(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]

[ she rattles off a list and logan doesn't particularly feel any craving for it. it's not because her selection is poor, he thinks his entire being is slowly coming back from having officially signed off for good. he doesn't know what it's like to die and come back, as the only people who've ever died to return were jean, cyclops, charles ... and neither of them had been resurrected quite like him. ]

[ glancing at her over his shoulder, he then looks above her to the door. her stomach rumbling isn't a loud noise, but if he focuses on it, maybe it can be one that will eventually slow her down. she's moving too quickly for him to keep up; where he's meant to be the one looking out for her, it's the other way around, and he's pretty sure that's not how it's supposed to be. ]

Go eat. [ he looks back at the mirror, seeing all that broken flesh that's not quite stitching itself back together. he knows internally his mutation is busy at work, but externally he looks like a reason for someone to worry themselves sick. it's never taken this long to bounce back into peak condition, even when his mutation was no longer keeping the adamantium poisoning under control. ] I'll come out when I'm done here.

[coercive]

[She opens her mouth to argue, but really doesn't have it in her. He's trying, and she can tell that, and so she lets him have his time that he's asking for. Her hand briefly touches at his as she pulls away, heading out of the bathroom to go eat.

Whenever he does emerge, she's got the tv on and she's pulled the small table and a chair up right in front of it. She's watching cartoons, and is wearing an almost smile on her face as she watches them while eating. A burger is one hand, a couple of chicken strips are sitting on a napkin that's resting on her lap, and her other hand is slowly putting french fries into her mouth.

Despite the noise of the tv, she hears him before he ever opens the door.While normally she might glance back at him, she doesn't pry her eyes off of the cartoon. She's almost afraid to look at him, to see a clean shirt soaked through with blood because he still isn't healing.]

Things are better now?

[She hopes that he's at least able to walk a little better. If not, at least he has a comfortable place to collapse.]

[regenerative]

[ he doesn't pull all the bullets out, but what he manages to extract is more than enough in his books. he stays in the bathroom for a lot longer than he needs to be, fingers gripping the edge of the basin. waiting for that inevitable stitching of skin to patch himself together, he knows he's going to be in the bathroom for a long, long time if his intent is to wait until he's brand new before leaving. ]

[ when he hears the television turn on, he figures he can't hide in the bathroom forever. he pulls one of the shirts she's brought back for him on, ignoring the sting and awful twist of his skin, and finds that the colour does nothing for him at all. although, it wouldn't compliment him regardless. logan's the type of guy to wear leather, plaid, and then a wife beater if nothing else suits. wearing a dark blue is more cyclops' style. ]

[ steps tentative when he leaves the bathroom, it's still obvious that he hasn't quite healed. there's a slight limp, like he's trying to press his weight to somewhere other than his own body. when he sits on the bed's edge, it's slow. ]

Getting there. [ slowly — incredibly slowly for the incredibly impatient, like him. he looks at the television screen, eyes narrowing somewhat as he tries to guess what the hell it is she's occupying herself with. he needs his glasses, or something to make the world appear sharper. looking at her, he adds, ] I'll be okay. [ he cocks his head to the food in her hand, ] You get one of those stupid toys?

[coercive]

[She can smell that he hasn't healed, but does them both a favor and acts ignorant to the fact. His question makes her point over at the bed, where she's set a plastic Hot Wheels car that came as her prize. She's not necessarily interested in it beyond spinning the wheels and listening to the sound it makes as she rolls it over various surfaces, but it's nice to have something other than just a ball to entertain herself with.]

You can not have it.

[She says like he might actually want it, and hops up from where she's sitting. Her agility makes it easy to make sure the food doesn't go everywhere, and it's set aside on the table. Looking him over, she gives a curt nod of approval. The color is good to hide things as best as possible. Leaving the cartoons on the Looney Tunes that's playing on late night tv, she takes her toy car and heads into the bathroom.

Unlike him, she hurries through her time getting clean. Being undressed and standing in water makes her feel vulnerable and on edge, so she washes and scrubs and hurries to get out and get dressed in something new. When she puts on the rainbow stripe pajamas, she stares in the mirror. She looks just like any other kid now, and she's fascinated by the bright colors she's getting to wear. Fingers are raked through her wet hair to act as a comb, and then she's slipping out of the bathroom.

Holding onto her toy car, she rolls the wheels with her fingers before moving it along the wall, listening closely to the sound it makes. She's a little unnerved staying here like this, acting like any other father and daughter might (assuming any other father and daughter duo spend most of their time together covered in blood and fighting to survive).

