(no subject)

[coercive]

[She lets the others go ahead of her. The window to get to safety is so small, but she's not ready to leave yet. Promising Delilah that she'll show up eventually, Laura watches her friends leave. Rictor guides the group quickly, and Laura watches them until she can't see Bobby with his Wolverine doll any longer. When she's truly alone she turns to stare at the grave she's watching over. Day turns to dusk, then quickly to night.

She's standing guard over the man who made her promise to move on and not be what she was created to be.

It's after midnight when she finally sits, resting against her backpack.

She dozes off once or twice, but never actually sleeps. She watches the sunrise over the lake, then sets to putting wildflowers on the freshly piled dirt. Knowing that she needs to try and find her friends, she starts to get up to leave.

The sound of something beneath the dirt catches her ear. She thinks it sounds like a muffled scream. When the dirt starts to rustle, she realizes what's going on. Her heart catches in her throat and she makes a muted scream of terror as she hurries to start digging. She moves in a frenzy, scooping and digging with her hands. She ends up with bloodied fingers and knuckles that heal right away, but the end result is her staring across at a very alive Wolverine.

Logan.

Her father.

She stares with wide eyes, and reaches up to touch at his face. Lips trembling, she tries to wipe away some of the dirt and mud. There's so much of it, along with the blood.]

Daddy?

[It doesn't feel strange to call him that. Not after saying it already. There's not a ton of distance between them, but she launches herself at him anyway, arms wrapping around him in a crushing hug.]

Comments

[regenerative]

[ logan remembers all too vividly what it'd been like to be tossed to the bottom of a river with metal weighing him to the rocky bed. drowning again and again, he'd sworn that would be the last time he ever breathe fresh air, feel the sun burn his skin, would ever be bothered by a man with the most powerful mind in the world. despite recalling moments where blackness would overpower him, logan remembers being awake, confused as his conscious of his younger self fought through and won over his older self. his regenerative healing had kicked in over and over, almost exhausting itself as it fought to keep him alive against the unrelenting water. ]

[ finding himself buried underground doesn't feel the same. he remembers blacking out, losing all focus, the strength in his own hands leaving him. he knows he had tried to grip onto laura's hand with all the strength he could muster, uncaring if he would crush the bones of her own fingers. the lesson she needed to learn was one he only had seconds, if not less, to teach her — and he didn't have charles to help, with his history of teaching, of patience when it came to changing the lives of those around him. ]

[ he'll realise she hadn't listened. unsurprisingly, she's him through and through. ]

[ death's supposed to be final. it had been final. logan knows this as he acts on instinct and claws his way out of the dark. the earth is hard, but the metal in his bones and his determination to see the sun is stronger. once he reaches the surface, he blinks, coughs, and realises the world is white and something he can't quite gain focus on, but he thinks he can feel a pressure on his face. ]

[ his overwhelmed senses focus on the one word she questions to the universe, and that's all logan needs to be able to come to. this may all still not be real, but sometimes those hallucinations are better company than nothing at all. ]

Laura. [ his voice isn't as strong and robust as either of them may remember. cracking from underuse, and his own need to push it through what still feels broken on the inside, it sounds uncertain, yet certain all at once. logan doesn't need to question who he's with. ]

[ he doesn't realise one arm is around her, not as crushing as her own but soft in its hold, and his other hand is resting on the hard stones he'd pushed himself through. ]

[coercive]

[She doesn't register his arm is around her, though she can still feel the way he nearly crushed her hands when she was helping him up and out of the dirt. All she can feel is his heart beating in his chest, and she hears her own heart thundering in her ears. This is a moment that she'll remember forever, she thinks. Even if her blood is poisoned and she starts to slowly die a painful death, she'll remember the day her father died and then came back to her.

It's a good thing she's stubbornly sentimental deep down, or else he'd have come back alone. That thought makes her heart twist painfully and she doesn't try to hold back the sob that tears out of her. She only clings to him harder, crushing him to her.

Eventually, she knows that he needs to move away from the area that he's spent too long buried in. She pulls away, but both of her hands cup his face, trying to scrub away more of the dirt. ]

You're back.

