Fever Dreams
Chapter 4
by
Chris



Tired as he was from the blood loss, it was all Logan could do to get the limp body balanced in front of him on the bike. Try as he might, though, her head kept sagging backwards, and there was no way for him to both hold on to her and steer at the same time. Pulling the thin body in closer to his chest, he slowly zipped the leather jacket closed around the both of them. It made things a little tight and constricted his movements, but at least she wouldn't fall off the damn bike.... And he certainly didn't have any complaints about the warm body pressed up against him...

For once keeping the bike well under the speed limit, Logan set a course south and west of Crooked River. He had no idea where he was heading, but one thing he did know was there was no going back to the motel. The third man, the one with the dogs, had apparently escaped and would no doubt be hollering to the police about the two 'muties' who'd brutally murdered his two buddies. Probably sell them some bullshit story about how they'd just been out hunting, innocently minding their own business, when they were attacked. Yeah, he could almost hear it in his head..... Luckily, he'd already strapped his rucksack down to the bike when he'd left the motel earlier that day. He'd learned the hard way in the past that, when moving, keep your stuff with you. No matter if you had every intention of coming back to the same place. Fate had a way of throwing obstacles in your way without warning. When moving around, best to be prepared to keep moving if necessary. The only thing he'd lost at the motel was sleep and the small weekly payment he'd put down on the room.

Logan hadn't traveled more than a mile down the road, when he felt the woman stir. Figuring that it'd be a wise idea to not be moving when she fully awoke, on the chance that she'd panic when she discovered herself zipped inside a strange man's jacket with him, Logan eased the bike to a stop on the side of the road. With fingers slightly numbed by the frigid air, he slowly unzipped the jacket. Just as he did it, the woman let out a groan, her head lolling backwards as she was freed from the confines of the jacket, and he had to put an arm around her to steady her. Her eyes drifted open and for a moment, for one crystal clear moment, she looked up at him with a contented smile that sent shockwaves through his heart. Then confusion filled those amber eyes and she began to struggle and push against his chest with both hands.

"Hey!" Logan said roughly, grabbing her by both shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. "Damn it, I'm not gonna hurt you!" Her eyes looked down at the hands gripping both her shoulders and she stopped struggling, looking up at him with doubt plain on her face. That bothered him. For some godforsaken reason, that really bothered him... "Of course," he growled out, "if I did let you go, you'd fall right off the bike and crack your head open on the pavement. That what you want?" Her eyes stared up at him for a long moment, before she finally answered.

"Who are you?" Her voice was rough and gravelly, as if those words were the first she'd spoken out loud in a very long time.

"Name's Logan," he answered, relunctantly removing his hands from her shoulders as she eased to an upright position before him. "And you?"

"Kiara. Why...." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Why did you help me back there? Why did you risk yourself?" Logan didn't know how to respond to the desperate need for an answer that he heard in her voice. Not in words... With a twist of his left forearm, out slid the claws. Holding them up in between them, he spoke softly.

"This is why." Eyes wide open, Kiara lifted a trembling hand to gently run her fingers along the length of one gleaming claw. Raising her other hand, she popped her own claws and rested them alongside his. Except for a slight difference in diameter and length, they were identical. Two sets of lethal razors that no mutation on earth was responsible for. In a voice that whispered so low that even he barely heard her, she asked the one question he'd been asking himself for the past 15 years.

"Why?"

"I don't know.... I was hoping maybe you might have some answers to that question..." Kiara simply shook her head. As the wind sent snow swirling about them again, Logan became acutely aware of the shivers running through her body where it still rested against his.

"Listen, there's time enough for questions later. We can't stay out here - you know of anywhere to hole up?" Her amber eyes looked into his again and she seemed to be wrestling with something. "I promise I won't hurt you..." he heard himself whispering. She nodded slowly.

"There, through the woods to the east - there's a cabin. It's where... it's where I live."

"The bike can make it there?" After a moment's thought, she nodded again.

"There's a well-worn deer run going through woods nearby. The snow should be packed down enough for your motorcycle to get through."

"Alright." Logan began to work his arms out of his leather jacket and Kiara pulled away from him, startled by the sudden movement. He raised an eyebrow. "Hey, if you're gonna be sitting behind me on the bike, directing me, don't you think you're gonna need something a little warmer than that sweater you're wearing?" She blushed and nodded sheepishly. Without another word, he handed her the jacket and she slid off the bike to put it on. It looked about three sizes too big for her, but Logan decided that he definitely liked the way it looked. The way it hung down to bunch around her waist.. With a swift mental kick, Logan shook his head and motioned for her to climb up behind him. He felt her weight settle down and then, after a long moment, her arms tentatively came up to wrap around his waist and she rested her head on his shoulder. Even with his denim jacket separating them, Logan felt a slow heat begin to rise up inside and he had to fight to keep his voice neutral when he spoke. "Direct me." She pointed to a clearing in the forest wall further down the road, and they were off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The cabin was a small, barely furnished building set deep back in the woods. It had likely been originally used as a trapper's or hunter's lodge and didn't even boast the luxury of indoor plumbing. Instead, there was what Logan assumed was the outhouse sitting twenty feet back from the main building. The cabin itself had seen better days, but at least it stopped the wind and kept the bitter cold outside. It was a one room affair, with a platform bed set in an alcove to the side, a woodburning stove for both cooking and heat, and an old iron clawfooted bathtub in the far corner. As Kiara held the door open, Logan managed to roll the motorcycle inside, out of the building snow storm. Taking a long look around, he let out a snort. Now this was the kind of place he could feel comfortable in. None of that mahogany finishing and expensive vases like at Xavier's mansion. No, this was an unassuming place meant for simple living. He liked it. As Kiara stepped around him after barring the door, Logan caught the wiff of fresh blood.