Not having her shoes on makes her feel on edge. She's not ready to run this way, and the feel of the dirty old carpet on the bottom of her feet and pressing against her toes makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge. Pushing through that uncomfortable feeling, she creeps over toward him.]

We need a plan.

[Even if it's just something as simple as : get the hell out of here at dawn and drive all day, it will help her feel more at ease. For a kid that's spent the past chunk of time running away from the people who thought she had been born to them meant she was supposed to die at their command, she was used to planning and having to figure out the best course of survival. Gabriela had done the best she could planning and trying to get her to her father for safety, but it was Laura who used her advanced senses to guide them as best as an eleven year old could.]

[regenerative]

[ when she leaves to go to the bathroom, logan doesn't move from where he is on the edge of the bed. partly it's due to how painful it is, every bit of him stinging and burning from how his muscles still feel like they're not used to moving. another is he doesn't want to lie in the bed and sleep like an old man. no one's coming for them, as far as he knows, but he's never been one to turn much of a blind eye and deaf ear on anything. ]

[ he doesn't watch her as she reenters the room, silly toy in hand. keeping his focus on the cartoons, he only looks at her when she's closer toward him. it's now his turn to step up, regardless of how exhausted he may feel at the mere thought of trying to pull together a list of steps to action right now and in the morning. he never gave up on xavier, caliban never gave up on him, and he knows laura never did, either. ]

[ it takes him a long moment to even speak, hands in his lap as he looks at the television without focusing on the graphics in front of him. the sound drowns out as he thinks it over, realising that what he intends to propose may not be their best solution, but it's the only one they have for now. ]

I might know someone. [ he sits a little straighter, ignoring the pain that sparks through him. if he says it aloud, he's committing to it. does he derive a sense of purpose in helping laura? he'll openly admit that he does now. he wants to get her to her friends, but perhaps he needs to get her friends and herself another ally firstly. ] I don't know if he'll help us. Last I heard, he was still kicking, but that might have changed since then. [ he looks at her to gauge her reaction, the level of impatience she may feel. ] It's going to be a long drive.

[coercive]

[Her eyebrows raise upward and she gives him a look that seems to ask Someone? It strikes her as funny somehow that the dynamic between them has shifted somewhat, to where he goes from trying to tell her what to do to asking her permission to go on a long car ride.]

Then you will have time to rest.

[The corner of her mouth curves upward, smugly asserting her role as driver for a good chunk of the trip. She has no actual idea where they're headed, but figures he can give her directions as needed. Or at least point it out to her on a map.

Sitting next to him on the bed, her hand that isn't holding her silly toy car reaches out to rest on top of his.]

Who is the someone? He is...like us?

[The idea of being cooped up in a car all day, for possible days in a row isn't appealing to her. But she understands the necessity of it, and is more than willing to put her need to move around on hold so they can get the help they need to stay safe.]

[regenerative]

[ it'll always earn her a reaction whenever she places her hand on top of his. his gaze moves from the television to rest on where her hand is on top of his, before he settles. she's a lot kinder than he's ever been, when he was young, when he was older, even now with all that life experience and heartache under his belt. the people who reach out to try and touch him are long gone, but he supposes that's all changed with laura hanging around like a bad smell and a little version of himself. ]

[ he doesn't want to give her too much information, just in case it gets her hopes up. but logan knows she needs to be able to trust where they're going, or else she'll overtake him, believing she knows what's best when neither of them seem to know anything at all. ]

He's a mutant. [ he's like them, in terms of being a survivor. but he's not like them when it comes to what they are — animals, with claws, agility, and a need to either flee from the pack or find them once again. ] He's not like you and me. He can't heal, and he doesn't have claws. But he's survived long enough that he'll help us.

[coercive]

[No healing, no claws. But he's a mutant, which means he's slightly more trustworthy than someone else. He's a survivor, which makes Laura give a little nod of her head. If he trusts whoever this man is, then Laura will reluctantly agree to at least seek him out.]

We leave when you can walk.

[He can argue and say that he can walk just fine now, but they both know that's a lie, and she doubts either of them are in the mood for bickering over whether or not he can.

She still has half a mind to overtake him later on, and just do what feels right to her instincts. Everything inside her is screaming to protect and keep him alive, but just because she has a hard time trusting others doesn't mean that she's right.

She moves to stand up, so she can go over and fidget with the tv and change the channel to something that isn't cartoons. Without looking back at him she asks,]

The mutant we are going to find. What is his name?

