[ Of course his mission to Hell's Kitchen comes up when he's not anywhere near New York. Why would it happen any other time? That'd be too easy. It doesn't matter how fast the Blackbird is or how smooth it's supposed to fly. He doesn't wanna be stuck in the air for hours, period. By the time he hits the tarmac and navigates through the No Man's Land that's rush hour in Manhattan, he's starting to regret answering the knock at his cabin door three nights ago.
(He was always gonna answer it. And once he found out what was happening, he'd have insisted on being involved in the first place, so yeah, Charles might be right, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it.)
The brick building stares back at him. He pokes around the side until he finds the right unit, splashing through last night's rain puddle and crunching over a pile of broken glass. Piss, beer, and rotting garbage. Smells like New York, alright. Sounds like it, too, if the little scurrying feet are anything to go by. As the sun sinks, the streetlamps flick on.
Only when he raps on the door does it occur to him that maybe nobody told this lady he's coming, and that might be a problem. He'd like to think somebody gave her a heads up, but he knows how these things go sometimes.
[ some part of her knew this was coming- that sort of thrumming in the back of her head, the anxiety turned adrenaline turned drive when the story came together, and the purpose of it all poked through. she became a journalist for that feeling, knowing the good that will come, knowing the danger it puts her in, knowing that if she didnât put the words to the paper, no one else would.
itâs not the first story karenâs read about mutants, and their longstanding, complicated relationship with the government - but it is the first one she can tie to cabinet members. the first one that has roots in part of new york even she hasnât gone.
foggy tried to get her to drop it first, some friend of a client of a friend with ties upstairs giving a little advice. then it was matt, stepping in the first seemingly random âaccidentâ that nearly got her killed, and then showing up the second, then the third. she was making someone angry, someone connected beyond even fisk, and it wasnât going to stop.
foggy was terrified, she knew that, but that didnât change the facts. the kids that might involved, the things sheâs heard. she wasnât dropping the story, no matter how many people âaccidentallyâ bumped her a little too close to the subway tracks, and daredevil couldnât be everywhere at once. karen didnât know if foggy had any hand in convincing matt or if matt did it himself, but she was almost impressed with how long it took to call in the favor. she is grateful, in case that wasnât obvious - she hasnât slept through the night in weeks. doesnât know when she might be able to again.
finish the story she keeps telling herself. itâll be worth it when you finish the story.
all this to say- no. no one told her he was coming. no one told her who he even was. all she knows is that thereâs a rasp at the door after dark and she didnât get a call ahead of time. so instead of opening it, sheâs standing on the other side - pistol in hand. ]
[ From behind the door, he hears a shuffle. Steps. They sound light, not heavy, soâit's probably the woman. ]
Uhâ [ Is his name gonna mean anything? Probably not but they're giving it a try. ] The name's Logan. Your friend, the lawyer, said you could use a hand.
[ Not in so many words. Listen, yeah, Logan got the brief, and yeah, he flipped through it, but he'd rather have it straight from her what's actually going on. He only needs to hear mutant facility to know it's nothing he wants still standing by the end of the week. But the Professor had looked him in the eyes and said, Logan, please refrain from disrupting her investigation, this is a very important story, and Logan had replied he'd...do his best.
Charles knew who he was sending. He's not making promises he can't keep.
Impatience gets the better of him. He knocks again. ] Look, either let me in or find me in the Denny's across the street, pick one.
[ the sound of his voice has her blinking, surprised by the sudden disappointment that floods her at the recognition that itâs not-
it doesnât matter.
logan? does she know that name? karenâs brow furrows as she thinks, tried to remember, and then he says your friend, the lawyer and something clicks into place. sheâs still annoyed - mattâs martyr complex is something sheâs not sure sheâll stop being annoyed at - but at least that instinctual, deep seeded fear of an unknown person at her door is somewhat calmed. matt had said something about fixing this, which means⊠what? heâs going to go off and do something stupid and send someone else to make sure sheâs not killed in the process?
she huffs out a breath, lowering the pistol but not quite clicking on the safety yet. instead, she undoes the deadbolt, keeping the chain lock in place though she has a growing suspicion of this is a friend of mattâs, a chain wonât keep the door closed for long. she opens the door those few inches, peeking through to see him, the leather jacket, the brown hair, the fact sheâs pretty sure she has never met him before but logan⊠sheâll remember it at some point.
one second, then another, her eyes narrowed as she checks him and then that heâs alone, before she closes the door and finally, fully, unlocks it - pulling it open and stepping back with it, gesturing inside. ]
The Dennyâs was closed down a few months back, salmonella outbreak. It only opened last week. But my suggestion is if youâre hungry, thereâs another diner four blocks east. [ sheâll wait for him to make it inside before closing the door behind him, finally clicking the safety back on and slipping the pistol into the drawer by the door. ]
[ She'll find Logan standing with his hands on his hips, waiting patiently and, at the same time, not that patiently on her doorstep. He peers through the crack with a curiosity of his own. So that's her, huh?
The door finally opens all the way. He gives her gun a passing glance as he crosses the threshold. Nice place. Even has some art on the walls.
Too bad about the Denny's. He'll have to find somewhere else to go at three in the morning. ]
Professor Xavier sent me.
[ Nobody sends him anywhere except Charles. Matt Murdock is just the guy who called in a favour from the X-Men. And part of Logan's gotta question if Murdock would've done that had he not needed their help, even though this is a mutant problem. They should be the ones here about it, whether or not this woman's in danger.
Guess he never expects much out of people, anyway.
He leans against the wall by her kitchen table. ] You wanna tell me what's going on with this story of yours?
[ karen does not know yet what sheâs supposed to think of logan - with his hands on his hip and a strange, complicated vibe that feels both like heâs already bored and somehow also carries a sense of⊠what? duty? responsibility?
she opens the door, he notices the gun but doesnât react much to it. itâs nothing much, but it is something karen clocks. even though heâs not carrying himself, from what she can see. not that it matters - he says professor xavier and karen blinks. ]
Charles Xavier? The Charles Xavier?
