Chance Encounter: Chapter 25 – Picked a hell of a place to run to, Einstein

Picked a hell of a place to run to, Einstein

Chance Encounter
Chapter 25

The wind whipped through Logan’s hair, howling in his ears as he sped down the road, wondering where he’d end up. For a brief moment he toyed with not going back, but knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stay away. He could be a bastard, but not that much of an utter prick. He hadn’t lied to her.

It wasn’t obligation that kept him with her – but he needed to get the hell away, if only for a little while.

Xavier was being less than helpful in providing answers to him, although he was surprised to find that he could remember several key things about the vision that had slammed him to the ground so unceremoniously in Chuck’s office. It definitely affirmed the bald guy’s initial conclusion that he’d been experimented on.

Everything else was blurry – indefinite. Still frustrating.

No – what he needed tonight was something he wouldn’t be able to find back at the school. He wondered if he’d be able to find it at all as the motorcycle roared through the back roads of Westchester county.


Max stood on the front porch, placing a gentle hand on her stomach.

“Holy crap.” she murmured, taking a deep breath and letting it out before stepping back inside. The door closed with a soft click behind her. Jean looked back at her friend with a sad expression.

“Is he coming back?” She asked softly.

Max gave her a weak smile and nodded.

“When he’s run it off, yeah.”

“Run what off?” Jean asked, frowning.

Max shook her head walking over to the taller woman who pulled her into a hug.

“I don’t know if I could explain it in terms that you’d understand. It’s a wolf thing.” Max murmured, relaxing into the hug, but still feeling that crack in her heart from the revelation outside. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? She pushed it aside, not wanting to address it now.

Jean gently placed her chin on top of Max’s head and asked, “Ice cream?”

Max smiled, thinking that it would be a pleasant distraction.

Jean crooned, “C’mon. Let’s go get tanked on Rocky Road. Then we can go annoy Scott.”

Max chuckled softly then as they began walking back towards the kitchen. “Thanks, Dee.”

Jean smiled and chuckled. “Anytime, Dum.”


There it was. The sharp tang of the red stuff.

Logan stepped out of the bar, cigar clenched between his teeth. The scent was coming from off to his right, to the side of the building. The bar was closing down for the night as Logan stepped down onto the gravel, escorting the bartender over to her truck.

The sounds of a vigorous scuffle pricked his ears as he watched her climb into the cab.

“You comin’, cowboy?” she murmured, an inviting smile on her lips.

Logan gave her a sly grin and shook his head, gently closing the door for her.

“I got places ta be.”

The woman sighed and slid her keys into the ignition, her tone smooth and husky as she murmured, “A man like you always does. Take care of yourself, Logan.”

Logan stepped away, watching her drive off. He found it odd that he hadn’t even been tempted to take her up on her offer. It bugged him for a moment, but he shook it off. Once she was far enough away, he moved to investigate the scent of blood.

There was a loud bang that sounded like a body being slammed against a metal dumpster as Logan rounded the corner. A kid that looked like he couldn’t be older than eighteen was being held against one of the dumpsters in the back, an arm jammed against his neck by a man with a brown, shaggy mullet. His two friends were alternately kicking the boy and plucking at bits of his skin which were stretching away from his body to an alarming degree.

“He’s like one’a those stretchy dolls, man. I wonder how far we can pull him ’til he breaks?”

One of them grabbed the boy’s arm and gave it a savage yank. The boy began screaming as his shoulder dislocated with a sickening pop.

Skin stretches, bones don’t. Interesting. Logan thought to himself before he stepped forward and said, “You’ll wanna leave now.”

The boy’s attackers turned to face him and the boy dropped to the ground, crying and cradling his shoulder.

“What – you two wanna fuck, faggot? Is that it?”

One of them advanced on him, his expression nasty.

Logan took a pull on the cigar with a bland expression, blowing out a plume of smoke before darting forward and clocking the man in the jaw. His target´s neck snapped back and he crumpled to the gravel.

“I got better things ta do than send a couple’a fuckin’ snotnosed assholes to the city morgue,” he grumbled as he took the other two out, tossing them across the parking lot.

As he walked towards the boy near the dumpster, the kid began wailing.

“Please don’t hurt me! PLEASE!”

His cries were shrill and hurt Logan’s ears.