[regenerative]

[ he's glad she's not looking at him right now. he watches her back, as though her hair will be able to tell him something her face won't. he suspects she must be feeling disappointment, either at not being with her friends right now or with him slowing them both down as he had done so before. but he can't push his ability to move any faster, to heal itself at lightning quick speed. ]

[ he can't even give her a confident, concrete solution to their problem, either. it's the disappointment etched in his face that he doesn't want to see reflected in hers. ]

[ he watches her for a moment before he thinks to answer. it's not out of distrust and not wanting to share that he even hesitates, but he doesn't want to commit to something that may no longer be viable. eden hadn't been a concept he believed in, not like she had with her entire being; unlike that safe place, logan doesn't have faith in their next plan of action. but it's all he can come up with when he doesn't have charles or caliban to turn to. ]

You know him as Magneto.

[coercive]

[She looks at him through his reflection that shows up on the tv while she's flipping through channels. There's an old monster movie on one of the channels and she leaves it there; the grainy quality of the image reminds her of the western she had watched with Charles.]

You trust him?

[She knows that name, she's seen him in the comics Gabriela gave to her. She knows what he's capable of. But she also knows what her father is capable of, and that he wouldn't be seeking out a man like Magneto if they weren't out of other resources.

Turning away from the tv, she finally looks at him. If he's worried about disappointment or resentment being show on his face, he might be surprised to see a little warmth there.
It's subtle, and more in her eyes than anything, but the idea of two people filled with metal that can be controlled and used against them visiting a man like Magneto is near comical. Her asking if he trusts the guy is even more so.

He's done so much in only a day or so. Came back to save her, helped her rescue her friends, and died to make sure she was free. Even now, when he's barely able to function,
he's trying. All that matters to her now is that they stay together, and find a way to see her friends again.]

[regenerative]

[ logan pauses. when he looks at her, it's written all over his face what his answer to her question is. it's a resounding no; his expression remains guarded and sharp, with a tension aligning itself along his shoulders. the thought's not one he had ever wanted to put out into the open, but it's always lingered in the back of his mind to see whether or not magneto was still bumbling around, able to help his old friend who was a little too proud amongst his senility to ask for it. ]

[ charles never would've searched for him, either. too afraid, too proud, and too depressed to think his old friend had survived, logan never had it in him to see if the old man could check for anyone they knew. ]

No.

[ a part of him deflates with the answer, shoulders sagging a little. hands moving to his legs, he pushes his shoulders back, as if he needs to puff out his chest and grab all the authority in the room for when he speaks next. ]

But Charles did. And if anyone could survive what happened at Westchester, it's him.

[ with his funny little hat and determination to never quite die. he'd been there, long ago at a time that sometimes feels fuzzy to even him, when the "phoenix" had disintegrated charles. and he'd survived the death of his friend, the almost destruction of mutantkind at the hands of jean grey, other mutants, humans alike. erik lensherr was a bigger cockroach than james howlett, and he didn't even have the ability to regenerate. ]

[coercive]

[She nods, not letting herself say anything just yet. Her thoughts have a tendency to slip out blunt and sometimes too harsh, and she doesn't want to say anything to ruin the peace that's currently between them. ]

I trusted Charles.

[And because of that, she'll follow his judgement and at least give Magneto a chance. If he was still alive, and it sounded likely he was, she figured he was old enough that she could bring him down if it was needed. And if not, then they'd find an ally that could help them. Either way, she'd get to drive and they wouldn't be stuck in this motel for longer than one night.

She looks away from the tv, and idly pushes her car against the bed. Dark eyes glance up at him through the wet and tangled hair that's falling into her face.]

And I miss him too.

[He never had time to really talk about or grieve over the death of someone who meant so much to him. And a large part of Laura feels responsible for his death, for not being able to stop his killer. She knows that Logan feels that same guilt, but he's also not likely to want to talk about this. The only reason she's bringing it up is so he can understand that Charles Xavier meant a great deal to her too, and that was why she'd agree to meet Magneto so willingly.]

[regenerative]

[ logan feels an uncomfortable heaviness settle down on him when she says that. it's as if he has an immunity to any mention of charles by his own tongue, but when someone else utters his name, his entire body goes tense. he doesn't want to hear it. a part of him wants to live in that dangerous denial that this is all some vivid dream he can't quite wake up out of, but he will, eventually. ]

[ the events of that night in the farmhouse are ones he will never forget. he supposes a reason why he's still alive and kicking is because he hadn't had enough time to torture himself with it. ]

[ looking straight ahead, he takes in a deep breath through his nose. once he releases it, the tension in his shoulders only shifting to the sting in his back, he lets himself utter: ] I know.