[ she doesnât mean to sound so surprised, or even impressed, but after living this story and all the various legs connected to it, she knows more about charles xavier than she probably needs to, and the idea that matt spoke to charles xavierâŠ
the little bit of awe immediately dissipates as she locks the door and crosses her arms over her chest, annoyed, but not at logan. ]
The story? [ a beat, and then she nods. so matt didnât tell xavier everything. or maybe xavier didnât tell logan? sheâs not entirely sure the interconnections there, but the question does ground her. itâs something she can actually do. thereâs a reactionary distrustful gut-clench, but she nods again, walking by him into the main living area - which currently looks a bit like a bomb went off. ]
[ Logan's got his eyes on the whirlwind that's blown through her living room; he can't tell if this is just a mess she made while working or if somebody broke into her place and she's still trying to clean some of that shit up. The door didn't look busted when he was coming through, but he also wasn't checking, either. Actuallyâhe's not sure what he's checking for. He's feeling things out. 'Causeâyeah, Karen's probably good people if Charles thinks she's worth helping, but he's also a little too aware of that divide between mutants and humans. And sometimes, there's just things you don't think about unless you're one, too.
So whatever's happening, whatever she's looking into, he wants to make sure it's not gonna blow back on some kids who didn't ask for it. Even if the truth's gotta be told somehow.
And then make sure she doesn't get herself killed, either. ]
Yup. [ A flicker of How about that? crosses his face. Somebody's got a fan, huh? Charles just has that effect on people.
When his jacket comes off, it's pretty clear he's not carrying much of anything beyond the outline of his wallet and the flash of a silver lighter in his inner pocket. No gun, no knife. He joins her by the island counter. She doesn't look that nervous about having a strange man in her home, though God knows he's not about to credit his comforting personality. Between the pistol and the fact that she's breaking this story in the first placeâsomething tells him that's just who she is. ]
[ no, no, for better or for worse this is all self-made chaos. usually karenâs not this bad when it comes to her stories or process, but the added excitement of someone being after her, trying to kill her every time she left the apartmentâŠwell. letâs just say keeping organized hasnât been high on her list.
she does try and clean, picking up half-open folders and stacking papers as she walks in, but it only takes a few moments before she realizes how futile it all is and gives up.
he says yup in such a casual, and understood way, that karen pauses for just a moment - looks at him for just a moment - before shaking her head. sheâs trying to make connections where there are none. whatever information comes to light will not be because sheâs trying to pull it out of the guy who is here to make sure she doesnât die.
still - his jacket comes off and karen does look, making sure of what he is or isnât carrying. the lack of weapons has her curious, if only because she knows it doesnât take a gun to be dangerous, but most people do still need that handicap. ] Beer? Cominâ right up. [ she uses the exchange to hide the fact her mind is spinning, rolling through documents sheâs read, stories sheâs heard. charles xavier, who matt apparently knows. charles xavier and logan, who doesnât carry weapons. who walks like he doesnât need to. who is standing in her kitchen now because matt murdock called in a favor andâ
she pulls a couple of bottles from the fridge and opens them with a beer bottle magnet on her fridge, setting his on the island next to him. ]
So. [ she says, taking a long drink from the neck of her bottle. ] Iâm guessing youâreâŠwhat? A mutant? And thatâs why youâre the guy Charles Xavier calls for babysitting duty?
[ itâs not that karenâs avoiding the question about her story, but this confirmation will help the context. so she waits. ]
[ There's enough paper and manila envelopes to fill a library. He does his best not to crush anything as he moves through her apartment. He could give her answers, sureâand he can tell she's searching for some out of himâbut she's gotta ask first because Logan's got no idea where the hell he's supposed to start. She obviously recognizes Xavier's name, but not Logan's (no surprise there), and he wonders if the Wolverine might ring a bell for her instead.
Few people ID him before the claws come out. ]
I only babysit the kids. [ He leans on the counter, the bottle's neck between his fingers. ] Charles knew I'd come looking one way or the other. Underground government labs and me...we don't really get along.
[ And he might pick up a piece or two of his past. These days, he's not gunning for answers like he was but it's still important to him. He still wants to know. It's just, he's got other things, too, that's become as importantâmore importantâthan putting together his lost years. ]
But while I'm here, sounds like you could use a guy to stand between you and a few bullets.
[ oh, she will get all the information she can out of him when they get to that. but karen is still working through the adrenaline that had filled her at the knocking at her door. sheâll dive back into this at some point tonight, later. for now- a drink. ]
The kids? You work at his school, then. [ karen sets down the beer and leans on her elbows on the island. because that? is a story hook she canât really leave unasked. ] Can I ask what itâs like? Everything I could find online contradicts itself. And no offense, but you donât look like the boarding school teacher type. [ she canât help the small smile, and the curious lift of her brow. she takes another sip after a moment. ]
No? [ another piece of information, another thing tugging at the back of her mind. sheâs read a lot about the government involvement in mutants, knows theyâve had a vested interest for a while. but logan. where has she heard that name?
the mention of the bullets has her sighing, immediately tired and annoyed all in one. ]
Itâs not the first time someoneâs tried to stop me printing a story, but this is⊠I donât know. Organized? Determined? [ and thatâs saying something, with how fisk had come after her. a beat, and then she decides to just ask. heâd breezed over the question about if he was a mutant, but she could put the pieces together. still, sheâs curious. ] Do you usually get shot a lot? You donât look thatâŠworried about it.
Not exactly. [ He doesn't work thereâat least, not how she says it. She's right. He's not the type. ] You interviewing me now, too?
[ His remark is light, but he distinctly doesn't clarify his relationship to the X-Men, the school, Charles. Look, it's complicated. They're his people, his family, but there are days where he's sure he isn't meant to be part of the Professor's vision. Charles might not realize that, no doubt sees something that isn't thereâbut Logan knows. He knows.
So he hasn't been at the school lately. Decided he could use some time to clear his head and went north. But when they need him, yeah. He comes back. He always does.
