[ Yeah. The humans responsible. The mutants, too, if there's any. Could be. He knows better than to believe his own kind are immune to selling out. There's money and power on the other side; a twisted sense of safety. Or some of them just hate being what they are that much.
He's not expecting her to come with him. Wouldn't want her to, either. He just wants the information she can put together. It doesn't matter that he could do it himself, that he's tracked too many to count in the past. She's who he's been next to this past week, and she's who he wants to finish this with.
Besides, he's...this is different. Beyond personal. Some part of him's reluctant to dig through those files on his own. Not when he won't know what else he'll stumble across. As much as he doesn't wanna admit it, he could use her help.
He watches her for a moment. Understanding flickers over his face. He glances down at his feet, then back up. Jesus, he feels like he's dragged her into something he shouldn't have—but hell, she was here first. She'd be here even if he hadn't come along. Or she'd already be dead, more like.
He's still gonna hate himself if anything happens to her.
The air's deflated. So has she. He sighs. ] Your bath's gonna overflow.
[ the people responsible, then- if he wants to get technical. she knows that responsibility can spread, knows that it can get complicated and sticky and that a lot of people- a lot of people- get into situations that they don't mean to be in and it gets messy. most of their clients, back at nelson and murdock, were these sorts of people- the ones who ended up in bad spots, in bad places, that they never meant to be.
for some reason, Karen doesn't think these people are the same.
as far as she's concerned, she's not letting this go. she started this, and whether or not it was for herself or for the people she's trying to bring justice, she will finish it too. if logan wants her there with him or not. she holds his eyes for a few moments, watches his gaze flick down to his feet and then up again, and something settles. she's not entirely sure what, she's not entirely sure why, but there's an understanding. an agreement.
part of her wonders if he's going to close the distance between them again, part of her wants him to.
he doesn't, and Karen tries not to be disappointed.
your bath's gonna overflow.
now it's her turn to sigh, to reach up and brush her hair back from her face. she nods, meetings his eyes briefly - once more - before she turns and heads back into the bathroom. to her bath.
she takes her time with it, too - sinks down into the water and stays there until it turns room temperature, and then cold. she lets her mind wander, vaguely listens to the sound of him moving around in the other room, but mostly tries to figure out what she thinks this is going to be. where she thinks this is going. what she thinks this is going to be, or what she even thinks this is.
karen doesn't have an answer by the time she climbs out of the tub, as she dries herself off and changes into new clothes. she's still toweling at her hair when she steps back into the main bedroom, feeling... exhausted. heavy but she knows she should do some more work. ]
[ He exhales a second time when Karen disappears. Fuck. This goddamn story. It was a hell of a lot easier when he was on her couch, in her home, obviously just the guy standing guard at her door and nothing else. Now he keeps thinking about her lips on his. The way she kinda snores at night, how he's had to take the laptop off her a couple times so it wouldn't smash onto the floor.
How much she knows about him, and she still says, I'll help you.
He opens a window and lights up. The sky's dark, twinkling with stars. A barely-there sliver of a moon. It's nice, actually. The air's fresher than the city's. It's the sort of place he'd stop at for a week before moving on. Maybe he'd pick up an odd job in town for some extra cash. Truth is, he's probably been through here before. He's crisscrossed the states plenty.
When he hears the water drain, he drops his cigar and closes the window. The bed's got fluffier pillows than the ones at the motel. He sinks onto his side—by the door, like always—and cracks open the worn cover of Cujo. He'd plucked it off the free-for-all shelf down the hall. Probably the old lady's copy.
He peers over the book. She's got that look that says she's about to work all night again. His teeth drag over the edge of his lip. He's thought of offering before, then didn't—rubbed too raw from the old footage. Now he finally brings himself to say it. ] Anything I can help you with?
[ when she steps back into the bedroom, she can smell the cigar in the air. distantly, she finds herself comforted by the smell, which is... god. it's only been a couple of days, and somehow it's that that sticks out to her. she can tell he killed the cigar before she came back in, can tell he's closed the window and settled back in bed. it's a new book he's got open, not the one he picked up at the thrift store, and her brow lifts a little. curious, but also... charmed. again.
there's a look that crosses his eyes, then, and Karen knows she's been recognized. it drains any real energy left in her - the poor night's sleep the night before, the fact it's now... what? some time in the morning? she doesn't even know the time, just knows that with her staying up and his travel by night, they're turned almost completely nocturnal, and she doesn't hate it.
she moves her laptop to the bedside table on her side of the bed (her side - because logan's is always by the door. by the window, too, if he can help it.) and she crawls in. she should want, she wants to crack it open, but something stops her, brings her to a pause as she stares at it. logan, apparently picking up on whatever it is that's gotten into her asks to help, and she looks over to him with a tired smile. ]
Six cups of coffee? Maybe like- twelve more hours in the day? [ a few moments pass, and her smile drops into a more thoughtful look. karen's quiet for a few more minutes while she considers what she wants to say, what it is that's bubbling up in her. ]
I'm sorry about...all of that. [ she shakes her head- either to stop him from interrupting or just to shake herself loose a little. ] I know this isn't news to you. You've been dealing with it for your whole life, decades and decades, and I'm just now coming into it and I know I won't ever really get it, not really, but- [ her tone is not sympathetic, despite the apology. despite the way she starts this off. instead, Karen swallows a little, centers herself.
it's not that she plans for the speech, but after her time in the bath, after their talk beforehand, after everything she's been reading and thinking about and learning over the last couple of days, it's hard to just hold all of this in. so she doesn't.]