[ he doesn't need to tell her he misses him with his entire being. she already seems to get that. ]

Charles isn't here anymore. But that doesn't mean we stop trusting him.

[coercive]

[The concept of trusting someone even after they die is brand new to her. She looks perplexed for a moment as she tries to figure out how to mentally trust someone that isn't still alive, but in the end she decides that her trust in a man like Charles can be based on the man she knows he was.

This subject is difficult for her, so she can't imagine how challenging it is for him. Really, she doesn't want to try to imagine it. What she feels is already overwhelming enough.]

We will find Magneto. If he is bad, I will kill him.

[It sounds so simple said like that, with all the confidence that a child with freakish strength can muster. She wants him to know that just because she's young it doesn't mean that he has to take care of her right now. She'll take care of them both.]

Now you should sleep. It is late.

[regenerative]

[ logan doesn't bother to correct her. from her comic books, she has to know who magneto is and why he wouldn't exactly place much faith in her ability to strike him. if she weren't made out of metal, he would bet everything on her, but magneto's speciality is what's always been their advantage outside of their regenerative ability. ]

[ the only response logan gives her is a deep exhale in and a deeper one out through his nose. he's reluctant to move, but he does so, standing up and moving slowly to ensure the bathroom light's off and everything's out of the way on the floor, in case she decides to go for a short wander. it's stalling for time, but it's still something instinctual for him. ]

[ then he moves to the bed, knowing if he opts for the armchair that she'll scowl and even pull him onto it. he may not have precognition for a mutation, but he's beginning to think he knows laura. ]

The moment you're awake, we're leaving. Got it?

[coercive]

Got it. Now sleep.

[She mutters, watching him closely as he goes about the room to turn off the lights. There's only one bed in the room, and she sticks to a corner of the edge while she waits for him to lie down. It's only once he does that she goes about a routine of her own, tiptoeing across the carpet as silent as possible, double checking the locks and pulling chairs in front of the door just as an extra precaution. The bathroom door is pushed open so she can see all the way inside, and once she's done a couple of walk throughs that involve her pressing her ear against the wall to hear into the room next door for signs of danger she makes her way over to sit in the armchair.

She sits there watching him, keeping guard over the room that's become their temporary safe space. When she eventually gets tired, she moves from the chair to the carpet to sleep. The iPod that she had taken from Nate Munson lulls her to rest, the rhythmic beats of the boy's songs helping keep any dreams at bay. ]

[regenerative]

[ logan watches her go about her little routine, thinking to let her know that her efforts are going to be fruitless against any mutant or human who thinks to come to this room. but he figures that'll only disturb what little peace has settled inside of her. gabriela's lifeless expression and the awkward loll of her head may have been a vision that they both share. instead of ruining her little routine of checking everything in this dingy motel room is fine, he lets her be, and wonders if she did this for gabriela before he falls asleep. ]

[ he wakes up earlier than her, and instead of taking advantage of the fact she's not standing over him, staring, he gets up. doesn't shower as he should, not wanting to feel that sting of his slowly healing wounds grow any louder than they already are. instead, he approaches her on the armchair, picks her up as gently as possible without making too much noise, and deposits her gently into that bed. he takes up her mantel of being in the armchair and does his best to keep his eyes open. ]

[ of course they close, but logan finds he doesn't drift off to sleep right after it. instead, he thinks of how the hell he's going to find magneto amongst this swamp of a world they live in. ]

[coercive]

[She doesn't wake up until the morning. When she does, the first thing that she notices is that she's laying in bed and there's sunlight starting to filter into the room. That means they've overslept. Blinking her eyes open, she squints over toward the armchair and takes in the sight of him sitting there.]

You switched.

[It comes out accusatory, but there's not really any malice behind it. It's just frustration, and it leads to her stomping out of bed, which is more comical than it should be with her wearing rainbow pajamas. She stomps her way into the bathroom and slams the door, only to emerge a couple of minutes later dressed in new clothes and ready to go.

Silently, she's a little storm as she moves through the room, tossing things into her backpack. They'll need to head out soon, otherwise they risk being caught by the management of this place.]

Did you sleep at all? Or just watch me do it instead?