The bottle clinks gently against the counter. If he's supposed to protect her, he oughta tell her she shouldn't waste her time worrying what'll happen if he catches one in the teeth. ]
Hank McCoy calls it a healing factor. Means I'm hard to put down. [ She's probably got that name somewhere in her notes. Furball went and landed himself in politics. His eyes roam over her for a moment. Organized, determinedâthat's about what he expects to hear. The kind of persistence that comes from a bottomless well of funds and orders that come from the top. ] Military, is my guess. The assholes after you.
I canât pass up a chance to get information from a direct source. Most of what Iâve got has been pieced together from what people arenât saying and stories that were put through the political translation machine. [ she shrugs, unapologetic, and shooting him another glance. she knows a diversion when she sees one, but decides to not push it any further. for now.
instead, he brings up hank mccoy and healing factors and karen straightens. ] Hank McCoy� Actually, yeah, okay. Makes sense. [ karen grabs her beer and walks around the island back to her coffee table where a majority of the notes are stacked. she sits and starts rifling through them, assuming logan is going to come watch or just wait for her to explain. ]
I donât know, maybe. Or someone higher upâs giving them orders. [ she flips through the stacks, looking for one folder in particular, but she canât seem to find it at first, rifling through more as she keeps talking. ]
When I first started into this, I thought it was just the tristate area thing. But the more I kept digging, the more it spread. [ an annoyed noise, and then she moves to her desk - not far away, and also covered in papers and folders. ] One off cases here and there, sure, but then I thought to check chapters in other inner cities- Atlanta, Chicago, PhiladelphiaâŠ
Charles used to say anonymity was a mutant's first line of defence.
[ He repeats it with a wry twist to his lips. Too late for that now. They've got a hairy blue bastard meeting with the Senate and nobody believes anymore the school is just a place for gifted kids. But it doesn't mean they've started doing press about it.
He swipes his bottle off the table and takes a swig as he perches by the windowsillâthough not before making sure the blinds are nice and thick, and shut.
She rattles off a bunch of states. They don't all mean something to Logan, but he gets where she's going and interrupts: ] Canada?
[ Unless she's missed that. But she looks thorough, to say the least. She must've dug past the American borders. ]
Anonymity is also why itâs taken this long to put this together.
[ which isnât a a critique on the professor, from what sheâs read heâs gone above and beyond to help mutants over the decades, but the more she uncovers the angrier she feels.
she rifles through one stack, and then another, onto her third when he asks about canada and she pauses. looks over her shoulder at him with a look - tired, weighted - before sheâs back to her searching. ] Yeah. Not as many, from just what Iâve found, but they have a different system up there. Itâs taken a while just to figure out this one.
[ she curses under her breath, looks around the room for a moment scratching the back of her head, before her eyes land on another few strewn across a shelf of books. karen rushes over and pulls one out out from the middle, flips through and with a nod, walks over and hands it to him, turning and - supposedly - going to search for another file. ]
Keisha Williams was the first one I was tipped off to. A volunteer at the community center she hung out at after school called me when she when the cops turned her away. Sheâs been missing for two weeks at that point but since she was fourteen they claimed runaway. [ she keeps looking for another file, searching through stacks and pulling one out every now and then, tucking it under her arm. ]
[ They didn't ask for this to be put together, he thinks, but the truth is, Logan's not the investigative type one way or the other. He deals with problems differentlyâand a cynical part of him wants to know what good it'll do to release this story. These are mutants. The world's never cared that much what happened to any of them.
But Charles believes otherwise. So Logan's here.
He takes her file. Inside, he can see photocopies, records, notes. Names, mostly. Missing persons reports. Like she saidâit's a lot of names that won't be missed. He gets it. That's what makes this shit so easy. There's a reason the school is a home for so many. Because their parents don't want them. 'Cause they took off after their abilities manifested, scared and alone. Or, for the older ones, they haven't figured out how to fit back into the world.
He's rifles through the pages. Doesn't exactly find what he's searching for yet (Alkali, StrykerâEssex, even) when something she says makes him pause. He looks up. ]
[ no, they didnât ask for this. but the kids this story is about, the kids who would have otherwise stayed lost, remained under the radar, they deserve a chance to not be forgotten, to be found.
and maybe the world hasnât cared about mutants, maybe the world has gone out of its way to shit on mutants, but that doesnât mean she has to let the world continue to be comfortably, blissfully ignorant. ]
Someone took her. And before you say anything- no, not human trafficking. Not the usual kidnapping, and she didnât run. I know this because after I did some digging, a lot of digging, actually, I found out that Keisha had taken part in a state-of-the-art physical activity assessment about two weeks before she disappeared. Something that was federally funded, to find students with untapped potential. [ logan can probably tell by her tone what she thinks about that description. she continues search, pulling out another file and - upon confirming - walks over and hands this new one to him.
karen knows he isnât reading all of it, but skimming, and seeing how much she has should have enough of an effect. she sets the folders from under her arm on the chair next to where loganâs standing - additional reading material, if he wants to dive in, but karen seems done with her search.
at first she waits to see if he reacts to what he finds inside, photos, reports. but soon enough she gets impatient and walks back over to where she left her beer, grabs it, and then goes to sit on the couch. ]
Itâs an older program- from the seventies. Itâs been phased out by most school programs due to the nature of the testing, but some lower income schools still run it every four or so years. A few, actually. All the schools where those- [ she points to that first folder. ] -kids went, before they also went missing, about three weeks after.
The program has been tough to dig into, I keep running into classified documents, which is weird, seeing as this is supposed to be some healthy kid mandate from back in the day. [ she chuckles to herself a little, takes another long sip. ] What I do know is that after each school goes through its testing, the findings get sent to some department thatâs still being funded, something in the military sector.
[ His eyebrow cocks. He wasn't gonna say anything, and he continues not to, busy piecing together what she's telling him. The seventies. He frowns. The thing is, he should know. He was there. He lived it. He should be able to help her fill in decades of blanksâbullshit government ops, their history of experimenting on mutants or drafting them into special unitsâbut he fucking can't.
