road on Scott's motorcycle. I know he'll be pissed once he realizes I took off on it again, but I really could care less.


I found myself back in Laughlin City – and back to the life I knew before Marie tore me away. She's another reason I had to run.

You see, Marie is a fine girl – and that's exactly the problem – she's a kid. I shouldn't be thinkin' the things I sometimes do concernin' her, but I find that I wish I was more than just her sworn protector.

She is the one I have to give credit to for bringin' out the hidden side of me awakening feelings I had buried long ago. She reminded me what it was like to care for someone, and have someone care for me.

Maybe that's the problem I have with her. I mistook her kindness for an arrogant asshole like me for something more. I wish I could have been more than just a friend. But, damn it, I'm old enough to be her friggin' father and what the hell would she do with someone like me anyway?

I don't know shit about relationships – I know plenty about flings and one-night stands. I've tried, believe me, I've tried but with no success.

But, it don't matter.

She's got her little geeky boyfriend, Bobby. He has taken my place as her protector, her savior, her wanna-be lover.

So, between Jeannie dyin' and Marie, I ran back to Laughlin – this shitty little town where I spent a couple years of my meager life brawlin' in the bar, drinkin' and womanizing. I needed a way to deal with the pain.

I remembered every detail of the small town – it was as close to a home as I could have had. But, you really can't call livin' out of a camper home. And right now, I don't even have that. It's just me and the bike and sleepin' in the snow if that's what it takes, unless my charmin' good looks find me some lonely soul willin' to share a bed with me.

My gut is craving a beer right now and off I go inside.

I know I will probably have my ass tossed out. Last time I was here, old Mac told me never to come back since I am a mutant – I think he referred to me as `freak' - and I almost killed a man because he knew it.

The place was still the same dive – drunken people everywhere, scantily clad women looking for lonely men, and the cage – the cage where I was the brawlin' champion and earned a meager livin'.

I recalled the typical sounds of people wailing out loud cheers for the fighters. I remember the smells and the dim lighting - the damned place still looked the same - for the most part.

I walk up to the bar and ask for a beer. Old Mac remembers me and hesitates to hand over the bottle. Maybe he was afraid I would spring my claws on him. But, alas, Old Mac bid a hello. He tells me the place ain't been the same since I left, leavin' me to assume he's been steadily losing' money on them cage fights.

What good was it without the King of the Cage – the Wolverine? I never lost and was the house's sure bet to win.

A band played off to the side of the bar - well, this is new – and more my style of music.  Beats out that Pop music crap them kids at the school listen to.

"So, Wolverine.  What do ya think of my place?" Mac asks.

I look around and am not impressed with the joint.  It still stinks like drunken assholes, blood, sweat, and way too much booze.

"I fixed it up a little bit.  Even got me a little stage for entertainment," Mac says trying to sound enthusiastic.

I look around again and yeah I can see a few small things and sure there's the stage.  I can also sense Violet watching me with her deep stare and I try to ignore it by askin' for another beer.

"What's wrong, Wolvie darling? You look so forlorn – you got troubles? I think I know what you need, darlin'," Violet says placing her hand on my shoulder.

I didn't answer – Violet ain't my type of woman, especially since she's married to Mac, and let's face it – I just ain't in the mood.

I lit up a cigar and began puffing away on it, in between hits from my beer. I'm feelin' the urge to ask for somethin' harder – somethin' I can loose myself in and forget the hell I am livin' right now. So, I order up another beer and a shot of whiskey.

"Hey, girls, play something soulful for Wolvie," I hear Violet say.

The lead singer looks over to me.

"I'll assume it's woman troubles by that look on yer face," she says in a cute New York accent.

I feel absorbed in the tune and listen to all the words of the song.  Her voice was pleasing – fillin' my ears with lyrics of having to let go of love. Somehow I feel a little enlightened. The words she sang and the way she sang it seemed like she was singin' only for me and she seemed so sincere.