I want to help, Logan. I want to help you, and these kids, however I can. And that won't fix anything- hell, I don't even know what justice is supposed to look like after this shit, but... [ she bites at her lower lip. a little sheepish, sure, but mostly stubborn. mostly refusing to stop, now that she's started.] I do think the story will help. Maybe it won't be enough, maybe it'll only be a little bit, but I do. And after that... [ she reaches over to him, gently, and grabs whatever she can - his hand, his forearm, his shoulder, whatever is in reach - and squeezes, gently. ] Whatever you want to do, I want to help. If it's finding these guys, or tracking down the others, whatever it is, I'll be there. But you have to trust me on this part, first.
[ a beat, and then she lets go of him, her smile now a little hopeful. smaller than before. ]
[ He huffs, uncrossing his ankles. Yeah, he wishes. ] Only six?
[ A good night's sleep is rare in his book, anyway, but even he's starting to feel it. He went from a few quiet months in the middle of nowhere to watching both their backs. Hers, more than his own.
He expects she'll leave it there. That fine by him. He's already moved past their conversation—sure as hell isn't searching for an apology—so when she starts, it takes him a second to realize what she's doing. He closes the book. Lets her say her piece. The truth is, he doesn't need her to get it. All this, the mutants and the humans, it's—bullshit. Been going on since the dawn of time. And him, he's not a bigger picture person. He sees a handful of assholes fucking up some kids. That's where he's at. He's not thinking about the pieces on the board. He doesn't know what justice is supposed to look like for them, either.
But he knows what it looks like to him.
Her hand's warm on his arm, and not for the first time, he wonders what any of this means. It's not her fight. That's what he wants to say. It's not her fight. Damn it, he wishes he could be the kinda guy who'd tell her, Yeah, I trust you. Let's do it together. And it's not as though he doesn't trust her. He does. It's just—
He's always been so shit with people sticking around. People promising after. Who want to be here, for some godforsaken reason, when they shouldn't. The more she assures him she's not going anywhere, the less certain he becomes this—this, between them, him feeling like he needs her help (needs her) as much as she needs his—is a good idea. Noting he wants is ever a good fucking idea. The world's taught him that much.
He swallows. ] We'll get your story. [ Maybe that's not the answer she really wants from him, but it's the best he manages to dig out. ] I'm gonna make sure of that.
[ The after...guess he'll see if there ends up being one. Still, there's a pause, a second where he looks at her a little too long. He moves without thinking, his hand covering hers. ]
[ a good night's sleep is rare across the board, but she can still hope for it. she knows it won't help, knows that she won't sleep through the night until this story is done, and then probably won't after, but still. the middle ground. the in between.
( she's slept better with logan here than she has in weeks, after all. )
still - she feels better for saying it. even if it's not what logan was looking for, or if it solves anything at all, it's off her chest now. he knows what she's thinking, what's bothering her, at least to some small degree. she gets the feeling that logan's not looking for some larger answers, that his version of justice is smaller, more specific. she knows that isn't where it stops, knows that none of this just ends with a couple of people, or a story, or whatever it is they're actually able to accomplish here.
but she feels better, right now. even if it's only for right now.
we'll get your story. I'm gonna make sure of that. karen gives him a small smile, tired and honest. when his hand moves to cover her own, her eyes go down to the size of it, the lack of scars, the weight. she lets out a breath, seems to relax at that, and shifts a little closer to him - keeps her hand on his arm, presses her shoulder against his and leans her cheek on his shoulder. he says thank you and she breathes again, closes her eyes. ]
I'm glad you're here. [ her voice is small, quiet, as she curls a little against his arm. ]
[ In the end, he thinks—maybe what's changing is his reason for being here. Maybe he came to make sure she'll help the people she says she will, and instead he wound up just wanting to help her. Because she's right. He doesn't know if putting a stop to this will do a fucking thing in the grand scheme of it. But it will do something for her—it'll mean something to her—and that's real. Tangible.
It's something he won't feel like complete shit for being a part of.
Her head rests against his shoulder. He decides to keep his hand there, atop hers. There's after the story, but there's also the real after. The one that comes when he hasn't got a reason to stick around anymore and neither does she. No danger, no threat to keep him at her side. How's that one gonna look? ]
I kinda like it here.
[ What's left of the night passes the same. She dozes or works or dozes again. He reads 'til he finally accepts he should try and get some sleep. Then he's rolling over, a little half-off the bed so they both fit. Crickets chirp just outside the window. It's different from the cicadas everywhere down south, buzzing all throughout the day.
In the morning, he grabs something from the continental breakfast downstairs and returns to their room with a plate of fruit and eggs and orange juice. Not fresh squeezed, not around here, but nicer than the vending machine crap they were living off of before. At some point, he gets to talking to the owner—or she gets to talking to him—and that's how he ends up under the sink, fixing the water pressure in exchange for another night on the house and a sandwich.
Not a bad deal. He's not exactly carrying stacks of cash; every bit helps.