But he's sure it's got something to do with the old program at Alkali. Has to, right? It's fuzzy butâhe knows his memoriesâthe solid onesâstop in the late eighties, early nineties. Right around there. Everything before that's patchy. And Charles, he knows Charles believes the incident in Cuba back then, that's what put mutants on the map.
Someone's gone and revived this shit. Wish he could say he was surprised. Not the first time they've targeted kids, either. Only he wasn't there for these kids. They didn't have a safe place to stay, nobody to come to their rescue.
He closes the folder. He's gonna need something stronger than a beer. ]
When you were looking, did you come across Weapon X? Or the name William Stryker?
[ Most of this stuff is buried six feet deep. But maybe she'd caught wind of somethingâan unmarked facility up north that abruptly shut down. Didn't get bought up, just stayed abandoned for years. ]
[ his eyebrow cocks, and karen is suddenly very interested in his reactions to the information she's sharing. how much of her story is true, or maybe even how much of her story is tied to something else. she watches him, closer than before, as his expressions shift - tired, recognition, thoughtful. something she's saying is... familiar? to him. but she isn't sure which parts.
and yes - the second she started to sense something was off, the moment she got that hint of a connecting detail across all these cases - she did her research. charles xavier, erik lehnsherr, hank mccoy. the school, the kids, the CIA. karen watches logan's mind go elsewhere, and she starts to put herself in a place to try and press for that information, but then he just. asks.
karen pauses, rolling those terms around in her head. weapon x? william str-
wait. her eyes go wide for a moment and she stands. ] Yeah- I mean, yes, but not lately. He came up more in the research I did about the first programs... [ she rushes to another pile, and then another, and quickly looks through before she finds another file and starts flipping through the pages inside and she walks back towards him, and when she gets there, turns the folder towards him. an old photo if stryker from the 80s is right there on the print out of a small town front page newspaper. government supports kids health and there he stands, right in front of the podium.
karen takes a step back, something in her gut telling her that whatever it is she's handing over may set something off. she's not sure. ]
I haven't seen him come up recently, but he was there when this started. [ a beat, and then she looks at him again. ] Why? Do you know him?
[ 'Til now, the only person he's talked about Stryker with is Charles and Stryker himself. It's different with Charles. He doesn't have to say much, doesn't have to say anything if he doesn't want. If he can't. The man can just look into his head. Nice and easy.
Here, with Karen, is something else. She's not a mutant. She's not a friend. And no, he's not suspicious of her, not like thatâbut he doesn't exactly trust her, either. He just met her, like, thirty minutes ago.
Still, he brought up those names for a reason, right? Can't say what that reason is, but for better or worse, he rarely thinks twice about where his instincts lead him. So he takes her papers (Jesus, there's a whole forest's worth in this apartment) and stares down at the face: smug, smiling, hollow behind a pair of beady fucking eyes. His blood runs cold, then hot, lancing sharp through his veinsâand for a minute, he's somewhere else.
Logan closes the folder abruptly. He chuckles, humourless. ] Oh, yeah. We go way back. He hasn't come up 'cause I killed him.
[ Department must've buried his death. Not that it makes any difference. Stryker's just one of many. Only reason he got as far as he did was the assholes who signed the right papers for him. ]
[ no, they don't know each other at all. don't trust each other, though karen has to wonder if she's messed that part up, unloading her story on the man without second guessing if he was lying, if he was going to kill her where she stood. there's a kind of swell of panic in her chest when she realizes that it's suddenly very likely she has been digging her own grave for the last half hour. god, how stupid is she? one comment about matt, about being sent by matt to help, and she's just letting some guy into her place and telling him everything.
he closes the folder abruptly and she doesn't mean to, but she jumps. just barely, and she desperately hopes he doesn't notice. he hasn't come up 'cause I killed him.
ah- karen figured as much. or, rather, finds she isn't surprised by the information. she nods, going back to grab her beer and settle again. her nerves are still alight, still on guard now that she realizes everything she's just handed over without question. ] I bet he was an asshole. Is that what happened? You were part of that Weapon X thing?
[ Her heart picks up speed; Logan studies her for a secondâunsure if he did something that set her off, something he didn't noticeâbut when he looks down at his hands, his claws are still retracted. Just nerves, then.
Can't blame her.
He flexes his fingers and tries to relax. He's not trying to scare her. ]
I, uhâ [ Part of it. Right. He's a little more than a part of it. ] Actually, I was it. I was their entire pet project.
[ So if this is related, then, what. They're picking up where they left three decades ago? Looking to make another perfect weapon? How long has this been going on? But he knows how easy it is for mutants to slip through the cracks. Even with the school, they can only recover so many. And a lot of kids don't want to be found in the first place. ]
Anyway, you can save your questions, I don't remember anything.
[ she does calm down, though not entirely. it has nothing to do with him, or rather, nothing that he's done. still move through it soon enough, returning to whatever her base zero tends to be when she knows someone doesn't want her digging.
with the next sip karen finishes the bottle, her eyes going to it while she decides if she wants another, when logan starts again. part of it she had asked, and he offers I was it and Karen just kind of stares at him for a moment. her research hadn't been too intense into the weapon x program, but it was pretty hard to ignore it as soon as her story had started to lean government and mutants. ]
You were Weapon X? But that'd mean- [ her eyes widen, her expression shifting a little more... awestruck? surprised? excited? she's not entirely sure what she's feeling, but it does push her to sit up a little. ] You're Wolverine. Holy shit.
[ and then, when she realizes how awkward that probably made things. ] Sorry, I- read about what happened. I mean, probably not even half of the real story, but still. [ her eyes go to his hands, his knuckles, and then she's shaking her head again.
actually, maybe she will get that other drink. she stands and gestures for his bottle to ask if he wants another one as she heads to the kitchen. it's still a new york apartment, so she doesn't have to go far. ] You don't remember any of it? What about your life before?
