Sapphire Blue
Chapter 3
by
Lady-T



Disclaimer: Not mine, especially the Aerosmith lyrics scattered around. I'm not Steven Tyler and I can't fit a whole grapefruit in my mouth like he can, so don't sue me. Virtually everything belongs to someone else.

Dedicated to all those people I've accidentally plagiarized in some way, shape or form. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. No, really it is. . .




There is no darkness, nor shadow of death. . .

The morning had brought with it fresh chill and a new layer of virgin snow. The beaten and ragged countryside looked renewed and clean, sparkling like a hundred thousand diamond chips floating in drifts.

Logan had risen early, while the watery sunlight was still piercing the early morning mist, and he had been driving for some hours before Lillah had woken.

He'd heard her tossing and thrashing in her sleep, muffled cries and whimpers punctuating her nightmare. When she eventually pulled herself up to the passenger seat beside him she was visibly shaking. He could see the strained expression on her face as she tried to pull herself together, sitting on her hands to hide the quivering that gave her away.

"You OK kid? Ya' don't look it." Logan shot her a glance from the corner of his eye.

"What?. . . no, I'm fine." She swallowed hard to suppress the tremor in her voice.

"You don't sound it neither."

"Really, it's nothing." She clasped her hands together now, inspecting them in her lap. "Just a dream, that's all." She rubbed her forehead nervously.

He turned his attention back to the road and she sat in silence for a few minutes, flexing and re-folding her hands. It was a nervous gesture that gave her away as anything but fine.

Eventually she looked across to him.

"He's coming back, you know."

"Who?" said Logan, shooting her a puzzled glance.

"Him." She replied simply.

"The goon from the other night?" He sounded incredulous. "Ain't no way darlin'. He'd be frozen in the snow by now."

She shook her head sadly. "I saw him in my head last night, Logan. Clear as I see you now. He's going to come back." She hugged herself silently.

Logan returned his view to the road. He felt so sorry for the kid. Everything she'd gone through must have shaken her up so badly that now it was forcing itself into her dreams too. The man, Lance if he remembered his name right, could be no more than a hunk of ice by now. There was no way he could come back.

Lillah began nervously shifting her hands again. She was well aware that Logan didn't believe her. Maybe it was true, maybe he was dead, but it had seemed so real. It always seemed so real. She'd recognised Lance the first second she'd laid eyes on him. He had been scorched into her subconscious by years of tormenting dreams. Last night had been one of the worst, but this morning too, just before she had woken up she had seen him again. A tingle up her spine reminded her of the pain he caused and the fear he brought, like a shadow of something yet to come.

She pressed herself back into the seat and stared at the road flying by beneath them.

The dreams were becoming more frequent now, more vivid. It was as if he were gaining on her, creeping up from behind and ready to strike.

One day he'll come. . .

* * * * *


They pulled into a diner for a meal later that day. Much of their journey had been conduced in silence and other than a few questions about her next destination, neither had really felt like talking.

Logan had intended to drop her off that morning and continue on his way, but it had never quite happened. He had been quietly digesting all she had told him the night before and the more he thought about it the more the anger boiled below the surface of his skin.

He would look across at her and see her hunched in the corner of her seat as if pulling herself away from any form of contact. It tore him apart inside, filling him with the need for something she didn't even seem to want.

Revenge.

The wheels of the camper crunched over the icy surface of the car park, pulling to a stop in the corner furthest from the building.

Lillah stretched slightly and uncurled herself from the passenger seat. She opened the door, dropping lightly on the concrete below, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

She hadn't slept a lot in the past few days and the fatigue was starting to kick in with a vengeance, so she didn't argue when Logan suggested she stay with the van.

She watched him placidly, leaning her weight against the side of the vehicle as he sloped towards the diner in search of take-out.

His form receded towards the squat building on the far side of the car park and, as she saw his hand rest on the door, an image surged viciously through her mind. Her stomach lurched and she doubled up in shock, the force of the image physically knocking the air from her lungs.

