On the other side of town

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

Some things never change.

Ramon lights up another cigarette. Half a dozen butts litter the street by his feet.

He knew the minute he saw Issac's body. The additional data Mr. Lensherr sent along only confirmed it. This shouldn't be possible. Isaac's killer has been dead for over twenty years.

Ramon stares at the juggling rooster on the Cock and Balls bar sign. He doesn't have to do this. He could send in Mortimer or Dominic instead. They've never met the man.

He doubts they'd survive.

The broken glass outside the window, layers of peeling paint on the badly repaired doorsill, and strong stench of whiskey and cigar smoke are like a set piece from the worst part of his past. They should've stayed in Europe. America is too cold, too hard.

He takes one last drag on the cigarette and lets it fall to the ground. Time to go to work.

Comments

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

Confusion rattles his expression, oblivious to the impromptu audience. "What th' hell? Ya just told me a couple hours ago ya walked away th' day Marion was born. Said ya had yer reasons."

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

"Who the hell is Marion?"

Anger wells up in him. "You were still alive. You son of a bitch! You left me there to die. I looked, you know. Every couple of years. I looked until not even I could hide behind my denial."

Ramon kicks him in the groin.

"And here you are. Still alive after all."

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

Even Logan can't not react to that.

"Sonofa ... will ya quit fer two seconds?" He grabs the offending foot, stilling it as he glowers up at her. Him. Whatever the hell she's calling herself now. "I did nothin' of th' sort." Pause. The frown deepens. "Why th' hell are ya askin' me that? I just told ya in th' hotel. She's yer daughter. What, ya get whacked in th' head after ya left?"

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

Anger darkens Ramon's gold eyes into amber.

"Xavier killed our daughter, arschlock. I barely made it out with our son."

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

Eyes narrow. "No. They told me you were dead at th' hospital. Died in childbirth, they said, but then I found ya were poisoned. I saw th' damned tox report!" His growl has been rising in volume in strict correlation to his state of confusion. The photograph from earlier is held out in front of him. "She ain't dead, Raven. There. That's yer daughter. Our daughter." Wait. "There was no son. Just her."

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

Ramon stares at the photo hungrily. His fingers move over the girl's features, as though trying to memorize every pore. "She can't be...". He looks up. "I saw her body!"

Ramon shifts into a tall, lean young man with dark blue fur, unusual hands, and a tail. "This is our son." Ramon never caught the knack of photos. It's easier to show.

"And the name is Ramon. Raven died at that hospital."

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

Logan stares at him for a long, long moment.

Then he buries his face in one callused hand with a soft curse.

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

Ramon shifts out of Kurt's form and back into the body he's found comfortable for the last twenty years.

This is the last man who saw him as a woman. The father of his son. And of his daughter. He's supposed to be here to kill him.

Instead, he buries a hand in Logan's wiry hair. "Did you even ask to see a body? I came back for proof of yours. It'd been decapitated. I thought...I thought that was enough. Even for you."

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

"'Course I did. Think I'd accept anythin' less?" A hand stays Ramon's. "Don't -- " He has this thing about being touched without permission. This just isn't making sense.

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

"Logan."

Ramon's hand falls to his side. He knew the moment he saw Isaac's body. Mr. Lensherr's information confirmed it beyond a shadow of a doubt. But now that he's here, it's hard to believe his senses.

"You promised. Everyone else would fade away and die on me over time, but you promised you'd always be there. And then you died."

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

"Twenty-three years." The wound in his gut is sealing itself as he speaks. "I never went anywhere. House is still where it is. Still drive th' same damn car. I figured Xavier got to ya because I got too close. Been tryin' to take down the son of a bitch ever since." For all the good it's done.

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

"He sent me your head in a bag!"

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

It's absurd. None of the last few hours are making sense. Nothing is fitting where it should.

It starts as something almost akin to a cough. It progresses into a dark chuckle. He has no idea how the hell the bastard did it.

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

"I thought I lost you both. You and...Christ. You named her Marion." Ramon gives him an incredulous look.

"I had to protect Kurt."

He has Logan's wirey black hair, and the same mouth. Deep down, Ramon's always thought Kurt's fur was an evolution of his father's intrinsic hairyness.

"He was all I had left."

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

Logan gives Ramon a look. "Ya called the kid Kurt and yer givin' me grief about Marion? I just lost my wife and had a baby shoved at me with no instruction manual ta boot." He won't say that it took him four days to even come up with it.

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

"I'm Austrian. What's your excuse?"

Ramon grabs the whiskey bottle off the bar and slumps down onto the floor next to Logan. "Damn useless stuff. You're the only person who ever had any idea how much work it takes for me to get drunk."

He takes a drink and passes the bottle.

...

Wife.

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

The bottle's tilted up and drunk from for a good five or six seconds before it's handed back. One big question remains unanswered. "So who th' hell did I just run into at th' Wundagore if it wasn't you?"

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

"What?"

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

"Grow a couple extra ears next time ya try ta get fresh, maybe you'll learn somethin'. Already told ya. I ran inta ya at th' Wundagore a couple hours ago." He's recalling the moments as he repeats it. "Tried ta act like ya didn't know me ta start with ... " Logan stares at a fixed point on the opposite wall. "Smelled right. Kiss felt right. Everythin' did." A longer pause this time. "'Cept when she asked me ta walk away."

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

"Gott Verdammt Schweinhund."

Ramon isn't sure what makes him angrier - that someone out there is mimicing his form or that this man, of all people, could be fooled by the imposter.

"Felt right? Are you that desperate, or have you gone that soft?"

He straddles Logan's lap, frames his face between blue hands, and kisses him.

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

His first instinct is to push away, not to let himself get sucked into nostalgia once more only for it to disappear for the second time in a day.

He can't bring himself to do it.

There's nothing gentle about it. It's fierce and desperate, hungry and demanding, and it tastes of fire, bourbon and smoke.

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

Rough hands are met with an angry need. The musky scent. The ever present stubble. The painfully familiar flesh lost for these last two decades. Ramon devours his mouth. Fingers dig into his skin, as though Logan will evaporate if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

Twenty three years.

Lips drag up along his neck followed by a heavy breath in one ear. "I've missed you."

[canadiansixpack.livejournal.com]

The feeling is most assuredly mutual, evidenced by his grip digging into Raven's - Ramon's - thighs. Pheromones, coarse and thick, saturate the air between them.

The patrons who've remained in the bar are exchanging marked, if somewhat nervous, glances.

[ms-tique.livejournal.com]

Ramon's hard as a steel girder. His blue hands are still wet with Logan's blood.

The smell, the taste - he's going to wake up any moment to find himself clutching damp sheets and calling out the wrong name.