xp_logs | Logan and Marie; My Bags Are Packed

Friday afternoon, after classes, Logan goes to find Marie. (Set after this and before this.)

Logan headed upstairs, still kicking snow off his boots from the South Garden. Marie ought to be in her room by now; maybe she'd want to go out for dinner. Her door was partly open, which was normal for this time of day. He leaned on the wall and tapped on the door frame. His foot nudged the door and his eyes narrowed. There were boxes stacked neatly just inside the door.

"Marie?"

Marie folded her last shirt and dropped it into her suitcase. Being tidy had its advantages. Packing had been exceptionally easy. Of course, she'd boxed all her books first, over the lunch hour, and her clothes had only taken a half hour after classes. She wasn't sure whether to be sad or pleased about the speed with which she was able to collect the pieces of her life.

"In here," she called, when she heard Logan's voice. She felt a pang of guilt at not telling him of her decision yet, but he could catch up with her later if he wanted. She just had to get out from the walls and gates and squabbling and aimlessness before she lost her mind.

He walked inside and around to the bedroom door. Leaning on the door frame, he surveyed the room. "Where we goin'?" he asked dryly.

"Away." Marie zipped up her suitcase and set it by the door then took a look around, locating a list lying on the dresser and picking it up. "I rented a car, it was dropped off around two. I'm packed, and now I have to email Amanda and Warren to see if he'll take over my flying lesson with her tonight and then I have to print out my resignation letter for Charles." She brushed past him on her way out to her computer.

"A'right. Give me ten minutes to pack?" He watched her sit down in front of the computer, a little confused by this turn of events, and shifted gears. "What happened?"

"Everything," she said calmly, as though it were explanation enough. Then she shifted to look over her shoulder at him. "I'm eighteen years old, Logan. Two years ago I made the cheerleading squad and got my driver's license in my daddy's car. Today I had a fight on the staff journal of a private school with a giant, angry war veteran about whether or not it's right to allow traumatized mutant children to learn how to handle firearms. And I was arguing /for/ allowing them to learn. I have Eric Lenscher in my head, I'm on a military watch list, I kill people without thinking twice about it, and I can barely get through a day without screaming. I can't do this anymore. I quit."

He winced in response to the reminder of her youth, but this really didn't seem like the time to have a good freak-out about it. He took a breath and focused on the situation at hand. It was good to be an adult, every now and then. "Let's get out of here, then. But." He held up a hand. "Let's try a weekend. If that's not enough, if y'still aren't ready t'come back, we won't. But don't quit yet."

"/Don't quit?/" Marie got hold of her temper, but barely, before she started yelling at Logan. "Going away for the weekend isn't going to help anything. It's not going to make me not be me, it's not going to make this place not be a madhouse when we come back, it's not going to make anything better."

"This place is /never/ not gonna be a madhouse." He shook his head. "But y'need time away. Mebbe y'need t'not be here anymore, ever, but you're not gonna know that 'til you get away for a little while, get your focus back."

Marie curled up, resting her head on her knees, and burst into tears. "...I want to go /home/."

At the first sign of tears, Logan was kneeling beside her, one hand on her back, the other on her legs. "I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. She couldn't go home, not to her parents.

"People keep saying, 'If you don't like it, then go home,' and I can't. Some of us /can't/," she sobbed. "And I don't even mean just home to Mama and Daddy. I mean... any home. This is all there is and it's not my home, I just live here. I tried, but it's just not right."

"People are fuckin' stupid." Logan said bluntly. This was home to so many of the people who lived here. Few of them actually had a choice about 'home'. It was here or the streets. For him, it was much simpler. "Where you go, I go. You're home t'me."

Marie leaned forward and put her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "I need you." It was almost an apology.

He settled himself on his knees and tugged, drawing her down into his lap. "S'okay, hon. I need you, too."

"I don't want to do this," she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. "I want to go somewhere and not think about any of it. I want to go be me and you and nothing more."

"Then let's go. For as long as y'need." He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Just don't burn y'bridges, okay?"

"...okay," Marie said after a time. Her breathing had evened out and her tears were all but gone. She shifted a little, snuggling closer. "And if I don't want to come back, what do we do?"

"We don't come back."

"We'll manage, right?"

He nodded. "We've managed b'fore, both of us."

"Then let me finish emailing people and you get your things." She slid out of his arms and stood up, wiping at her cheeks, regaining her composure. "And then we'll go. Anyplace you want to see?" she asked, sitting back in her chair. "I can print off the maps before we go."

He stood up and watched her for a moment, then turned toward the door. "Somewhere quiet."

"Okay. Logan?"

He turned back toward her, hand on the door handle. "Yeah?"

Marie watched him, a tired smile creeping up as she looked him over. "I love you," she said simply.

"I love you, too." He turned and walked out the door. There were bags to be packed.