"You bleeding?" Logan asked, surprised. Inside, away from the blowing wind, the scent was strong in his nostrils and he realized with a start that at some point she'd been wounded. And hadn't healed completely, the way he had. Sure, he was tired as all hell and felt like he'd been hit by a truck (which backed over him once more for good measure), but the wounds themselves were long closed, only a memory now. How the hell had he missed that she'd been hurt... Kiara answered in a hesitant tone, as she lit the fire in the stove and placed a kettle on it to boil.

"The big man, Marty, he managed to get a shot off before.... It hit me in the shoulder. My ability to heal myself isn't very.... fast. It's even slower when I've used it to heal something else." She looked up at him, embarrassed, and quickly corrected herself. "I mean, someone else... Sorry, but I've only ever used it on animals before." She looked down at her hands, as they nervously fidgeted with each other. Logan laughed out loud.

"Well, there's some people who might not consider me any better than an animal, so no offense taken." Her eyes lifted suddenly and bore into his with an intensity that surprised him.

"You are not an animal," she bit out angrily. The words.... the tone... they ran down Logan's spine like an icy finger. He'd heard them before... he was sure of it. Before he could say anything, Kiara shook her head abruptly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.... I don't..." As she stumbled over the words, Logan gave her a reassuring smile and shrugged his denim jacket off. Sitting down on one of the two chairs that bordered the small rickety table in the center of the cabin, he motioned for her to come closer.

"It's alright. But why don't we take a look at those wounds of yours and make sure there not more serious than you think?" After a long measuring gaze, she nodded. Taking a small bowl and a clean cloth down from a shelf, she filled the bowl with the steaming water from the stove and slowly came over to where Logan sat. He could smell her nervousness and fear in the air, and he tried his best to look as unthreatening as possible. With trembling hands, she put the cloth and bowl down on the table and then stood there, obviously uncertain how to proceed. "You'll have to take the leather jacket off, if you want me to be able to actually see the wounds," Logan said gently. Nodding silently, she slowly slipped her right arm out of the sleeve. When she went to do the same with the left, she winced in pain and stopped. Logan stood quickly and helped to ease the jacket off the rest of the way. As her shoulder came into view, he could clearly see the blood and torn flesh through the shredded wool of her sweater, and he had to bite back the growl of rage that threatened deep in his chest. He consoled himself with the thought that the fucker who'd done it was already lying cold and dead in the snow... If he was going to be able to effectively clean the wound though, the sweater was gonna have to go.

"You got something on under that thing?" he asked roughly, motioning with his hand at the sweater. Kiara looked up at him swiftly, and he could smell her fear increasing. "Damn it, it's not that - if I'm gonna clean it, I have to be able to reach it." Realizing that he was right, Kiara again nodded silently. She slid her right arm inside the oversized sweater and managed to slide it over her head and passed the wounded shoulder, to drop on the floor. Underneath, she was wearing a thin strap undershirt and the sight made Logan inhale sharply. Now is not the time, he told himself angrily, as he sat back down on the chair and pulled the other chair in front of him. "Sit." With a grace that almost covered her nervousness, Kiara swung a leg over the seat and sat with her back to him. As that warm, spicy scent again rose up to fill his nostrils, Logan had to fight the sudden urge to run a finger lightly over the smooth skin at the base of her neck. Instead, he clenched the cloth tightly in one hand and dipped it into the hot water. Letting it cool for a moment, he gently began to dab at the clotted and dried blood that surrounded the mess of her shoulder. As the surrounding area was cleaned up, and the wound itself became more visible, he sighed with relief. There were no bone shards sticking out, and the flesh itself seemed to be slowly knitting itself back together. A few more hours and she probably wouldn't even have a scar. No longer so concerned about the wound, Logan still couldn't quite bring himself to stop genty wiping away the remnants of blood from that skin..... His fingers accidentally brushed the line of her neck and he heard a low gasp. The scent of fear was gone now, replaced by something else... Something even more primal, that made the muscles in the small of his stomach tighten in response. Knowing that they were both desperately in need of sleep and that Kiara's shoulder still needed time to heal, it took every ounce of Logan's self-control to take his hand away and drop the cloth into the now pink water in the bowl.

"Finished," he said gruffly. Kiara stood and looked at him hesitantly. "Now get some sleep - you need it." With what looked like a faint, fleeting disappointment, she nodded and started to walk towards the bed in the alcove. Halfway there, she suddenly stopped and looked back at him with an awkward expression on her face. "It's alright - I've slept on floors before," Logan said, laughing slightly. "Got my jacket for a pillow - I'll be fine. See you in the morning."

With nothing but the sounds of the wind outside and the soft breaths of sleep from the alcove filling his ears, Logan lay awake a long time, staring at the ceiling. A very long time...



CHAPTERS:   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22




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