It's also how he ends up at the door the next-next day while Karen's on her laptop or just stepped out of the shower. He could go by himself. Trip to the hardware store is twenty minutes there and back, maybe less. But that's not why he's asking. ]
[ it's something karen doesn't think much about, when she's at this point of a story. when she's this far into the investigation. she doesn't have time, or energy, to really think about how lonely it feels. how, more often than not, she's got these late nights and these anxiety-ridden weeks and the drive, the determination, to have to convince everyone else it's worth their attention. she doesn't like thinking about how deep that feeling has settled in her, and how - because of that habit, of that routine, it sticks out to her that she isn't, here. that logan simply being around is making such a difference. that it's him, here, that makes her feel like she can actually do this, instead of feeling like she's stepping closer and closer to an edge of something she can't see the bottom of.
his hand remains over hers, and she lets herself breathe, to feel the heat coming off his shoulder, his side. she wonders what he's thinking about, if he picks up on what she means when she says after, but she decides that maybe that's for later. I kind of like it here, he says, and her chest tightens - in a good way, she realizes. in a way that has her smiling, though small, and tucking her face a little into his shoulder.
the rest of the night feels like the first few steps of a routine. she naps a little while he reads, then she's up to work a few more hours. she lays down again, right around the time he finally decides to sleep himself, and she falls asleep facing him on the bed, hearing the creak of an old home, the whispers of the wind through the trees, the crickets. she sleeps hard, too, and isn't stirred awake until he comes back with breakfast.
they eat under the window, the light peeking through the curtains, and it feels good. she keeps working, actually has a place to start with the story and pulls together a few more strands of places, of events, of names, and logan heads back out to the lobby, or to check on his bike, she's not entirely sure. they make it through the day, that next evening, and into the next morning when he knocks a bit on the door frame to grab her attention, pulling her from another long, detailed, difficult report, and she has to blink a couple of times before she realizes what he's asking. a break. ]
What time is it? [ she asks, a little groggy from the hours spent bent over the laptop. she stretches, winces a little at how her body cracks. the food he brought her sits to her side, picked at but not really eaten. her coffee mug is empty, at least, but that's about it. ]
[ Logan moves to her side and picks up her mug to sniff at it. ] Definitely time for you to rinse that thing.
[ Also, about three in the afternoon. He stuffs the uneaten plate into the mini-fridge. Starting to feel like he's the only one who eats around here, which is saying something, considering he was mostly living off of bottles of whiskey before he showed up at her door. But since he's figured getting drunk isn't gonna help either of them when more bad guys show up, he's sort of. Stopped.
Anyway, the point is, Charles and the lawyer are probably gonna be pissed at him if he lets her waste away on this story, and somehow, that means he's been trying to actually get her off that damn laptop now and again. It's not a place he finds himself much; he's usually the guy everybody else is trying to get to do things, not the other way around, but. Here he is. ]
C'mon. I promised I'd get her dishwasher running again for a beer and another free night.
[ Does he need Karen to come with him to buy a drain hose? Nah, but—he kinda wants her to. They've both hovered in this half-foot-in, half-foot-out state, and he can't tell if that's on him or her, or the two of them together, but still. Even with all that, even with all the questions circling, he can admit asking for her company is about more than keeping an eye on her or making sure she's safe. ]
[ he sniffs at the mug and karen's face scrunches at the very idea of what logan might find in that mug. it turns into a bit of a laugh, looking up at him as he sets the mug aside and then nodding when he mentions it being time. he has a point, really, and Karen knows that she's been sitting at this desk for too many hours today, so the idea of moving around is not entirely bad. she stands, and as logan moves to put the plate of food away, she goes to the bathroom to freshen up - whether or not she's said it, she's already decided that she's going to go with him.
getting some fresh air might be nice, and she's been staring at the same couple of pages for a little too long, now. ]
Another free night? [ she asks from the bathroom sink, washing her face quickly and brushing her hair back from her face. she glances at him from the mirror, something a bit...not mischevious, exactly, in her grin. but she thinks she might know what he's getting at. ] Hope you're being careful- she might trick you into fixing her roof and then we'll be hanging around for weeks.
[ when the words leave her, she means them to be a bit of a joke - they know what this routine is going to be, a couple of days in one place, a couple of days in another, but there's something about the last night or so that has karen almost hopeful. she likes this place, and she thinks logan might be starting to like it a bit too, and she wonders...
she breaks whatever eye contact may or may not have been there, grabbing the first clean thing she can and moving into the bathroom to change. it's less than a minute or so when she steps back out in the same sundress she'd grabbed from the thrift store a couple of days before, and while it's not exactly what she'd planned on changing into, part of her also realizes they're coming up on some laundry time. ]
So...hardware store? [ she says with a smile, closing down her computer and handing the drive over to logan to place into whichever safe location they've worked out for themselves in this place. karen was able to convince logan not to cut another hole through a wall this time, but they did manage to tape a baggie to the wall behind the dresser.
once it's put away and she's got her jacket and purse, she lets out a breath, about to say something about being ready to go when her stomach rumbles audibly. it stops her, mid-word, before she huffs out a little laugh and a sheepish smile as she follows them out the door to their room and down towards the bike. ]
And maybe food, if we think we can swing it.