[ Yeah. That's him. The Wolverine. A half billion dollar weapon on the loose, or however much it was they dumped into him. His expression is half annoyed, half just unsure of what he's supposed to sayâa silent shrug. The X-Men see him as one thing, the kids as something else, the humans another. As for him?
Fuck if he knows.
He watches her stand. Of course she read about him. What's it say? Does it mention the trail of bodies he left behind, before and after? Has she realized he never needed some underground program to make him so good at killing? ] Not really. Some. Flashes.
[ He knows he's been around for a while. He remembers...flickers of forest and snow. That's probably what sticks to him the most. All the snow. Guess that's why he keeps getting pulled north when he takes off. Anyway, it's as he said: not worth asking. The shit he does recall, it isn't useful. Doesn't offer key insight into whatever research she's doing. It's justâa blur of pain. That's all.
He wiggles the bottle. ] You got anything stronger?
[ A beer's fine, but it's not a drink. Might as well be a glass of water. ]
[ huh. that's... something. she supposes that's where the connection had come from, the mention of logan and Charles Xavier. she probably should have put it together before this point, probably should have connected the dots and then acted a little cooler about the whole ordeal, but it's a little late for that now.
flashes. that's not surprising. she's familiar enough with the things trauma can do to memory, and given what she's read (again, not a ton, but enough) he has plenty of trauma to deal with.
recognizing that as enough of a dead end for now, if only because he says not really and she hears I don't want to and while Karen pushes where she probably shouldn't a lot of the time, she does have some semblance of a survival instinct. maybe later she'll test her luck. but not for right now.
she laughs a little at the request, nodding and reaching up to open one of her cabinets, pulling down a bottle of dark whiskey and two cups. she fills the two glasses and carries them over to where he's still at the window, offering the cup to him. ]
So, what do you do now? Besides babysit kids and...investigate potential government conspiracies?
[ it's meant to be a joke, and she's smiling a bit to herself as she takes a sip. ]
[ Part of him expects her to push; Logan hasn't got a problem telling her to back off, but turns out, he doesn't need to. He can appreciate that better. ]
Hey, I'm not investigating shit, that's all you. [ He reaches for the glass. ] But, before they came knocking on my door, I wasâ [ He lifts a hand, then drops it, 'cause he's pretty sure she's thinking he's doing anything other than what he's about to say ] âdriving a forklift. Up in Yellowknife.
[ It's the kinda thing he does sometimes, does it as easy as breathingâfucking off someplace remote, grabbing a job where nobody will ask questions, sticking to it 'til something forces him to move on. It's the staying that he hasn't exactly worked out. But at least he's been coming back lately, letting himself get drawn into the fold, the school, and maybe that's more than he used to allow.
He's here, isn't he? At Charles' behest. ]
What about you? How long have you been kicking over hornet's nests?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
karen page â bodyguard scenario.
(He was always gonna answer it. And once he found out what was happening, he'd have insisted on being involved in the first place, so yeah, Charles might be right, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it.)
The brick building stares back at him. He pokes around the side until he finds the right unit, splashing through last night's rain puddle and crunching over a pile of broken glass. Piss, beer, and rotting garbage. Smells like New York, alright. Sounds like it, too, if the little scurrying feet are anything to go by. As the sun sinks, the streetlamps flick on.
Only when he raps on the door does it occur to him that maybe nobody told this lady he's coming, and that might be a problem. He'd like to think somebody gave her a heads up, but he knows how these things go sometimes.
Well. Guess it's time to find out. ]
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itâs not the first story karenâs read about mutants, and their longstanding, complicated relationship with the government - but it is the first one she can tie to cabinet members. the first one that has roots in part of new york even she hasnât gone.
foggy tried to get her to drop it first, some friend of a client of a friend with ties upstairs giving a little advice. then it was matt, stepping in the first seemingly random âaccidentâ that nearly got her killed, and then showing up the second, then the third. she was making someone angry, someone connected beyond even fisk, and it wasnât going to stop.
foggy was terrified, she knew that, but that didnât change the facts. the kids that might involved, the things sheâs heard. she wasnât dropping the story, no matter how many people âaccidentallyâ bumped her a little too close to the subway tracks, and daredevil couldnât be everywhere at once. karen didnât know if foggy had any hand in convincing matt or if matt did it himself, but she was almost impressed with how long it took to call in the favor. she is grateful, in case that wasnât obvious - she hasnât slept through the night in weeks. doesnât know when she might be able to again.
finish the story she keeps telling herself. itâll be worth it when you finish the story.
all this to say- no. no one told her he was coming. no one told her who he even was. all she knows is that thereâs a rasp at the door after dark and she didnât get a call ahead of time. so instead of opening it, sheâs standing on the other side - pistol in hand. ]
Yeah? [ she calls through the door. ]
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Uhâ [ Is his name gonna mean anything? Probably not but they're giving it a try. ] The name's Logan. Your friend, the lawyer, said you could use a hand.
[ Not in so many words. Listen, yeah, Logan got the brief, and yeah, he flipped through it, but he'd rather have it straight from her what's actually going on. He only needs to hear mutant facility to know it's nothing he wants still standing by the end of the week. But the Professor had looked him in the eyes and said, Logan, please refrain from disrupting her investigation, this is a very important story, and Logan had replied he'd...do his best.
Charles knew who he was sending. He's not making promises he can't keep.
Impatience gets the better of him. He knocks again. ] Look, either let me in or find me in the Denny's across the street, pick one.