[She waited, and he came back to her. Now she isn't alone.

Her hands slip away from his face, and she starts to scoot back. She motions for him to try and move off of the rocks and the dirt, to sit on the grass with her.]

Ven. Come here.

[She realizes at that point that there's tears streaming down her face, and she wipes at them furiously. The dirt on her hands smears into mud, making her look almost as dirty as he is. Ignoring that for now, she pats at the grass next to her.]

[regenerative]

[ god, he feels old. ]

[ logan used to wonder if the slowness and the cricks and the difficulty he experienced when trying to pull himself off his chair was because of the adamantium in his bones being so damn heavy. the tin man needed constant oiling in the wizard of oz, and logan's always been equated to it by the kids at xavier's school. he wonders how much of that is from the metal that's been poisoning him for god knows how long, or if it's his age finally catching up with him. ]

[ his movements are slow, just as sensation crawls up his legs and to his fingertips. he's pretty sure he can taste dirt in his mouth, but he doesn't pay it much mind. the mud on his face and the blood caking his skin and clothes is only a secondary thought as he pulls himself properly from his grave and sits haphazardly — and uncomfortably — on the stones. ]

[ it takes him a lot longer than he'd like to follow her suggestion, moving from the rocks like he's some broken down bit of machinery sputtering to life every few seconds. he manages, though, and sits himself on the grass, hands bunching what he can of the blades and nails digging into the soft dirt below. ]

[ sluggishly, he wipes his hand over his face, knowing it's only pushing the dirt to sit somewhere else on his cheek. he looks out at the greenery before them, knowing that there's a stench of death and the caking of dry blood somewhere nearby. he can smell it, though his senses are in overdrive, overwhelming him as he tries to focus on one thing. ] I wasn't gone for long, was I?

[ he doesn't know whether to feel disappointed or, when he blindly lifts his hand to search for her own on the grass, relieved. ]

[coercive]

[She feels old right now too. Not in the same sense he does, of course, but old in the way that every inch of her feels heavy and exhausted. Beneath his hand, hers turns so she can spread her fingers enough that hers can lace through his.]

A day.

[More or less.]

Twenty hours, fifty-seven minutes, and eleven seconds.

[If he's looking for an exact count. Which maybe he isn't, she isn't sure. She's careful to keep her voice level, because she can hear an audible tremble to her voice. He needs her to be strong. She repeats that in her head over and over as she keeps wiping at the tears that won't stop slowly streaking down her face.]

Rictor led the others. They are safe now.

[Meaning she let them go on ahead without her, and spent nearly a full day alone out at his gravesite counting how long it's been since he left her.]

[regenerative]

[ logan very much knows she's crying. it's the first thing he can really focus on, but he doesn't acknowledge it — at least not yet. if she's anything like him, showing that sort of emotion makes one feel vulnerable, and when it's noticed, sometimes in the mood to lash out pretty violently. he only acknowledges it with his hand on top of hers. it'd been an impulsive need to find comfort, and he's found her being around seems to give it to him — albeit, he'd learned that very late in the game, the fact he derived purpose from helping her. ]

[ he's taken severe beatings in his life, a lot more severe than what he went through taking down all those men, reavers, and x-24. it surprises him it's taken almost a full day for him to come back from wherever the fuck he was before. with no memory of it, logan's not even sure if he really did die. ]

[ but it sure as hell felt like it. with each x-men member who died, he felt like he knew what it could feel like. ]

I told you [ his voice comes out a lot rougher, almost angrier, than he intends, although when it comes to the tone of it, he has no intentions when he speaks, surprised he can even do it. the words take longer to form than he'd like, as he coughs, feeling familiar, small pressures in his chest. those bullets haven't forced their way out from his body, probably because his mutation lost all power when he … he wants to think he died. he winces, but acts as though nothing's happened at all. ] to go with your friends. You're supposed to be safe.

[ he looks at her, brows creasing angrily. he grips her hand, almost out of reflex, but doesn't tear it away. ]

Why didn't you go?