[ there is probably something to be said about how quickly she's able to pull herself from her work when he asks, how she feels a kind of sudden spike of energy to be moving. what doesn't escape her is how it feels to have him there to do it at all- pull her away from the computer, drop off breakfast at her desk, bring her drinks. it's been... a long time since karen has felt this taken care of by any means, and while each time there's a spike of I can do it somewhere in the back of her head, she still... it's nice. it's really nice. ]
[ A huff escapes him. Yeah, well. Karen's not wrong. The free nights are a good deal, but he's also found it kinda hard to say no to Meredith, who he's learned is a widow since last summer and has a son halfway across the world in the army and a couple of grandkids living with their mom overseas.
She's lonely. He gets that.
And maybe he doesn't hate the idea of sticking around. Quiet towns with a few friendly folks who don't get too deep in his business—that's the exact kinda place he prefers. He just knows better than to get too comfortable.
Karen disappears before Logan can really answer. He watches the bathroom door close, then slides her laptop into its hiding spot behind the dresser. Now that she's backed a copy up, he's not as paranoid about keeping it hidden. He's still crouched on the ground when Karen comes out. His gaze drifts up to her. Oh. Right. Okay. Somehow, he'd forgotten she got that dress, didn't expect her to put it on. They've been living out of jeans and old shirts this entire time.
Looks nice. The whole...look. He blinks once. ] Uh—yeah. We've got time.
[ They walk, since it's that kinda town where everything's next to everything else. Besides, the day's too quiet for a bike to go roaring down the street without drawing the type of attention they don't need. He grabs the hose, picks up a couple other things, and then ten minutes later, he's holding open the door to a bar at the end out the road. Kenny Rogers floats from the speakers the moment they step inside. A couple of guys gather around the scuffed pool table. ]
Feeling too close to home?
[ He's joking, but he isn't. Bet this is all real familiar. Kinda how it is for him, too. He pulls out a wobbly chair, pauses, and switches it out for a sturdier one. He's not trying to end the night on the ground. ]
[ she absolutely sees the way he stares, just a little bit, when she steps out in the little dress she'd grabbed when they went shopping. notices the way he pauses, and blinks a little, and she smiles back to him as she pulls on her jacket. it's... nice. to be noticed. to know that he's noticing. which is... god. she's feeling that kind of silly fluttering back in her chest again, but part of her thinks it's okay. thinks its even more okay as they step out and he suggests they walk.
the town is small - only a few streets with homes and businesses interspersed. karen finds herself window shopping a bit as they walk, pointing out some of the things in the shop windows, tucking her arm through logan's elbow as they make it down the couple of blocks to the shop.
it's not even really dinner time by the time he holds open the door and she steps inside, but when she sees the small group of locals around the pool table, she supposes it doesn't matter too much. ]
More than you know. [ is her answer as they find their way to the bar, a little off to the side, closer to the till than the door, and she watches logan pull out a chair and then immediately decide against it. it has karen laughing a little, as she slides into her own chair, and then biting at her lower lip to stop herself from laughing too much, as she waits for him to settle.
the woman manning the bar arrives a few moments later, and Karen ends up ordering a beer to start and asking if they have any fried food. mostly fries and onion rings, and maybe some wings too, hun, but I'd have to check. karen asks if they have a burger and some fries, she'd be so happy, but a basket of onion rings works too, and the woman takes logan's order too - if he has one, drops off their drinks, and disappears back into the kitchen after that.
karen glances over to the guys at the pool table and how one of them definitely watched her and logan walk in, but she shrugs it off after another moment. they're not locals, so of course they'll draw eyes. ]
Alright. [ she takes a sip of her beer, turning to face logan with another smile. ] Favorite bar- any state, any place. No limitations. Go.
[ He sees Karen looking, takes a look himself, but around here, they're always drawing a little attention. Besides, they're obviously locals from the waitress hanging around to chat. Nobody after Karen's gonna be a local.
His beer bottle slides across the counter. Ah, yeah, it's that time again, when Karen pokes at him for conversation—and he doesn't mind it, actually. He tilts his head. It's more than thinking about it; he's trying to remember if there's anything in the first place. ]
Milwaukee, probably, back when everybody was coming for the steel mills. Must've shut down years ago.
[ More recently? More recently, he's been—well, not drinking at bars so he can rate them out of ten, that's for damn sure. Sometimes, it's still a little weird, digging through memories he's only got a half-assed grasp on, but it's not bad, either. He's spent so long searching for the stuff that hurts. Never did bother with the things that he'd told himself didn't matter, the haphazard day-to-day shit like what bar he drank at in 1937. Not 'til Karen started asking.
He pushes the basket of onion rings between them, taking one for himself. They're greasy, the breading sliding off, but it's about what you'd get at four in the afternoon in a town of what feels like fifty. ] You? Someplace we oughta check out when we're back in Hell's Kitchen?
[ We. He can't decide if he said it deliberately or not. He doesn't regret it, though. ]
[ karen catches just a glimpse out of logan taking a look at the others in the bar, and notices the way he barely notices them. doesn't seem to care that they're here. she notices the way she physically relaxes at that moment, recognizing that if he doesn't see any issue with it, then maybe it is okay. maybe it can just be an easy afternoon at the bar. ]
Milwaukee, huh? [ she smiles around the neck of her beer bottle, poking at him for more information, especially since he seems open to it now. she turns in her chair, one elbow on the bar, her body turned fully to him. ] What'd you like about it? I can't imagine they had amazing cocktails back in the day.