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it doesnât matter.
logan? does she know that name? karenâs brow furrows as she thinks, tried to remember, and then he says your friend, the lawyer and something clicks into place. sheâs still annoyed - mattâs martyr complex is something sheâs not sure sheâll stop being annoyed at - but at least that instinctual, deep seeded fear of an unknown person at her door is somewhat calmed. matt had said something about fixing this, which means⊠what? heâs going to go off and do something stupid and send someone else to make sure sheâs not killed in the process?
she huffs out a breath, lowering the pistol but not quite clicking on the safety yet. instead, she undoes the deadbolt, keeping the chain lock in place though she has a growing suspicion of this is a friend of mattâs, a chain wonât keep the door closed for long. she opens the door those few inches, peeking through to see him, the leather jacket, the brown hair, the fact sheâs pretty sure she has never met him before but logan⊠sheâll remember it at some point.
one second, then another, her eyes narrowed as she checks him and then that heâs alone, before she closes the door and finally, fully, unlocks it - pulling it open and stepping back with it, gesturing inside. ]
The Dennyâs was closed down a few months back, salmonella outbreak. It only opened last week. But my suggestion is if youâre hungry, thereâs another diner four blocks east. [ sheâll wait for him to make it inside before closing the door behind him, finally clicking the safety back on and slipping the pistol into the drawer by the door. ]
Matt sent you?
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The door finally opens all the way. He gives her gun a passing glance as he crosses the threshold. Nice place. Even has some art on the walls.
Too bad about the Denny's. He'll have to find somewhere else to go at three in the morning. ]
Professor Xavier sent me.
[ Nobody sends him anywhere except Charles. Matt Murdock is just the guy who called in a favour from the X-Men. And part of Logan's gotta question if Murdock would've done that had he not needed their help, even though this is a mutant problem. They should be the ones here about it, whether or not this woman's in danger.
Guess he never expects much out of people, anyway.
He leans against the wall by her kitchen table. ] You wanna tell me what's going on with this story of yours?
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she opens the door, he notices the gun but doesnât react much to it. itâs nothing much, but it is something karen clocks. even though heâs not carrying himself, from what she can see. not that it matters - he says professor xavier and karen blinks. ]
Charles Xavier? The Charles Xavier?
[ she doesnât mean to sound so surprised, or even impressed, but after living this story and all the various legs connected to it, she knows more about charles xavier than she probably needs to, and the idea that matt spoke to charles xavierâŠ
the little bit of awe immediately dissipates as she locks the door and crosses her arms over her chest, annoyed, but not at logan. ]
The story? [ a beat, and then she nods. so matt didnât tell xavier everything. or maybe xavier didnât tell logan? sheâs not entirely sure the interconnections there, but the question does ground her. itâs something she can actually do. thereâs a reactionary distrustful gut-clench, but she nods again, walking by him into the main living area - which currently looks a bit like a bomb went off. ]
You want a drink?
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So whatever's happening, whatever she's looking into, he wants to make sure it's not gonna blow back on some kids who didn't ask for it. Even if the truth's gotta be told somehow.
And then make sure she doesn't get herself killed, either. ]
Yup. [ A flicker of How about that? crosses his face. Somebody's got a fan, huh? Charles just has that effect on people.
When his jacket comes off, it's pretty clear he's not carrying much of anything beyond the outline of his wallet and the flash of a silver lighter in his inner pocket. No gun, no knife. He joins her by the island counter. She doesn't look that nervous about having a strange man in her home, though God knows he's not about to credit his comforting personality. Between the pistol and the fact that she's breaking this story in the first placeâsomething tells him that's just who she is. ]
I'll take a beer.
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she does try and clean, picking up half-open folders and stacking papers as she walks in, but it only takes a few moments before she realizes how futile it all is and gives up.
he says yup in such a casual, and understood way, that karen pauses for just a moment - looks at him for just a moment - before shaking her head. sheâs trying to make connections where there are none. whatever information comes to light will not be because sheâs trying to pull it out of the guy who is here to make sure she doesnât die.
still - his jacket comes off and karen does look, making sure of what he is or isnât carrying. the lack of weapons has her curious, if only because she knows it doesnât take a gun to be dangerous, but most people do still need that handicap. ] Beer? Cominâ right up. [ she uses the exchange to hide the fact her mind is spinning, rolling through documents sheâs read, stories sheâs heard. charles xavier, who matt apparently knows. charles xavier and logan, who doesnât carry weapons. who walks like he doesnât need to. who is standing in her kitchen now because matt murdock called in a favor andâ
she pulls a couple of bottles from the fridge and opens them with a beer bottle magnet on her fridge, setting his on the island next to him. ]
So. [ she says, taking a long drink from the neck of her bottle. ] Iâm guessing youâreâŠwhat? A mutant? And thatâs why youâre the guy Charles Xavier calls for babysitting duty?
[ itâs not that karenâs avoiding the question about her story, but this confirmation will help the context. so she waits. ]
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Few people ID him before the claws come out. ]
I only babysit the kids. [ He leans on the counter, the bottle's neck between his fingers. ] Charles knew I'd come looking one way or the other. Underground government labs and me...we don't really get along.
[ And he might pick up a piece or two of his past. These days, he's not gunning for answers like he was but it's still important to him. He still wants to know. It's just, he's got other things, too, that's become as importantâmore importantâthan putting together his lost years. ]
But while I'm here, sounds like you could use a guy to stand between you and a few bullets.
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The kids? You work at his school, then. [ karen sets down the beer and leans on her elbows on the island. because that? is a story hook she canât really leave unasked. ] Can I ask what itâs like? Everything I could find online contradicts itself. And no offense, but you donât look like the boarding school teacher type. [ she canât help the small smile, and the curious lift of her brow. she takes another sip after a moment. ]
No? [ another piece of information, another thing tugging at the back of her mind. sheâs read a lot about the government involvement in mutants, knows theyâve had a vested interest for a while. but logan. where has she heard that name?
the mention of the bullets has her sighing, immediately tired and annoyed all in one. ]
Itâs not the first time someoneâs tried to stop me printing a story, but this is⊠I donât know. Organized? Determined? [ and thatâs saying something, with how fisk had come after her. a beat, and then she decides to just ask. heâd breezed over the question about if he was a mutant, but she could put the pieces together. still, sheâs curious. ] Do you usually get shot a lot? You donât look thatâŠworried about it.
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[ His remark is light, but he distinctly doesn't clarify his relationship to the X-Men, the school, Charles. Look, it's complicated. They're his people, his family, but there are days where he's sure he isn't meant to be part of the Professor's vision. Charles might not realize that, no doubt sees something that isn't thereâbut Logan knows. He knows.