[ of course, logan's old enough to know the answer. isn't it the reason he overloaded himself on that green juice and came charging in like a wild, angry animal? ]

[coercive]

Because.

[Her voice is thick, and she almost does snarl and try to pull away. The initial tug is there, but she doesn't follow through with it. Instead, she keeps her hand holding onto his and ducks her head so her hair falls in her face.]

You are mine.

[She had just gotten him, and she wasn't ready to lose him so soon. She understands that all things must die eventually, but she wants to be selfish for once and hoard all the time he has. She knows exactly why he ran into the trees to save her and her friends, and why he sounds angry with her now. He cares, and she's known he cares for a while now. It's just been easier for them to not have to deal with the fact that they care for one another. Like it or not, they're faced with those emotions now, as well as the fact that he's definitely her daddy and they both need each other.

She didn't leave because the hurt was consuming her, and she needed time to be alone and figure out what to do next.]

Would you have gone, if it was me?

[Making a sound close to a sigh, she leans over and rests against him. She thinks that maybe it would be easier if it had been her that died, all the way back in Transigen. Charles would still be alive, and Logan wouldn't have gone through so much because of her. Blood binds them together, but she wonders if he wishes that she had never been forced into his life. ]

[regenerative]

[ she reminds him so much of rogue that it isn't even funny. reminds him of victor, when things between them weren't so fucked up. he hadn't particularly wanted to care then, for either of them, but hopping on that train and talking rogue into coming back to the school, and feeling a piece of himself die along with his half-brother's grasp on reality, had proven otherwise. ]

[ caring for people has often resulted in them being hurt, but logan knows the thing he worried about most was her dying on him. there's already been so much death in his long life that he doesn't think he could take another. but he has, over and over, from jean to storm to cyclops, to rogue and iceman, to charles xavier never quite making his way to the sunseeker. but he knows that if charles had anything to say right now, he would've said he died in a place much better than a boat on water. he would've died knowing that logan was okay, and that his own purpose in life wasn't shattered when the mutants had perished. ]

[ it's the reason why he felt it was okay to throw himself into that last battle. she'd found her family, just as he had with the x-men, and he knew that to die feeling like he was home was better than anything else. ]

[ he lets out a sigh from his noise, wincing when he shifts as he feels one of the bullets in his chest move. looking at her from the corner of his eye, he tries not to move the side she rests on. everything feels so worn down and sore he wants to fall back and let the grass take him. ]

[ firmly, ] It wouldn't have been you.

[ the story would still end the same, even if the way it'd played out had more of a focus on the little wolverine rather than the bigger one. ]

[coercive]

[She makes a vague sound, one that clearly says she disagrees with him. Words are a little difficult for her to come by right now, when she's feeling so many emotions so strongly.

They're not in any immediate danger here, so she isn't pressed to make him get up and move. She sits silently, eyes sliding closed. It only takes a handful of seconds for her to doze off, but she doesn't stay that way for long. She's too restless for that.

When she snaps awake, she sits upright, looking all around for a sign of danger. The people that might hunt them are gone for now, and any animal that may be dangerous would be stupid to think the two of them are prey.]


Come. [She moves to get up, and keeps her hand in his. The tugs she gives him are gentle.]

Levántate. Get up.

[regenerative]

[ it should't be such a surprise he doesn't want to get up. when he gets comfortable and begins to doze off himself, he doesn't even want to open his eyes at the slightly sound or movement he feels and hears. despite the twenty or so hours he's had being whatever the fuck he was in the ground, he still feels like he's running on exhaustion. that old body of his needs more time to heal, and he feels like giving it the entire length of a year to come back to him. ]

[ he almost doesn't register her words, not acknowledging her moving from where she's resting against him, and ends up looking at her stupidly as she stands. despite her tugs, logan doesn't move. the muscle and skin where the branch had penetrated his chest hurts like a bitch when he so much as breathes, but he sucks it up, grits his teeth, and shifts his legs as though he's about to move. ]

Give me a minute. [ it's rough again. ]

[ he does, eventually, get himself up onto his feet after a few unsuccessful starts and a lot of stumbling. his hand remains in hers all the while. ]

[coercive]

[He smells like death. Death and blood, and she can feel the pain radiating off of him. It makes her anxious enough that she feels like she might panic. He's not healing like he should be, he can barely stand up.