She gasped hoarsely, the horror plain on her face as a sensation of HIS pain rather than hers played out behind her eyes.

"Logan, run!" It was little more than a whisper, the air gone from her lungs.

Slowly it eased a fraction, control flowing back to her mind and she screamed the words now, making him turn to her in surprise.

Behind her a figure silently broke away from its hiding in the shadows. It stepped calmly towards her, its footfalls silent.

Logan watched. Even at this distance the stranger's face pulled into focus from its darkened cover. Familiar features were suddenly illuminated by the watery sunlight.

"You. . . " It rumbled low from Logan's stomach as the man paced towards Lillah, long easy strides covering the ground quickly.

She hadn't heard him. As she clutched at her stomach, all she could see was Logan sprinting back towards her, roaring something she couldn't quite make out.

She tried to shout to him, tell him to stay away, but all she could feel was a sharp pain suddenly bursting into her back. She wailed in shock but the sound was quieted by the sudden crack of a baseball bat colliding with bone.

Logan had glanced away for half a second and when he looked back, she was falling.

She collapsed heavily, crumpling onto the floor at the man's feet as he knelt down beside her. Steel glimmered in the brightness of the morning and black-gloved hands began to worry at her back with the blade of a small flick-knife.

All Logan could see was her shattered body on the ground, the man and his steel releasing the smell of fresh blood into the crisp air, oblivious to the sudden speed Logan put on.

The ground raced beneath him, closing the distance with every second until Logan's boot connected with the man's hand. He sent the knife spinning into the snow with a snort of anger. The man recoiled with the pain and in the same movement grabbed the baseball bat he had dropped.

He rose to his feet as Logan glanced at the unconscious Lillah, blood oozing from sore, ragged gashes carved down her back. He turned his head slightly and the cuts seemed to pull into focus. An "M", a "U", a "T" and half an "A". . .

Logan glared at the man, his claws itching under the surface of his skin. He growled, his lip curling to reveal the tip of a perfect, white canine.

His face was so familiar, his name had been scorched into Logan's mind from that bitter night.

Lance. . .

"What are you doin'?" It was more a growl than a question but the man stood his ground, the bat poised and ready to strike

"Stay out of this, man. The girl was a frickin' mutant."

"What are you doin'?" Logan growled again, louder this time, even more of his pointed teeth appearing as his lip curled further in anger.

"Makin' sure the whole fucking world knows, that's what I'm doin'. Recognised her as soon as I see her. Makin' sure everyone else does an' all."

Logan's hand shot out and wrapped itself around the man's throat, lifting him onto his tiptoes.

"I squeeze, you die." Logan yanked him forward and growled, their faces so close he could glare at him eye to eye. He knew he wanted to kill this man, make sure he got it right this time, but Lillah's outburst at the diner the day before stopped him from letting the animal in him rise to the surface.

"Run if you want to live."

Logan pushed him, sending him flying backwards into an ungraceful heap in the snow.

He knelt gently beside Lillah, reaching a hand out to her in the hope she might respond. . .

He saw the knife before he felt it, just a rough shimmer in the corner of his eye before the shuddering pain in his back. Logan bellowed and thrashed, the beast rising to its feet as he tried to reach the source of his hurt, but it was just beyond the reach of his fingers.

"Yeh, I recognised you too, you fucking freak!" The man screamed, thrashing out with the baseball bat, knocking Logan's legs from under him.

Logan collapsed to the floor, crackling pain flowering from his knees.

"FUCK!" he screamed. Bastard musta' cracked something. He couldn't stand. Hell, he could barely even move his legs.

He could feel the blade of the knife still embedded in his back and the heat of his blood as it welled from around the wound.

"You and her. Don't make no difference to me." Sneered the man. "Two less freaks in the world." He viscously kicked Lillah's limp body, his boot colliding again and again with her unresponsive form.