So he hasn't been at the school lately. Decided he could use some time to clear his head and went north. But when they need him, yeah. He comes back. He always does.
The bottle clinks gently against the counter. If he's supposed to protect her, he oughta tell her she shouldn't waste her time worrying what'll happen if he catches one in the teeth. ]
Hank McCoy calls it a healing factor. Means I'm hard to put down. [ She's probably got that name somewhere in her notes. Furball went and landed himself in politics. His eyes roam over her for a moment. Organized, determinedâthat's about what he expects to hear. The kind of persistence that comes from a bottomless well of funds and orders that come from the top. ] Military, is my guess. The assholes after you.
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instead, he brings up hank mccoy and healing factors and karen straightens. ] Hank McCoy� Actually, yeah, okay. Makes sense. [ karen grabs her beer and walks around the island back to her coffee table where a majority of the notes are stacked. she sits and starts rifling through them, assuming logan is going to come watch or just wait for her to explain. ]
I donât know, maybe. Or someone higher upâs giving them orders. [ she flips through the stacks, looking for one folder in particular, but she canât seem to find it at first, rifling through more as she keeps talking. ]
When I first started into this, I thought it was just the tristate area thing. But the more I kept digging, the more it spread. [ an annoyed noise, and then she moves to her desk - not far away, and also covered in papers and folders. ] One off cases here and there, sure, but then I thought to check chapters in other inner cities- Atlanta, Chicago, PhiladelphiaâŠ
[ sorry, logan. sheâll get there eventually. ]
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[ He repeats it with a wry twist to his lips. Too late for that now. They've got a hairy blue bastard meeting with the Senate and nobody believes anymore the school is just a place for gifted kids. But it doesn't mean they've started doing press about it.
He swipes his bottle off the table and takes a swig as he perches by the windowsillâthough not before making sure the blinds are nice and thick, and shut.
She rattles off a bunch of states. They don't all mean something to Logan, but he gets where she's going and interrupts: ] Canada?
[ Unless she's missed that. But she looks thorough, to say the least. She must've dug past the American borders. ]
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[ which isnât a a critique on the professor, from what sheâs read heâs gone above and beyond to help mutants over the decades, but the more she uncovers the angrier she feels.
she rifles through one stack, and then another, onto her third when he asks about canada and she pauses. looks over her shoulder at him with a look - tired, weighted - before sheâs back to her searching. ] Yeah. Not as many, from just what Iâve found, but they have a different system up there. Itâs taken a while just to figure out this one.
[ she curses under her breath, looks around the room for a moment scratching the back of her head, before her eyes land on another few strewn across a shelf of books. karen rushes over and pulls one out out from the middle, flips through and with a nod, walks over and hands it to him, turning and - supposedly - going to search for another file. ]
Keisha Williams was the first one I was tipped off to. A volunteer at the community center she hung out at after school called me when she when the cops turned her away. Sheâs been missing for two weeks at that point but since she was fourteen they claimed runaway. [ she keeps looking for another file, searching through stacks and pulling one out every now and then, tucking it under her arm. ]
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But Charles believes otherwise. So Logan's here.
He takes her file. Inside, he can see photocopies, records, notes. Names, mostly. Missing persons reports. Like she saidâit's a lot of names that won't be missed. He gets it. That's what makes this shit so easy. There's a reason the school is a home for so many. Because their parents don't want them. 'Cause they took off after their abilities manifested, scared and alone. Or, for the older ones, they haven't figured out how to fit back into the world.
He's rifles through the pages. Doesn't exactly find what he's searching for yet (Alkali, StrykerâEssex, even) when something she says makes him pause. He looks up. ]
Tipped off. By what?
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and maybe the world hasnât cared about mutants, maybe the world has gone out of its way to shit on mutants, but that doesnât mean she has to let the world continue to be comfortably, blissfully ignorant. ]
Someone took her. And before you say anything- no, not human trafficking. Not the usual kidnapping, and she didnât run. I know this because after I did some digging, a lot of digging, actually, I found out that Keisha had taken part in a state-of-the-art physical activity assessment about two weeks before she disappeared. Something that was federally funded, to find students with untapped potential. [ logan can probably tell by her tone what she thinks about that description. she continues search, pulling out another file and - upon confirming - walks over and hands this new one to him.
karen knows he isnât reading all of it, but skimming, and seeing how much she has should have enough of an effect. she sets the folders from under her arm on the chair next to where loganâs standing - additional reading material, if he wants to dive in, but karen seems done with her search.
at first she waits to see if he reacts to what he finds inside, photos, reports. but soon enough she gets impatient and walks back over to where she left her beer, grabs it, and then goes to sit on the couch. ]
Itâs an older program- from the seventies. Itâs been phased out by most school programs due to the nature of the testing, but some lower income schools still run it every four or so years. A few, actually. All the schools where those- [ she points to that first folder. ] -kids went, before they also went missing, about three weeks after.
The program has been tough to dig into, I keep running into classified documents, which is weird, seeing as this is supposed to be some healthy kid mandate from back in the day. [ she chuckles to herself a little, takes another long sip. ] What I do know is that after each school goes through its testing, the findings get sent to some department thatâs still being funded, something in the military sector.
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But he's sure it's got something to do with the old program at Alkali. Has to, right? It's fuzzy butâhe knows his memoriesâthe solid onesâstop in the late eighties, early nineties. Right around there. Everything before that's patchy. And Charles, he knows Charles believes the incident in Cuba back then, that's what put mutants on the map.
Someone's gone and revived this shit. Wish he could say he was surprised. Not the first time they've targeted kids, either. Only he wasn't there for these kids. They didn't have a safe place to stay, nobody to come to their rescue.
He closes the folder. He's gonna need something stronger than a beer. ]
When you were looking, did you come across Weapon X? Or the name William Stryker?