She grits her teeth and bares as much of the weight as she can, trying to hold him up so he doesn't stumble. As much as she wants to get him to a motel so she can get him cleaned up and get food in him so his body has energy to burn, she knows that isn't going to happen.

Not unless -]

There were trucks.

[Pierce and his Reavers were in them. Most of them aren't operational or even in one piece, but maybe she can find one that works. They're not so far off that it'd be any trouble, but she's reluctant to leave him here alone. He can barely stand, and she's paranoid something might happen to him. If she blinks, he might keel over and die again. ]

[regenerative]

[ truth be told, he feels like keeling over. but logan knows he can't. she might have the agility and the tenacity of a wolverine to take on an army of grown men and live to tell the tale, but she's not old enough to have to experience this. he does his best not to lean all his weight on her. ]

[ he breathes in deeply, exhaling long and slow. it causes pain to spark in his body, lingering for a while before it seems to hum low and waiting, almost like a predator waiting for its prey to move again. standing is painful, just as lying down makes him feel like everything inside of him is on fire. he does his best not to alert her to it, although he knows he's doing a shit job already. ]

[ it takes him a moment to respond. ] One of them has to be useable. [ one of them has to be waiting for them. they had enough vehicles to corner the young mutants if they knew how to use them, but in a rush to try and round them up like sheep, they'd lost any advantage they had on wheels. he knows one of those trucks has to have survived the carnage. ]

You go. I'll be behind you.

[coercive]

No.

[She says it firmly. Pulling away from him, she turns so she's facing him directly. He's her father, and she'll listen to him (most of the time) when he's doing better. But for now, she's put herself in charge. It's her turn to take care of him. ]

You wait. I will be back.

[She points right to the spot a few times, and gives him a look that says he better listen. Reluctantly, she pulls away, taking off at a recklessly fast speed. It doesn't take her any time to reach the area where the vehicles were waiting. It takes her even less time to find a usable truck, and to locate the keys.

The truck pulls up toward him and comes to a stop. The passenger door opens, and Laura waits for him to get in before scooting back over to the driver's seat. Without even looking at him, she puts the truck in drive as soon as she hears his door shut. She's not about to give him time to tell her that he's driving.]

[regenerative]

[ he lets out a sigh, despite being a little more than grateful he doesn't have to make the trek from where they are now to where the trucks are. the land here isn't even. he knows that, given how difficult it'd been running up toward this spot before he took any of the green serum. ]

[ when he hears the engine of a truck approaching, logan pulls himself up from where he's chosen to sit — not a good idea, in hindsight — and looks at her with a slightly unimpressed look to see her in the driver's seat. she shouldn't be the one taking care of him, but he knows he's not in any shape to be able to make sure she's okay. given he finds it painful to breathe and talk, he's no use to anybody when he's incapable of getting out a sentence without flinching. ]

[ he doesn't protest, though, climbing in and closing the door, not hiding how he winces when he's sitting upright against the seat. ]

We need to find your friends. [ he sounds winded when he says it, more like a very firm suggestion than one that's light and welcome for her to rebuff. they need to find her friends not for his sake, but hers. ]

[coercive]

No.

[She flatly responds, sounding just as gruff as he's capable of being. Her eyes are focused on the terrain ahead, but she glances over at him in order to see what state he's in. Realizing that he's worse off than she thought, she presses the gas pedal a little firmer. It's time to go faster.]

They are safe. Hiding. We can't get to them now.

[But soon, they'll be able to. It may be another month or two before the window opens again. He'll need to be able to move quickly in order to make it. Now that she has him back, her need to join her friends isn't as pressing. She knows Rictor will take care of them, and that they'll wait for her there. What's important to her is that her friends are safe, and she take care of him. Her own peace of mind can come later, once she's able to reunite with her friends and show them that Wolverine is alive and well.]