Logan snarled, a guttural growl of pure hatred echoing from his chest.

"Ooh, big noise." The man turned back to Logan and sneered, imparting one final blow to the girl's already raw back. "You got any claws to go with those teeth?" He grinned sarcastically.

"Yeh. . . " Logan growled.

The adamantium glinted in the light as it shot from his hands and he lunged forward, driving the claws through the man's shin as if it barely existed. The man screamed with agony, the muscles in his leg spasming uncontrollably. He swung his bat at Logan's back, twisting the blade in his body and opening the wound further.

Logan gritted his teeth against the pain and, feeling the man's sticky blood seeping out onto his fingers, withdrew his claws. He swiped at the bat, sending perfectly sliced chunks of wood spinning to the floor, and pulled himself to his knees. His healing power worked quickly, but another savage blow from the remains of the bat twisted the knife again, tearing the newly healed skin on his back into more bloodied ribbons.

He threw his full weight against the man's legs and the pair of them toppled to the icy ground, Logan's claws shooting out one more time.

This time they hit their lethal mark.

The trampled snow turned a blazing crimson as Logan heaved himself off the still figure of the man beneath him.

He slumped to the floor, exhausted puffs of steam snorting from his nose and blood gushing onto his clothes as the handle of the knife jutted out of his body.

He had to get the knife out somehow. He could feel the pressure inside his chest as the blade twisted against his ribs, the pain immense.

"Lillah. . . " He croaked hoarsely.

There was no response from her. She lay in a ragged heap in the snow, bloodied scars trailing down her back.

"Lillah!" He screamed again, still getting no response. Holy God he had to get the knife out. He couldn't help her if he lay here bleeding to death himself.

Every movement of his shoulders ripped his back and twisting his arms round to reach the hilt of the blade dug it further, twisted it harder, tore him more.

God, the pain.

He could feel the hilt under his fingers but he hesitated. It was gonna' hurt but. . .

"Pull it out!" He screamed into the silence. Screamed at himself.

"PULL IT OUT, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! PULL IT OUT!"

Fingers curled finally around the hardness of the hilt, and he pulled.

A scream and a gush of blood followed as the blade slid out of his skin, the metal dripping with the hot red of his life.

It slipped from his hand as he toppled forward, fingers ripping into the snow and clawing at the ground as the pain overtook him. His face creased and his body tensed as the burning fire lapped at his skin, until slowly it began to ease.

He lay there, panting, exhausted, his eyes closed for one glorious second as the pain subsided from his torso.

Then he remembered the girl. . .

"Oh no. . . " He muttered "No, no, no, no, no. . . "

Her prone figure was still slumped silently in the snow, the wind brushing over the raw skin under the tattered shreds of her clothes.

He rolled her over and lifted her head up. He looked intently, deep into her face, searching for any sign that she was still alive.

Her breathing was shallow and she lay passively in his arms, her eyes gently closed to the world.

"No kid. . . don't do this. . . " He put his hand to her face and ran his thumb gently along the line of her cheekbone. "Hang on in there. This ain't no way to go."

She lay there silently, breathing but not responding. He pulled her closer, wrapping his fingers through her hair, pulling her face close to his.

"I'm sorry. . . " He whispered. "I should have listened to you. I should have known they were coming. . . " The soft skin of her cheek brushed against his.

"Don't give up on me, OK? Lillah, wake up. . . please wake up. . . " There was an almost imperceptible edge of desperation in his voice. He cradled her limp body close to him, thankful at least that he could still hear her breathing.

Then even that too, for one agonising second, juddered and faltered in her frame.

He grew wide-eyed with a sudden panic, a fear he hadn't felt in so long. "Don't you do this to me. Don't you damned well dare!" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, screaming at her. "Breathe damn it! BREATHE!"

A fire prickled behind his eyes and he choked it back, shaking her again, screaming her name.