Without any hesitation, I get up and go sit closer by the stage.  I begin to wonder why anyone would want me – them words Jean said to me privately about being dangerous and only for flirtin' with swam around in my now intoxicated brain. Jean, young Rogue and Professor Xavier were the only ones who really accepted me as a mutant.

Oddly enough here at the bar, I can just barely pick up the scent of a mutant – it is a scent that's very different from regular people.  But, my senses are a bit impaired and I cannot make out from where exactly it is comin'from.

Now, I hear the crowd screaming in unison as the current cage champion put down another opponent.

"Hey, how about a bout in the cage for old times sake? You can have free beer all night," Mac begged me.

"Free beer and what else?" I snorted before taking another long drag on my cigar.

"OK – all of tonight's tips and half of the bets," Mac answered.

Yeah, I drive a hard bargain. But, if I am gonna get into that cage again and get beaten on then it's gotta be worth my while. I downed my beer without taking a breath, put out my cigar, and left for the cage.

I can hear Mac whisper to Violet, "Guess that means yes."

"Never in my day did I see a man of the likes of this feller. He is undefeated – unstoppable. He returns to Laughlin City to reclaim his title of King of the Cage," the ring announcer said.

The bar erupts with the roars of drunken men all awaiting the match fight between some dumb schmuck and me. The funny thing was the current ring champ was none other than Stu.

"Back to challenge me? I'm gonna take yer head off," Stu said.

Just for the hell of it, I stand my ground and let Stu beat on me – it was like a repeat performance of the last time I faced Stu - taking several kicks and punches to my body, sending me down on my knees.

It felt good to be beaten – I liked the pain and I begged him to punch me some more. Stu was lookin' at me funny. He musta been wonderin' what the hell was wrong with me.

Yes, I wanted pain and lots of it and if he didn't give it to me, then I was just gonna go find a dark corner some where, get shit-faced and then pick on someone until they beat on me.

He throws a few punches and I take them without fightin' back.

Hurt me; hurt me bad for bein' a jackass and tryin' to steal Jeannie away from Scott.

Hurt me more for the sick disgustin' thoughts I had about Marie. I should be beaten to within an inch of death just for those thoughts alone.

Stu throws a right hook to my jaw and I land on the floor on my back. I lay there thinkin' about all the hell I am puttin' myself through. I hear everyone yellin' that I been defeated and I look around as they begin to exchange money.

I get up a snarling and everyone stops – I ain't out of it yet.

That's when I notice the band's lead singer leanin' on the cage. Her friend is behind her with a look lacking any enthusiasm.

But, she's lookin' at me – I don't know why.

Is it my dashin' good looks? Maybe it's the heavy biceps and broad chest? No, maybe she just likes the feral animal personality.
I dunno, but she wouldn't stop starin' and I was stupid for starin' back – Stu went for broke and nailed me in my crotch – again – the one place I hate bein' hit and I can feel my berserker rage kicking up as I got to my feet.

I felt Wolverine take over and pummel him with several hard blows from hands that contained metal. Stu fell right out of the cage and into the crowd. I think he pissed me off so bad I might have actually killed him if I went at him any more.

I listened to the crowd roar hateful things at me and all I could do was snarl back at them - just like the feral animal I am. And, I was hankering for another bout. The release of anger felt so good – the pain felt good and I wanted more. But, no one else dared get into the ring.

"Here he is – the returning champion and King of the Cage – the Wolverine," Mac announced before both he and I exit the cage.

I didn't want to be the new champ. I just wanted someone to kick my ass. But, as I step out of the cage I stop for just a second catching that unusual scent in the smoke-filled air before continuing on.

I return to the bar after showerin' up. I sit down and order up a beer and a bottle of whiskey. I glance off to the side – Mac and
Violet are there chattin' with her and her friend.

I down my beer and start working on the whiskey. The pain from fightin' had all but worn off and I wasn't happy. I wished I could die right now.