[ Most of this stuff is buried six feet deep. But maybe she'd caught wind of somethingâan unmarked facility up north that abruptly shut down. Didn't get bought up, just stayed abandoned for years. ]
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and yes - the second she started to sense something was off, the moment she got that hint of a connecting detail across all these cases - she did her research. charles xavier, erik lehnsherr, hank mccoy. the school, the kids, the CIA. karen watches logan's mind go elsewhere, and she starts to put herself in a place to try and press for that information, but then he just. asks.
karen pauses, rolling those terms around in her head. weapon x? william str-
wait. her eyes go wide for a moment and she stands. ] Yeah- I mean, yes, but not lately. He came up more in the research I did about the first programs... [ she rushes to another pile, and then another, and quickly looks through before she finds another file and starts flipping through the pages inside and she walks back towards him, and when she gets there, turns the folder towards him. an old photo if stryker from the 80s is right there on the print out of a small town front page newspaper. government supports kids health and there he stands, right in front of the podium.
karen takes a step back, something in her gut telling her that whatever it is she's handing over may set something off. she's not sure. ]
I haven't seen him come up recently, but he was there when this started. [ a beat, and then she looks at him again. ] Why? Do you know him?
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Here, with Karen, is something else. She's not a mutant. She's not a friend. And no, he's not suspicious of her, not like thatâbut he doesn't exactly trust her, either. He just met her, like, thirty minutes ago.
Still, he brought up those names for a reason, right? Can't say what that reason is, but for better or worse, he rarely thinks twice about where his instincts lead him. So he takes her papers (Jesus, there's a whole forest's worth in this apartment) and stares down at the face: smug, smiling, hollow behind a pair of beady fucking eyes. His blood runs cold, then hot, lancing sharp through his veinsâand for a minute, he's somewhere else.
Logan closes the folder abruptly. He chuckles, humourless. ] Oh, yeah. We go way back. He hasn't come up 'cause I killed him.
[ Department must've buried his death. Not that it makes any difference. Stryker's just one of many. Only reason he got as far as he did was the assholes who signed the right papers for him. ]
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he closes the folder abruptly and she doesn't mean to, but she jumps. just barely, and she desperately hopes he doesn't notice. he hasn't come up 'cause I killed him.
ah- karen figured as much. or, rather, finds she isn't surprised by the information. she nods, going back to grab her beer and settle again. her nerves are still alight, still on guard now that she realizes everything she's just handed over without question. ] I bet he was an asshole. Is that what happened? You were part of that Weapon X thing?
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Can't blame her.
He flexes his fingers and tries to relax. He's not trying to scare her. ]
I, uhâ [ Part of it. Right. He's a little more than a part of it. ] Actually, I was it. I was their entire pet project.
[ So if this is related, then, what. They're picking up where they left three decades ago? Looking to make another perfect weapon? How long has this been going on? But he knows how easy it is for mutants to slip through the cracks. Even with the school, they can only recover so many. And a lot of kids don't want to be found in the first place. ]
Anyway, you can save your questions, I don't remember anything.
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with the next sip karen finishes the bottle, her eyes going to it while she decides if she wants another, when logan starts again. part of it she had asked, and he offers I was it and Karen just kind of stares at him for a moment. her research hadn't been too intense into the weapon x program, but it was pretty hard to ignore it as soon as her story had started to lean government and mutants. ]
You were Weapon X? But that'd mean- [ her eyes widen, her expression shifting a little more... awestruck? surprised? excited? she's not entirely sure what she's feeling, but it does push her to sit up a little. ] You're Wolverine. Holy shit.
[ and then, when she realizes how awkward that probably made things. ] Sorry, I- read about what happened. I mean, probably not even half of the real story, but still. [ her eyes go to his hands, his knuckles, and then she's shaking her head again.
actually, maybe she will get that other drink. she stands and gestures for his bottle to ask if he wants another one as she heads to the kitchen. it's still a new york apartment, so she doesn't have to go far. ] You don't remember any of it? What about your life before?
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Fuck if he knows.
He watches her stand. Of course she read about him. What's it say? Does it mention the trail of bodies he left behind, before and after? Has she realized he never needed some underground program to make him so good at killing? ] Not really. Some. Flashes.
[ He knows he's been around for a while. He remembers...flickers of forest and snow. That's probably what sticks to him the most. All the snow. Guess that's why he keeps getting pulled north when he takes off. Anyway, it's as he said: not worth asking. The shit he does recall, it isn't useful. Doesn't offer key insight into whatever research she's doing. It's justâa blur of pain. That's all.
He wiggles the bottle. ] You got anything stronger?
[ A beer's fine, but it's not a drink. Might as well be a glass of water. ]
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flashes. that's not surprising. she's familiar enough with the things trauma can do to memory, and given what she's read (again, not a ton, but enough) he has plenty of trauma to deal with.
recognizing that as enough of a dead end for now, if only because he says not really and she hears I don't want to and while Karen pushes where she probably shouldn't a lot of the time, she does have some semblance of a survival instinct. maybe later she'll test her luck. but not for right now.
she laughs a little at the request, nodding and reaching up to open one of her cabinets, pulling down a bottle of dark whiskey and two cups. she fills the two glasses and carries them over to where he's still at the window, offering the cup to him. ]
So, what do you do now? Besides babysit kids and...investigate potential government conspiracies?
[ it's meant to be a joke, and she's smiling a bit to herself as she takes a sip. ]
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Hey, I'm not investigating shit, that's all you. [ He reaches for the glass. ] But, before they came knocking on my door, I wasâ [ He lifts a hand, then drops it, 'cause he's pretty sure she's thinking he's doing anything other than what he's about to say ] âdriving a forklift. Up in Yellowknife.
[ It's the kinda thing he does sometimes, does it as easy as breathingâfucking off someplace remote, grabbing a job where nobody will ask questions, sticking to it 'til something forces him to move on. It's the staying that he hasn't exactly worked out. But at least he's been coming back lately, letting himself get drawn into the fold, the school, and maybe that's more than he used to allow.
He's here, isn't he? At Charles' behest. ]
What about you? How long have you been kicking over hornet's nests?
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happy 100th comment :3
:333
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