Soon. But not now.

[The terrain is bumpy, and as she speeds over it she feels bad that she's probably making him bounce around in the seat. As soon as they get to a path that looks close to being a road, she slows down enough that he isn't jostled as much.]

[regenerative]

[ her efforts of being accommodating are appreciated, even if he doesn't make so much as a noise — aside from the grunts that he's not quick enough to suppress — to inform her. logan doesn't quite have it in him to express any gratitude, given he's trying to keep himself as still as possible. it's hard, given the terrain and lack of any even roads, but he does his best. ]

[ continuing to wince, as though that'll suppress the pain, he lets out a deep breath through his nose. gripping the door handle, with his other hand pressed against his bloodied chest, he slouches in his seat. ]

You should've left with them.

[ he feels those bullets shifting, his mutation slowly working. it's never been this sluggish before, but he supposes it's only a matter of time before it kicks back into gear. he doesn't think to push the claws out through his knuckles, assuming that pain will be sharper than a branch through his chest. ]

[ his words come out slow, eyes closing, but he doesn't let himself fall asleep. ]

You need to be safe, too, kid.

[coercive]

I am safe with you.

[He had come back to find her, to save her. He protects her even when it kills him to do so. Any remaining doubts she had about their bond were wiped away when she heard him coming to help her, sacrificing himself so she and her friends could survive. She thinks that even if they were attacked now, he'd find a way to save her.

Thankfully, things are peaceful for the time being.]

And now you need me.

[He's not healing the way he should be. Her eyes look at the hole in his chest through his reflection in the windshield. It puts a frown on her face that settles in deep, and makes her look even more like a miniature version of him. All she's missing is the facial hair and cigar at this point.

By this point, the path is less bumpy. So she floors it, knowing that open road is coming up ahead. From there, it's only a matter of driving until they find a place to clean up and rest. They can't get a motel looking like this, so a rest stop it's going to have to be.]

[regenerative]

[ knowing he doesn't have to pretend with her, logan lets himself slide along the seat until his head's resting against the door. it's not comfortable, but it feels like it alleviates any pressure — and it gives his neck a bit of a break from needing to act stronger than the rest of his body. ]

[ while he knows he doesn't have to act as though he's not in pain, he tries to ensure his face is as guarded as he can make it. she's still just a kid, despite everything she's experienced, and what she doesn't need is to panic about him right now. ]

[ she needs to find her friends. but as stupidly stubborn as he tends to be, she won't set their truck along the right path to find them. ]

Yeah. [ he opens his eyes, looking at the road ahead. it's long, flanked by nature. he should be in the city. he should be with charles. it's on a breath he finishes his thought, ] I do.

[ isn't it as charles said? they need our help. someone has come along. he supposes it's only right to let her know she's that person, even though he very much wants to take that pressure to be a caretaker away from her. ]

I don't want to. [ he lifts his head, arching his brow a little. his voice remains rough when he poorly jokes, ] Don't let it get to your head.

[coercive]

[Her mouth turns upward into a little smile. It doesn't last long, but the fact that he's able to put it there at all is impressive. She's calm on the outside, but on the inside it feels like her stomach is doing flips and her heart is bouncing around. It's a chaotic feeling that she's used to, but instead of a fear brought on by being attacked and caged like an animal it stems from a fear of not doing enough to help him.

The next chunk of miles is spent in silence, with Laura focusing on driving. They pull into a run down old rest stop. Motioning for him to wait for her after parking the truck, she slips out and returns a couple of minutes later with an armful of paper towels and several bottled waters. The vending machine they've come from is clawed and kicked open.

Setting the things into the truck, she climbs inside after them, and fishes around in the back until she produces a med kit. Inspecting the contents, she finds enough to clean his wounds and attempt to bandage them if it's needed. There's also a syringe of whatever was given to X-24, the green serum of what could trigger his healing.

She pulls it out and holds it up for him to see.]

Míralo. Look.

[She knows to not give him more than a little a time, enough to help kick start his healing. ]

¿Quieres?

