Logan and Cammie - Late at Night

[x-wolverine.livejournal.com]

In vino, veritas? Possibly. Logan and Cammie are where they probably shouldn't be, talking about the things that wear them down. And contributing to the delinquency of a minor.



"Shots," Cammie said, noting the bottle of liquor and the couple of glasses, "So, is this a who can outdrink who contest? Because I'm pretty sure we'd break about even. I'm pretty damn convinced that you don't get drunk at all." Of course, she wasn't going to turn down booze. She couldn't buy it legally yet, though that had never stopped her, and she could taste it, so it was better than 'yay, another cold liquid that tastes like water.'

"Not hardly." Logan said somewhat brusquely. He'd been having a fairly shitty series of days - no one big thing, just lots of little ones. Restless, tired of everyone's stink getting up his nose, not sleeping well, the whole deal was just wearing on him. "How's the leg?" he asked as he downed his first shot in one swallow.

Cammie downed hers easily, "Better. Doesn't look like it's been living in a cave anymore," she had waxed it for one. Getting it's color back would be another thing, right now it still had a vaguely zombie-ish sort of green sheen to it, "Also doesn't hurt anymore. On the downside there's no more threatening people with crutches."

"Poor baby." he grunted as he downed his next shot. "Work your physio, build that leg back up." he told her as he studied his next shot like it held all the answers.

"I'm working on it," Cammie said, "I want to be able to fight and you know, do stuff, like that," she said, taking a shot of her own. It was so nice and tart. She could down the whole bottle like water. It had been a high school trick of hers, and then a good way of scamming people out of money.

Logan grunted at that and took another shot. The burn, like it always did, faded in seconds. "Be nice to be like everyone else, I'll bet." he offered.

"Yeah, but fuck that," Cammie said, "I can't change this," though she had spent quite a few months after... it happened wishing she could, but that was beside the point. You couldn't change some things, "Might as well learn how to make it work for me, right?" Cammie mused, pouring herself another shot.

"Yes and no." he said. "Sometimes, your best bet is to just blend in. Disappear. Be just like them." he said, motioning towards the other people in the bar. "Nobody can stand alone all the time." he groused.

"Sort of have a gangrene colored arm," Cammie pointed out, "And people stare at the bandages," she played with the shot glass for a moment, "On my own, I basically hung out with the other freaks, ya know? They don't care who you are or if you disappear."

"Hard life." he said. "Sorta like moving from place to place, no idea where you've been or where you're going. Just thinking that something's got to be better than what you had right then." he said, downing another shot.

"Yeah, something like that," Cammie said, "More like I didn't want to fuck up and really hurt someone, but it always managed to happen anyway," she said. God, that made her sound like some kind of pussy, even she did have one, in a manner of speaking. "Sometimes it's better when you don't have to see the damage you cause."

"Bullshit." Logan said sharply. "You go down that road, pretty soon you just stop carin'." he said harshly. "Own your fucking mistakes, kid." he said. "You screw up, someone goes to the hospital. Or into the ground. You just gonna forget it, like it meant fuckall to you?" he growled.

"No, damnit, I remember every time it's happened," Cammie returned. With almost perfect clarity. She couldn't spout dates, except for one. In most cases she didn't know names. But it sort of embedded in her brain. "Sometimes, it was the only way to keep myself from getting killed. Funny story: people don't take a hundred pound teenager seriously."

Logan grinned faintly at that. "Their loss." he said, then let the grin die a strangled death. "Way I see it, people like us, we owe a debt. To the dead." he said quietly, then downed another shot quickly. "Debt you can't ever fully repay."

"Then how do you go about trying?" Cammie asked, looking over at him, still twirling the shot with a green hand. Her thoughts were on Greg, not to say the other people didn't matter or hadn't had any sort of life but his was the one that mattered most.

"I find out, I'll make sure to tell you." he said as he downed the last shot in front of him. He sullenly waved the barmaid over to get another bottle and, of course, a fresh set of shots.