[ she doesn't push on more recently - she assumes a whole collection of things, from the fact he just hasn't let himself enjoy anything for a while, to the fact he just hasn't. gone to any good places in the last couple of years. karen can't remember the last time she was in a dive like this, let alone being someone who keeps moving as much as logan seems to be.
part of her does want to know, she can't help but be curious about him, about the lives he's lived, the places he's been. but she also wants to be careful with his memory loss, doesn't want to make him feel like she's pushing on something that's already a sore spot.
the bartender tosses them the plate of onion rings and Karen gives the woman a smile, a thank you, ma'am as she takes two and stuffs them directly into her mouth. they're barely decent, but they're warm and greasy and they fit the image karen's been feeling settle around her - small town bar, filled with nineties country music and a bunch of locals in the...well, later afternoon. maybe early evening. you? logan asks, and Karen lifts a brow at him, then shrugs as she bites off some of the extra breading from her fingertips. ]
Josie's. It's something of a local legend- makes this place look like a five star hotel. [ her smile turns a bit...conspiratorial? knowing? and also a little sad. ] The lawyer- Matt? And uh- Foggy. [ logan's heard foggy's name enough of the last couple of days. karen's kept a decent enough schedule turning on her phone only once or twice a day, just to answer his increasingly upset texts. logans also probably gotten at least one exhausted rant about how foggy doesn't get it, any of this, even though he tries, and...
it's easier to talk about foggy than matt. the lawyer. karen takes another sip. ] They've been going for years, used to have this insane tab they kept, and the place was just kind of gross. The most dive bar of dive bars, and the people there were terrifying. [ a pause, and then a shake of her head. ] Until you got to know them, and then you kind of realized that all people are just... people. [ there a pause there where Karen looks like she's going to say something and then decides against it, instead tipping the neck of her bottle of beer in his direction. ]
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no subject
He's not expecting her to come with him. Wouldn't want her to, either. He just wants the information she can put together. It doesn't matter that he could do it himself, that he's tracked too many to count in the past. She's who he's been next to this past week, and she's who he wants to finish this with.
Besides, he's...this is different. Beyond personal. Some part of him's reluctant to dig through those files on his own. Not when he won't know what else he'll stumble across. As much as he doesn't wanna admit it, he could use her help.
He watches her for a moment. Understanding flickers over his face. He glances down at his feet, then back up. Jesus, he feels like he's dragged her into something he shouldn't have—but hell, she was here first. She'd be here even if he hadn't come along. Or she'd already be dead, more like.
He's still gonna hate himself if anything happens to her.
The air's deflated. So has she. He sighs. ] Your bath's gonna overflow.
no subject
for some reason, Karen doesn't think these people are the same.
as far as she's concerned, she's not letting this go. she started this, and whether or not it was for herself or for the people she's trying to bring justice, she will finish it too. if logan wants her there with him or not. she holds his eyes for a few moments, watches his gaze flick down to his feet and then up again, and something settles. she's not entirely sure what, she's not entirely sure why, but there's an understanding. an agreement.
part of her wonders if he's going to close the distance between them again, part of her wants him to.
he doesn't, and Karen tries not to be disappointed.
your bath's gonna overflow.
now it's her turn to sigh, to reach up and brush her hair back from her face. she nods, meetings his eyes briefly - once more - before she turns and heads back into the bathroom. to her bath.
she takes her time with it, too - sinks down into the water and stays there until it turns room temperature, and then cold. she lets her mind wander, vaguely listens to the sound of him moving around in the other room, but mostly tries to figure out what she thinks this is going to be. where she thinks this is going. what she thinks this is going to be, or what she even thinks this is.
karen doesn't have an answer by the time she climbs out of the tub, as she dries herself off and changes into new clothes. she's still toweling at her hair when she steps back into the main bedroom, feeling... exhausted. heavy but she knows she should do some more work. ]
no subject
How much she knows about him, and she still says, I'll help you.
He opens a window and lights up. The sky's dark, twinkling with stars. A barely-there sliver of a moon. It's nice, actually. The air's fresher than the city's. It's the sort of place he'd stop at for a week before moving on. Maybe he'd pick up an odd job in town for some extra cash. Truth is, he's probably been through here before. He's crisscrossed the states plenty.
When he hears the water drain, he drops his cigar and closes the window. The bed's got fluffier pillows than the ones at the motel. He sinks onto his side—by the door, like always—and cracks open the worn cover of Cujo. He'd plucked it off the free-for-all shelf down the hall. Probably the old lady's copy.