For one terrible second there was silence, then her lungs juddered again and suddenly she was gasping for air once more, coughing painfully as her fingers slowly started to wrap themselves around his sleeve.

He pulled her close to him, crushing her to his body and kissing her face in the sudden swell of relief.

He closed his eyes as she clung on to him, trying to stop the tears from reaching past his eyes, pushing from his mind the sudden terror he had felt when he thought he might have lost her.

She breathed his name, pulling herself back a little to look at him.

"You're hurt. . . ?" She seemed confused as she spoke. Half a question, half a statement.

He shushed her and pulled her back into a tight embrace as she pain overtook her body again.

"I'm just fine, Darlin'," He whispered, the knife wound on his back vanishing slowly from his skin.

He'd so nearly lost her. . .

~Not this time. . . but maybe the next. . . ~

* * * * *


"It hurts Logan, it really hurts. . . "

"Yeh, I know, kid."

Tears filled her eyes, soaking out onto her lashes and clumping them together. Her hands balled into fists against the burning pain that spread across the plain of her back, and she pressed her face hard into the pillow trying to keep her mind focused away from the cuts scored into her skin.

Her hair lay in loose strands over her shoulders, the ends catching droplets of blood and spreading them over her pale skin whenever she moved. Logan gently brushed them away, the tip of his finger lightly skimming the surface of her skin. She was shivering.

Blood still oozed from the angry welts etched down her spine, and her bare back was soaked with red.

He gently patted at her skin, the cloth he used soon becoming stained a permanent, hot crimson.

She cried out at his touch, the pain almost unbearable.

He stopped, hating to hear her in so much distress.

"I've gotta' do this kid. You don't want it to get infected."

She turned her tear-stained face to him, screwing her eyes shut as he reached for the bottle of scotch he kept stashed under the bed.

"Best I can do, darlin'." He whispered, unscrewing the top and splashing a slug out onto the cloth.

It burned, it burned like hell, and a stifled sob escaped her body as she bit down hard into her lip to keep from crying out.

She felt his thumb rub across her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had escaped while the other hand gently patted the burning alcohol over her skin.

She lay face-down on his bed in the camper while Logan knelt on the floor beside her. He gently leaned over to finish cleaning Lillah's bloodied skin, cringing to think how much this must be hurting her.

This had never been a problem for him. He healed before he even noticed he was in pain half the time, but the girl. . .

She wasn't hurt bad, Logan mused. It looked worse than it was, and it felt worse than it looked but she would heal soon enough.

She grunted slightly and shifted her position to get more comfortable as Logan gently pulled the covers up over her shoulders to block out the late-night chill.

"You gonna' be OK now?" he asked.

She nodded slowly and stared at his intent gaze for a second. His eyes seemed to search hers for some trace of the anger he felt sure she must feel towards him. He hadn't believed her and it had cost her dearly. Instead there was none, just a faint sense of resigned loneliness.

In its own way it broke his heart more to see that than if she had been angry with him, or even disappointed. She had trusted him enough to tell him her fears and he had ignored it, discounted it as the fevered dreams of a scared child. She had every right to be upset, but her eyes told of just this horrible feeling that she would always be alone. It was a silent expectation that no one would ever believe her, so there was no point in her being angry. There was no fear, just a quiet certainty and total and utter resignation to this fact.

It wrenched in his stomach. No one should have to feel like that.

He'd picked her up out of sympathy for someone unable to defend them self, but somewhere along the line his feelings of detachment seemed to have changed.

As she had lain beside him that night, she had spilled her heart to him in the confidence of sleep, a way she would never be able to do to his face and a way he felt he would never be able to do at all.

As she had spoken something had changed inside of him. Words he didn't want to hear echoed true around his head because somewhere, without even knowing it, he had fallen hopelessly in love with this girl.

And yet somehow he couldn't bring himself to tell her.



CHAPTERS:   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   Epilogue




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