"Yeah, let me know, so I can start working on my small graveyard," Cammie said, "Because it sort of stands there taunting me." Oooh, fresh shots. Too bad she couldn't get the buzz, of course if she could feel anything chemical she'd be so hooked on so many things right now. Or so dead. Either or.

He sighed. She was missing the point. Which was, ya know, her perogative. He owed ... soemone. Something. Probably a lot of someones. Or else it was just her papering bravado over a festering wound, which was something he could definitely relate to. Not like he had much right to talk - all he had was a feeling. And the omnipresent fatigue of trying to be something he wasn't.

Not really.

Cammie downed another shot, were she normal she would be smashed and then some by now. She paused a moment and glanced over her shoulder. She could swear one of the guys over in a booth was looking her over. Which made her roll her eyes. She wasn't a party girl, or a good time girl, not unless she was the one doing the looking, but she wasn't.

Out of the blue she asked, "How do people do it. I mean, walk away from someone's life like it's nothing, you know?"

"Some men, that life never meant shit to them in the first place." he said. "Others get real good at tellin' themselves they don't care. Some do it for duty." he said. "Any way you slice it, it's not something decent folks do." he added.

"And where do you think I am, honestly," like he'd lie. As far as Cammie could tell it simply wasn't in his nature. He was honest, painfully so. She could take painful honesty. She was painfully honest with herself all the time.

"You?" he said. "You're a liar. You tell yourself you're badass, it doesn't matter, they had it coming. It was an accident. Not your fault." he said slowly, carefully. "It rips you up still, though, when you think nobody's looking."

Cammie rested her head on her arms, which crossed themselves over the bar, "There's never been any foolin' you, has there?" she said, it wasn't snappish like it could have been. Just a statement.

"Better than you have tried." he said with a tired smile. "But don't let it get you down, kid. Fact is, you still care, and if you still care, there's still something better out there for you." he said. "Not that I got any ground to stand on, here..." he said uncomfortably.

"You must have something," Cammie said sitting up a bit, "I mean, we're talking and I think some of it is sticking. No one ear out the other. It doesn't sound like your just trying to placate me or anything. I've had enough of that to last a life time. I don't know about the something better though. What if this is all there is?"

"Then you fight." he said simply. "To make something better." he said. "Look. I'm a killer, kid. Can't remember, don't remember, but I know it. There's blood on my hands, kid, and I don't even know whose it is." he said quietly, downing a quick shot before speaking again. "Maybe I can wash some of it away by helping somebody else." he said. "So they don't do what I did, become what I am."

Fight to make something better. She could do that, maybe. It wasn't like she knew where to start, but that was something to think about, "For what it's worth you may be a killer but I don't think you're a bad guy," Cammie said. "Of course, I might not be the best character endorsement out there, but yeah."

He grunted at that and downed another shot. "Maybe someday we'll stop beating ourselves up for the shit we've done." he admitted.

"But then we couldn't go pretend drinking together," she joked with a short laugh and put her hand through her dark green hair, "God, I really wish I could get drunk. I've never been, you know?"

"Join the crowd." he grunted as he downed another shot. "Not for a lack of tryin', though." he said with the ghost of a smile.

"The trying is tasty," Cammie said with a sage nod, "Back before my life went and complicated the fuck out of itself the ability to down a bottle of vodka and walk in a straight line was a great party trick."

Logan barked out a laugh at that. "Suppose it's no better than drinkin' a six-pack, beating the shit out of a dozen truckers and townies, then downing another six-pack before callin' it a day."

"Sounds like a great day. If you ever decide to do that again, I get to come with you," Cammie said.

"It was fun." he said with a grin. "But meetin' Marie put an end to those days." Too many barkeeps with shotguns, too much fear, too much "Get the hell out of my bar, freak." for his tastes.

"Ah. Well, I guess we'll have to get into trouble some other way. If there's still trouble worth getting into," Cammie said, downing another shot.

"You wouldn't be you if you were up to your tits in something you shouldn't be doing." he chuckled.