He peers over the book. She's got that look that says she's about to work all night again. His teeth drag over the edge of his lip. He's thought of offering before, then didn't—rubbed too raw from the old footage. Now he finally brings himself to say it. ] Anything I can help you with?
no subject
there's a look that crosses his eyes, then, and Karen knows she's been recognized. it drains any real energy left in her - the poor night's sleep the night before, the fact it's now... what? some time in the morning? she doesn't even know the time, just knows that with her staying up and his travel by night, they're turned almost completely nocturnal, and she doesn't hate it.
she moves her laptop to the bedside table on her side of the bed (her side - because logan's is always by the door. by the window, too, if he can help it.) and she crawls in. she should want, she wants to crack it open, but something stops her, brings her to a pause as she stares at it. logan, apparently picking up on whatever it is that's gotten into her asks to help, and she looks over to him with a tired smile. ]
Six cups of coffee? Maybe like- twelve more hours in the day? [ a few moments pass, and her smile drops into a more thoughtful look. karen's quiet for a few more minutes while she considers what she wants to say, what it is that's bubbling up in her. ]
I'm sorry about...all of that. [ she shakes her head- either to stop him from interrupting or just to shake herself loose a little. ] I know this isn't news to you. You've been dealing with it for your whole life, decades and decades, and I'm just now coming into it and I know I won't ever really get it, not really, but- [ her tone is not sympathetic, despite the apology. despite the way she starts this off. instead, Karen swallows a little, centers herself.
it's not that she plans for the speech, but after her time in the bath, after their talk beforehand, after everything she's been reading and thinking about and learning over the last couple of days, it's hard to just hold all of this in. so she doesn't.]
I want to help, Logan. I want to help you, and these kids, however I can. And that won't fix anything- hell, I don't even know what justice is supposed to look like after this shit, but... [ she bites at her lower lip. a little sheepish, sure, but mostly stubborn. mostly refusing to stop, now that she's started.] I do think the story will help. Maybe it won't be enough, maybe it'll only be a little bit, but I do. And after that... [ she reaches over to him, gently, and grabs whatever she can - his hand, his forearm, his shoulder, whatever is in reach - and squeezes, gently. ] Whatever you want to do, I want to help. If it's finding these guys, or tracking down the others, whatever it is, I'll be there. But you have to trust me on this part, first.
[ a beat, and then she lets go of him, her smile now a little hopeful. smaller than before. ]
Okay?
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[ A good night's sleep is rare in his book, anyway, but even he's starting to feel it. He went from a few quiet months in the middle of nowhere to watching both their backs. Hers, more than his own.
He expects she'll leave it there. That fine by him. He's already moved past their conversation—sure as hell isn't searching for an apology—so when she starts, it takes him a second to realize what she's doing. He closes the book. Lets her say her piece. The truth is, he doesn't need her to get it. All this, the mutants and the humans, it's—bullshit. Been going on since the dawn of time. And him, he's not a bigger picture person. He sees a handful of assholes fucking up some kids. That's where he's at. He's not thinking about the pieces on the board. He doesn't know what justice is supposed to look like for them, either.
But he knows what it looks like to him.
Her hand's warm on his arm, and not for the first time, he wonders what any of this means. It's not her fight. That's what he wants to say. It's not her fight. Damn it, he wishes he could be the kinda guy who'd tell her, Yeah, I trust you. Let's do it together. And it's not as though he doesn't trust her. He does. It's just—
He's always been so shit with people sticking around. People promising after. Who want to be here, for some godforsaken reason, when they shouldn't. The more she assures him she's not going anywhere, the less certain he becomes this—this, between them, him feeling like he needs her help (needs her) as much as she needs his—is a good idea. Noting he wants is ever a good fucking idea. The world's taught him that much.
He swallows. ] We'll get your story. [ Maybe that's not the answer she really wants from him, but it's the best he manages to dig out. ] I'm gonna make sure of that.
[ The after...guess he'll see if there ends up being one. Still, there's a pause, a second where he looks at her a little too long. He moves without thinking, his hand covering hers. ]
Hey—thank you.
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[ a good night's sleep is rare across the board, but she can still hope for it. she knows it won't help, knows that she won't sleep through the night until this story is done, and then probably won't after, but still. the middle ground. the in between.
( she's slept better with logan here than she has in weeks, after all. )
still - she feels better for saying it. even if it's not what logan was looking for, or if it solves anything at all, it's off her chest now. he knows what she's thinking, what's bothering her, at least to some small degree. she gets the feeling that logan's not looking for some larger answers, that his version of justice is smaller, more specific. she knows that isn't where it stops, knows that none of this just ends with a couple of people, or a story, or whatever it is they're actually able to accomplish here.
but she feels better, right now. even if it's only for right now.
we'll get your story. I'm gonna make sure of that. karen gives him a small smile, tired and honest. when his hand moves to cover her own, her eyes go down to the size of it, the lack of scars, the weight. she lets out a breath, seems to relax at that, and shifts a little closer to him - keeps her hand on his arm, presses her shoulder against his and leans her cheek on his shoulder. he says thank you and she breathes again, closes her eyes. ]
I'm glad you're here. [ her voice is small, quiet, as she curls a little against his arm. ]
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It's something he won't feel like complete shit for being a part of.
Her head rests against his shoulder. He decides to keep his hand there, atop hers. There's after the story, but there's also the real after. The one that comes when he hasn't got a reason to stick around anymore and neither does she. No danger, no threat to keep him at her side. How's that one gonna look? ]
I kinda like it here.
[ What's left of the night passes the same. She dozes or works or dozes again. He reads 'til he finally accepts he should try and get some sleep. Then he's rolling over, a little half-off the bed so they both fit. Crickets chirp just outside the window. It's different from the cicadas everywhere down south, buzzing all throughout the day.
In the morning, he grabs something from the continental breakfast downstairs and returns to their room with a plate of fruit and eggs and orange juice. Not fresh squeezed, not around here, but nicer than the vending machine crap they were living off of before. At some point, he gets to talking to the owner—or she gets to talking to him—and that's how he ends up under the sink, fixing the water pressure in exchange for another night on the house and a sandwich.