My sharp hearin' catches the sound of a camera shutter goin' off and I look over and she's obviously taken my picture. She looks away to her friend tryin' to hide from the deed she did.

The two women look as if they are softly arguing and after a moment, I hear her approachin'.

I didn't need to look up – I could smell the scent of leather and her light vanilla perfume filling my nostrils – the same scents I picked up on earlier as I passed by her after the fight.

And, there is something else I am too drunk to pick up on right now.

I really ain't in the mood for company, but curiosity and interest got the best of me and I opted to raise my eyes to her. I can't say I looked too enticing – I was really unhappy.

She hopped up onto the bar stool next to me, camera in hand, and she leaned into me surprisin' me with a delicate kiss on my cheek.

"I hope that cheers you up. I know who you are and I think you're cool. Do you mind if I take a candid shot?" she whispers to me in that New York accent.

I look her over – she's dressed all in black leather and her hair cascaded down in waves of mixed browns and golds. And that body – she was all woman, with perky full breasts and hips I could just hold onto and grind into all night long. I won't apologize for undressin' her with my eyes.  If I was feelin' a little better, I would just screw her right here.

Then, I realize the scent I was tryin' to decipher – that of a mutant. She's a mutant – like me.

"If it makes you happy," I respond and she took a picture of me leaning against the bar puffing away on my cigar.

I was tryin' to hide the solemn look on my face – hidin' it with furrowed brows, lengthy sideburns, and a hateful stare.

"Hey, something's buggin' you. Wanna chat about it?" she asks me.

Wow. Nothing like askin' a total stranger what's on his mind. I look into her eyes – her big expressive brown eyes that make me wanna to melt.

Bein' a survivor, talkin' about my troubles ain't what I want to do.  But, somehow I change my mind feelin' like I need to talk. So, bad ass Logan rises and takes her hand leadin' her over to a free booth way in the back and out of sight. I hesitate at first, but then I let it go.

"She died a few months back," I start.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she says with surprise. "You and her were close?"

"It's not what you think. I would have liked it to be, but she was involved with someone else," I reply.

"Oh. Well, it's gonna take time to heal that pain. It's ok, I understand. I'm sorry if I got pushy at all," she says and lightly
squeezes my hand.

"No, you haven't been pushy. I guess what bothers me most of all is that I will never be able to tell her how I really felt. And, I wish I could have done something to save her life," I say.

I explain what had happened that fateful day at Alkali Lake and the tension that continued between Scott and me. I try to hide the pain in my heart but my voice trembles as I speak. I can tell she could sense how bad I am hurtin' since she took hold of both my hands in hers.

"She chose to give her life to save all of yours – an honorable thing to do when all other attempts failed," she said.

"As for Scott, you gotta realize he's never gonna be totally cool with you – you wanted his girl," she added.

I knew she was right. I looked away feelin' tears wellin' up in my eyes. Just what Wolverine needs to do in front of a bunch of drunken jerks – cry.

She gets up and slides onto the seat near me, and that's when I felt her arm drape around my shoulder pullin' me close.

"Hey, let it go. Here's my shoulder if it makes you feel better to cry. I won't tell anyone," she said.

I snickered and sniffed then inhaled deeply fightin' back that urge.

"Thanks fer listenin'," I say. After that, she got up and went back to her friend.

It was then that the booze started to really wear off. I can't retain a hangover for long – a curse with this healin' thing I got.

Something struck me funny though. Bein' that close to her I finally realized what it was I was sensing – it was something primal – I sensed she was feral, untamed and animal, but having the gentle softness and sweetness of a good woman.

Maybe it's the booze cloudin' my better judgment.  Maybe I'm just getting a little horny after all.  But, when I looked back, she and her friends had gone.

I ran outside – or maybe a better description is that I stumbled outside.  I sniffed the brisk night air hoping to pick up her scent.
I realized I didn't even get her name.  But, all I could smell was a light hint of vanilla perfume and car exhaust, and I go away with the thought that only time will heal my pain – and I got plenty of that.