[regenerative]

[ at her accusatory tone, he smiles a little smugly. he can't quite help it. having bested her when she's always been a step ahead of him with her sharp nose and her easy distrust, it's a little victory for him to have gotten the upper-hand in something that's so trivial. ]

[ he doesn't respond to her. instead, he watches her, steering clear of her little storm as she sweeps through the room and slams the door. that'd be his cue to get to his feet, but logan stays put. as tired and sore as he is, he finds he's not lagging behind because of any pain. it's charles' words, telling him to enjoy the moment that keeps him from getting up and being a bigger storm. ]

I slept. [ logan hasn't moved from his seat in the armchair. he hasn't really dressed to take on the world beyond the door, either — but, then again, logan's idea of dressing has always been a simple wife beater and a jacket or shirt thrown over it. ] You slept in. You needed it. [ his brow arches and the corner of his lip follows. ] You're welcome.

[coercive]

[He certainly looks proud of himself. Rolling her eyes at the way he looks so pleased, she lets him have this moment. It's not like his letting her sleep really is a bad thing, even if it ruined her plans of letting him sleep in comfort most of the night.]

Maybe.

[Her arms cross over her chest, and she looks every inch his bossy little daughter for a second as he looks over at him.]

But now we need to go. You are making us more late.

[And then she takes some of the new clothes she's grabbed for him and throws them at him, hoping to hit him square in the face.]

[regenerative]

[ she looks like a kid when she behaves like that. ]

Yeah, yeah.

[ logan doesn't react to the clothes being tossed toward him. he catches a shirt, but the rest hit him and collapse in a pile on his lap. they fall to the floor when he stands up, and he has half a mind to leave them there but ends up picking them up from the floor and heading into the bathroom. changing his shirt, he sweeps those bullets he'd left in the sink into his pocket, and walks out, other shirt in hand and the clothes she'd tossed at him over his shoulder. ]

Let's go. [ looking at her, he then adds with the intention to shit stir, ] You're making us late.

[coercive]

[Her head turns to watch him, eyes narrowing into a frosty glare. He thinks he's so funny, she can tell. Angrily grabbing her backpack, she runs and pushes past him so she can try to get to the drivers side of the car first. She shouts at him in Spanish as she goes, more teasing than actually angry. He's heard her angry yelling before, and this isn't it.]

They are coming -

[She notices the manager walking with a couple of housekeepers and a police officer. ]

Mira, look!

[All playing is gone now, as she hurries into the car and slides over to the passenger seat.]

[regenerative]

[ he doesn't march with much purpose toward the truck they've stolen, but his strides are longer than they'd been before. there's still a limp to his step, a favouring of one side over the other, but logan feels like he's a little fresher than he was yesterday. that's a bonus. ]

[ without any possessions to put in a backpack (or a backpack), logan easily follows her to the truck. surprised she's taken the passenger seat, he sheds it quick and hops into the driver's side. turning the ignition on, he looks in the mirror to see where the police and housekeepers are, before he backs out slowly, not wanting to draw any attention to them. ]

[ leaving the carpark, he doesn't hit his foot onto the gas to go fast. ]

We're going to have to stop for food. [ he doesn't look at her, not particularly interested in seeing her reaction to his conversational tone. he's not quite disturbed by the presence of a police officer, knowing that they're ahead and suspecting the officer will be more preoccupied with searching the premises and then their room. they've got time. ] What do you want?

[coercive]

[She ate so much last night that food isn't a pressing need for her right now. But he still needs to eat, and she can't deny the fact that her stomach has a little rumble. So she shrugs and looks out the window, eyes scanning around. There's a few fast food places in close, but she wants to put a little distance between them and the police. Unlike him, their presence makes her edgy.]

Waffles.

[She decides, figuring that if she gives him a specific food he can find someplace that serves it.]

With chocolate milk.

[Her eyes glance up to the rearview mirror as they drive off, and she relaxes back into the seat. She really is too tense for an eleven year old.]

[regenerative]

[ and it all comes crashing back to him that she's just a kid. with adult-like instincts and the need to stay ten steps ahead rather than be ten steps behind, sometimes he forgets she's just eleven years old. logan doesn't remember what it was like to be her age; all he can recall is that he'd been a kid, happy with victor, confused once those claws had shot right through the skin of his hands, and ever since he's been feeling like he's on edge, living on borrowed time even though someone would say he's earned it. ]

[ he thinks he's earned it now, even if his body doesn't agree. ]

Waffles and chocolate milk. [ dryly, ] You really like the good stuff, huh?

[ but it's an answer, and so logan tries to keep an eye out for a place that he thinks would serve it — and have her looking a little less tense. his gaze shifts to the rearview mirror a few times to see if there's anyone following behind them, but finds that there isn't at all. ]

[ muttering, ] We'll find you a place. Sit back and don't play with the lock.