Not a bad deal. He's not exactly carrying stacks of cash; every bit helps.
It's also how he ends up at the door the next-next day while Karen's on her laptop or just stepped out of the shower. He could go by himself. Trip to the hardware store is twenty minutes there and back, maybe less. But that's not why he's asking. ]
How's taking a break sound?
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his hand remains over hers, and she lets herself breathe, to feel the heat coming off his shoulder, his side. she wonders what he's thinking about, if he picks up on what she means when she says after, but she decides that maybe that's for later. I kind of like it here, he says, and her chest tightens - in a good way, she realizes. in a way that has her smiling, though small, and tucking her face a little into his shoulder.
the rest of the night feels like the first few steps of a routine. she naps a little while he reads, then she's up to work a few more hours. she lays down again, right around the time he finally decides to sleep himself, and she falls asleep facing him on the bed, hearing the creak of an old home, the whispers of the wind through the trees, the crickets. she sleeps hard, too, and isn't stirred awake until he comes back with breakfast.
they eat under the window, the light peeking through the curtains, and it feels good. she keeps working, actually has a place to start with the story and pulls together a few more strands of places, of events, of names, and logan heads back out to the lobby, or to check on his bike, she's not entirely sure. they make it through the day, that next evening, and into the next morning when he knocks a bit on the door frame to grab her attention, pulling her from another long, detailed, difficult report, and she has to blink a couple of times before she realizes what he's asking. a break. ]
What time is it? [ she asks, a little groggy from the hours spent bent over the laptop. she stretches, winces a little at how her body cracks. the food he brought her sits to her side, picked at but not really eaten. her coffee mug is empty, at least, but that's about it. ]
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[ Also, about three in the afternoon. He stuffs the uneaten plate into the mini-fridge. Starting to feel like he's the only one who eats around here, which is saying something, considering he was mostly living off of bottles of whiskey before he showed up at her door. But since he's figured getting drunk isn't gonna help either of them when more bad guys show up, he's sort of. Stopped.
Anyway, the point is, Charles and the lawyer are probably gonna be pissed at him if he lets her waste away on this story, and somehow, that means he's been trying to actually get her off that damn laptop now and again. It's not a place he finds himself much; he's usually the guy everybody else is trying to get to do things, not the other way around, but. Here he is. ]
C'mon. I promised I'd get her dishwasher running again for a beer and another free night.
[ Does he need Karen to come with him to buy a drain hose? Nah, but—he kinda wants her to. They've both hovered in this half-foot-in, half-foot-out state, and he can't tell if that's on him or her, or the two of them together, but still. Even with all that, even with all the questions circling, he can admit asking for her company is about more than keeping an eye on her or making sure she's safe. ]
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getting some fresh air might be nice, and she's been staring at the same couple of pages for a little too long, now. ]
Another free night? [ she asks from the bathroom sink, washing her face quickly and brushing her hair back from her face. she glances at him from the mirror, something a bit...not mischevious, exactly, in her grin. but she thinks she might know what he's getting at. ] Hope you're being careful- she might trick you into fixing her roof and then we'll be hanging around for weeks.
[ when the words leave her, she means them to be a bit of a joke - they know what this routine is going to be, a couple of days in one place, a couple of days in another, but there's something about the last night or so that has karen almost hopeful. she likes this place, and she thinks logan might be starting to like it a bit too, and she wonders...
she breaks whatever eye contact may or may not have been there, grabbing the first clean thing she can and moving into the bathroom to change. it's less than a minute or so when she steps back out in the same sundress she'd grabbed from the thrift store a couple of days before, and while it's not exactly what she'd planned on changing into, part of her also realizes they're coming up on some laundry time. ]
So...hardware store? [ she says with a smile, closing down her computer and handing the drive over to logan to place into whichever safe location they've worked out for themselves in this place. karen was able to convince logan not to cut another hole through a wall this time, but they did manage to tape a baggie to the wall behind the dresser.
once it's put away and she's got her jacket and purse, she lets out a breath, about to say something about being ready to go when her stomach rumbles audibly. it stops her, mid-word, before she huffs out a little laugh and a sheepish smile as she follows them out the door to their room and down towards the bike. ]
And maybe food, if we think we can swing it.
[ there is probably something to be said about how quickly she's able to pull herself from her work when he asks, how she feels a kind of sudden spike of energy to be moving. what doesn't escape her is how it feels to have him there to do it at all- pull her away from the computer, drop off breakfast at her desk, bring her drinks. it's been... a long time since karen has felt this taken care of by any means, and while each time there's a spike of I can do it somewhere in the back of her head, she still... it's nice. it's really nice. ]
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She's lonely. He gets that.
And maybe he doesn't hate the idea of sticking around. Quiet towns with a few friendly folks who don't get too deep in his business—that's the exact kinda place he prefers. He just knows better than to get too comfortable.
Karen disappears before Logan can really answer. He watches the bathroom door close, then slides her laptop into its hiding spot behind the dresser. Now that she's backed a copy up, he's not as paranoid about keeping it hidden. He's still crouched on the ground when Karen comes out. His gaze drifts up to her. Oh. Right. Okay. Somehow, he'd forgotten she got that dress, didn't expect her to put it on. They've been living out of jeans and old shirts this entire time.