[regenerative]

[ logan falls asleep. ]

[ he doesn't mean to, but he's wasting energy on trying to stay awake when he knows he needs to rest. their bodies may be built slightly different from those around them, but at the end of the day, he's always healed best when he's had rest. his mind is more alert and he feels as though he's accrued enough energy to spend going to bars, causing trouble, or just plain running away. ]

[ when the truck stops, he starts, and he thinks to tell her not to worry, but she's got a mind of her own and a stubborn one to boot. his eyes close but open once she's back. not bothered to question her about how she got any of the junk she's brought back, he lets her do as she wants. it's a lot easier that way than to fight her in a battle he's going to lose. he winds the window down so he's getting fresh air, but he doesn't move from his slouched position on the passenger seat to glance over the shoulder of it to watch her. ]

[ a part of him wishes he had. what she presents to him picks at his heart, and logan finds himself standing at a crossroads once more. he looks at the serum with a slight arch to his brow, expression as unreadable as he can make it. there's no temptation to reach out and swipe it from her — and he wonders if he's even capable of it, comfortable enough to keep his hands in his lap than to move them. ]

[ he shakes his head. ] No. Can't take that again.

[coercive]

[No, he really can't. That's why she asked, to see if he'd choose wisely. After all that he's already taken, she isn't sure when he can have another dose. But she still puts it back in the kit to keep for another time, when he's a little better.

Right in that moment, she wishes her power was transferrable. That she could force his power to kick start and work, that she could make him feel a little better. She knows he's trying to hide how much pain he's in, but she's not good at acting. She can't hide the fact that she's becoming increasingly worried. Her first aid skills are basic at best, but decent enough to try to help him here.

With as gentle of a touch as she can manage, she works around the tattered and bloody mess that is his shirt. With the bottled water and the paper towels, she tries washing him as best as she can. It's no replacement for a shower or using the sink, but he can't exactly walk into the bathroom right now.]

I can get the bullets out.

[But she's not sure he'd really like her method of doing it, which is to use her mouth or her claws. She's also not sure he'd survive the use of her claws. Maybe the best thing to do after cleaning him up some is just to let him rest. ]

Maybe you will heal better....

[She desperately wants him to heal, to see his power working. The fear that he might not is evident in her voice, and she goes quiet when she hears her words start to tremble and crack.]

[regenerative]

[ he doesn't know how this is supposed to go. without the old man around to tell him to breathe and relax, give his mutation time to restart itself and come back to life, logan finds himself directionless. only vaguely does he recall ever having been without it, and he barely remembers how he'd survived then, with little to less no afflicted wounds so dangerously deadly on him. ]

[ he doesn't need to look at her to know that she's not exactly coping all that well. it doesn't surprise him, given she's still just a kid. lingering by his grave when she should've known better had been stupid. thinking she was just like any regular kid was also stupid. instinctually, he reaches out to grab her hand. ] Hey. [ he only lifts his head, feeling like the rest of his body is a heavy weight that can't be lifted right now. (he also doesn't want to move it.) ] I'll be okay. I've been through worse.

[ combining all the story arcs for the wolverine in those stupid comic books together, and that's possibly what he's referring to. he doesn't quite know; reading those stories had made him long for what used to be. but logan knows his mutation almost as well as the back of his own hand, and he suspects it's slowly coming back, albeit much like the old man he is trying to walk from one end of the world to the other — slowly. ]

You just have to give it time. It's working. [ just not in the way she's come to know it — his mutation isn't working as quickly as it used to, or even has it had when he hadn't pushed himself to and beyond the limit. ]

[coercive]

[She doesn't understand how normal kids do emotion. They feel like they're smothering her, choking the life out of her slowly. To care for someone the way she does him, and to worry about his health and safety makes her feel like she's slowly sinking into a hole and can't pull herself out.

But at the same time, it makes her feel alive in a way that lashing out in the middle of a fight just can't.]

You just need to rest. Then it will work better.