Looks nice. The whole...look. He blinks once. ] Uh—yeah. We've got time.
[ They walk, since it's that kinda town where everything's next to everything else. Besides, the day's too quiet for a bike to go roaring down the street without drawing the type of attention they don't need. He grabs the hose, picks up a couple other things, and then ten minutes later, he's holding open the door to a bar at the end out the road. Kenny Rogers floats from the speakers the moment they step inside. A couple of guys gather around the scuffed pool table. ]
Feeling too close to home?
[ He's joking, but he isn't. Bet this is all real familiar. Kinda how it is for him, too. He pulls out a wobbly chair, pauses, and switches it out for a sturdier one. He's not trying to end the night on the ground. ]
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the town is small - only a few streets with homes and businesses interspersed. karen finds herself window shopping a bit as they walk, pointing out some of the things in the shop windows, tucking her arm through logan's elbow as they make it down the couple of blocks to the shop.
it's not even really dinner time by the time he holds open the door and she steps inside, but when she sees the small group of locals around the pool table, she supposes it doesn't matter too much. ]
More than you know. [ is her answer as they find their way to the bar, a little off to the side, closer to the till than the door, and she watches logan pull out a chair and then immediately decide against it. it has karen laughing a little, as she slides into her own chair, and then biting at her lower lip to stop herself from laughing too much, as she waits for him to settle.
the woman manning the bar arrives a few moments later, and Karen ends up ordering a beer to start and asking if they have any fried food. mostly fries and onion rings, and maybe some wings too, hun, but I'd have to check. karen asks if they have a burger and some fries, she'd be so happy, but a basket of onion rings works too, and the woman takes logan's order too - if he has one, drops off their drinks, and disappears back into the kitchen after that.
karen glances over to the guys at the pool table and how one of them definitely watched her and logan walk in, but she shrugs it off after another moment. they're not locals, so of course they'll draw eyes. ]
Alright. [ she takes a sip of her beer, turning to face logan with another smile. ] Favorite bar- any state, any place. No limitations. Go.
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His beer bottle slides across the counter. Ah, yeah, it's that time again, when Karen pokes at him for conversation—and he doesn't mind it, actually. He tilts his head. It's more than thinking about it; he's trying to remember if there's anything in the first place. ]
Milwaukee, probably, back when everybody was coming for the steel mills. Must've shut down years ago.
[ More recently? More recently, he's been—well, not drinking at bars so he can rate them out of ten, that's for damn sure. Sometimes, it's still a little weird, digging through memories he's only got a half-assed grasp on, but it's not bad, either. He's spent so long searching for the stuff that hurts. Never did bother with the things that he'd told himself didn't matter, the haphazard day-to-day shit like what bar he drank at in 1937. Not 'til Karen started asking.
He pushes the basket of onion rings between them, taking one for himself. They're greasy, the breading sliding off, but it's about what you'd get at four in the afternoon in a town of what feels like fifty. ] You? Someplace we oughta check out when we're back in Hell's Kitchen?
[ We. He can't decide if he said it deliberately or not. He doesn't regret it, though. ]
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Milwaukee, huh? [ she smiles around the neck of her beer bottle, poking at him for more information, especially since he seems open to it now. she turns in her chair, one elbow on the bar, her body turned fully to him. ] What'd you like about it? I can't imagine they had amazing cocktails back in the day.
[ she doesn't push on more recently - she assumes a whole collection of things, from the fact he just hasn't let himself enjoy anything for a while, to the fact he just hasn't. gone to any good places in the last couple of years. karen can't remember the last time she was in a dive like this, let alone being someone who keeps moving as much as logan seems to be.
part of her does want to know, she can't help but be curious about him, about the lives he's lived, the places he's been. but she also wants to be careful with his memory loss, doesn't want to make him feel like she's pushing on something that's already a sore spot.
the bartender tosses them the plate of onion rings and Karen gives the woman a smile, a thank you, ma'am as she takes two and stuffs them directly into her mouth. they're barely decent, but they're warm and greasy and they fit the image karen's been feeling settle around her - small town bar, filled with nineties country music and a bunch of locals in the...well, later afternoon. maybe early evening. you? logan asks, and Karen lifts a brow at him, then shrugs as she bites off some of the extra breading from her fingertips. ]
Josie's. It's something of a local legend- makes this place look like a five star hotel. [ her smile turns a bit...conspiratorial? knowing? and also a little sad. ] The lawyer- Matt? And uh- Foggy. [ logan's heard foggy's name enough of the last couple of days. karen's kept a decent enough schedule turning on her phone only once or twice a day, just to answer his increasingly upset texts. logans also probably gotten at least one exhausted rant about how foggy doesn't get it, any of this, even though he tries, and...
it's easier to talk about foggy than matt. the lawyer. karen takes another sip. ] They've been going for years, used to have this insane tab they kept, and the place was just kind of gross. The most dive bar of dive bars, and the people there were terrifying. [ a pause, and then a shake of her head. ] Until you got to know them, and then you kind of realized that all people are just... people. [ there a pause there where Karen looks like she's going to say something and then decides against it, instead tipping the neck of her bottle of beer in his direction. ]
Josie's going to love you.