[But she can't get them a motel room, and he can't exactly move right now. So they're limited to staying in this truck, which essentially paints a giant target on them. Normally, she reacts to what's going on in the heat of the moment. Right now, they need a plan.

Her hand holds his and she lets him rest, watching him closely. She sniffs at the air to try and scent out any danger that might be approaching. They're safe here, for the time being, and she slumps back against the seat.

She's so tired too that it isn't long before her eyes slide closed. She wakes up hours later, when the sun is starting to set overhead. Blinking her eyes open, she looks over at him.]

[regenerative]

[ rest isn't something either of them seem to do well, but what he's dragged his body through and waking up six feet under knocks him right out. rather than fight her own suggestion — or summation, since it's what he knows he has to do anyway — he gives in. ]

[ he doesn't know how long he sleeps, but he knows it isn't the two days he passed out while in that little hut on the cliff side. when he looks over at her, he finds that she's actually capable of it — sleep, that peaceful thing that sometimes invites the nightmares in. logan stays where he is, slouched against the side of the truck. he shifts slightly to ensure circulation is still working, but he makes no attempts to get into the driver's seat. that's a battle he's bound to lose. ]

[ so, he waits. once she comes to, he's looking out the window, watching the sun and the sky remain where it's always been. ] Seems like I'm not the only one who needs rest. [ he shifts, trying to sit up straighter. he pulls a face and tries to pretend to himself that the mere shift of a leg doesn't send agonising pain right through his entire being. ] We need to go, find someplace else that isn't this truck. Think you can handle that?

[coercive]

[She wants to scoff at that question. Instead, she just looks surly at the fact he'd even have to ask.]

Of course I can handle that.

[She just barely resists the urge to say that she handled it just fine before. She's sure he remembers that, and if he doesn't, then she doesn't want to talk about it. It's easier to just wipe at her eyes and scoot over to turn the keys in the ignition. Action is always easier than words, and she shows him that she can handle what he's just said with ease.

Putting the truck in drive, she zooms down the road. In her head, she's trying to figure out how in the hell they're going to get anything done in the state they're in now. She could bring him to an animal doctor, maybe, but she figures that too many questions will be asked if she relies on any other adult for help.

Laura, being Laura, does something in an act of desperation. Letting him rest slumped over still, she speeds until they reach a small town. Parking the truck in a grocery store parking lot, she breaks into the SUV beside it.

The med kit from the truck is shoved into her backpack, then she carefully pulls him out of the truck and into the new vehicle. Once he's in the driver's seat, she takes off again. This time she drives for nearly an hour, and pulls in when it's well past dark at a seedy looking motel.

Without going to the front, she just uses her claws to break into one of the rooms at the back of the property, then goes back to the suv to get him. Moving him so much doesn't sit well with her, but it has to be done. She can get him into a bed that they'll be able to use until housekeeping comes by the next day.]

[regenerative]

[ logan wishes they were in that bumfuck town with that doctor who was keen to help him. it'd take a lot off her shoulders, and the guy seemed kind of like one of those souls charles would like. but they're too far from where someone would be of use, keeping quiet he's taken in wolverine with his incredible wounds. it's a thought he has and doesn't voice, instead finding himself drifting back to sleep. ]

[ it doesn't really surprise him how easily she takes the reins. if she's supposed to be anything like him, surviving would come to her easily — and it seems to. he barely registers they've changed vehicles, and when they're at that seedy motel in the parking lot, it feels as though it's not real at all. he knows where he is without feeling his feet on the ground, but he tries to wake himself up enough to ensure that he can feel his feet, those legs of his, and try and summon all the power he's ever held inside of himself so she doesn't have to drag his ass to the room she's chosen. ]

I can walk. [ he can't, though. over that threshold and he's wrapping his hand around the doorframe. thankfully, seedy motels are nothing like casinos in oaklahoma, with their long hallways, longer elevator rides, and big rooms. he does his best to try and walk himself to the bed, but he inevitably needs her help. ]

[ and drops right onto it, ensuring he's on his back. wincing, he takes in a deep breath, eyes closed, then opens them to look at the ceiling and try and centre himself. ]