“Christ, kid – shutup. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Fucksakes.”

Logan crouched and gently probed the boy’s shoulder.

The teenaged boy looked up at him with wide eyes. He was starting to get shocky.

“Kid, I gotta slide this back in. It’s gonna hurt a lot, and you’re probably gonna pass out, but it needs to be done.”

The boy started whimpering and Logan snapped his fingers in front of the boy’s face.

“That ain’t helpin. You’re goin’ into shock. D’you live somewhere close?”

The boy shook his head, stammering, “‘m a runaway.”

Logan took another pull on his cigar, his mouth turning down into a frown.

“Picked a hell of a place to run to, Einstein.”

The boy winced as Logan grabbed the boy’s arm and shoulder, then quickly forced his arm back into the socket. The kid shrieked once, his body going limp. Logan quickly examined the kid. There only seemed to be a minimal amount of blood on him. Most of it was from one of the others.

Apparently the kid had fought back at some point.

Good sign.

What the hell had he been doing all the way out here? The kid obviously wasn’t old enough to get into the bar.

Logan hefted the teenager up onto a shoulder and walked over to the motorcycle, gently placing him on the ground next to it. He found a small medical kit stashed in one of the side compartments of the bike and pulled out a small packet of ammonium carbonate. He pulled one of the cloth covered capsules out and broke it, waving it under the kid’s nose.

The boy immediately began trying to get away from it, his eyes fluttering. Logan tossed the capsule into the bushes, hating the stench of the damned things.

“How’s the shoulder now?” Logan asked.

The kid frowned and tried to move it, wincing.

“Still hurts, but nowhere near as bad.”

Logan offered him a hand and the kid took it, slowly standing up.

He eyed the kid and asked, “What’s with the skin?”

The boy looked away and murmured, “I don’t know. It started recently, whatever it is.”

“How often d’ya get yer ass handed to you because of it?”

The kid shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “When people find out, they kinda freak. It’s hard to tell how they’re going to react, or what they’re going to do. I just do my best to keep people from knowing.”

“You at a shelter, or on your own?” Logan asked, putting the medkit back into the side compartment.

“On my own. I keep to myself when I can.”

Yeah. Been there, Logan thought to himself.

Kid didn’t look like the type that was strong enough to stay on the road and survive for any length of time. It didn’t feel right, leaving him to fend for himself. Perhaps Chuck wasn’t so crazy after all.

“I think I know somebody that can help.” Logan offered.

The kid looked back at him with a wary expression. “Why would you help someone like me?”

Logan shrugged and kicked a leg up and over the motorcycle. “Hey, kid – ‘f you wanna stay out here and get yerself wrapped around another dumpster, don’t matter to me.”

“No..wait.” The boy stammered, hugging himself tightly.

Logan raised an eyebrow and said, “If you’re comin’, hop on. Either you trust me or you don’t.”

The kid paused for a moment, then made his decision, settling onto the bike behind Logan.

“Don’t you have a helmet?” the kid asked in a shaky voice.

Logan laughed and cut the engine on.

“You kiddin’? Just hold on tight”

He revved the engine and the kid pressed into him, keeping his injured arm tight between them, holding on for dear life with his good arm.

So much for cutting loose.

Was likely for the best, though. Logan was already feeling a little better and he hadn’t broken cover. Leaving a trail of bodies around would be like tossing chum in the water for the people who were already looking for him.


“Whoa. This place is huge.” the kid whispered as Logan walked him to the front door.

“Yep.” he replied, opening the door and stepping into the foyer.

Four in the morning. Will Charlie still be up?

He quietly closed the door behind them and made his way to the Professor’s office, the kid trailing behind him. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see Xavier sitting behind his desk, as if waiting for them.

“How’d you know?” Logan murmured.

The professor responded with a small smile.

“The boy is projecting quite loudly.”

Logan grunted and said, “Kid, just listen to what he has to say. You’ll be okay.”

The boy nodded as Logan turned and walked out of the office, making his way upstairs. He walked quietly down the hallway to the room he’d been sharing with Max, hesitating a moment before opening the door.

He took a deep breath, then turned the handle and stepped inside. Max was sprawled out on the bed face down, the covers bunched around her feet. He smiled to himself as he closed the door behind him thinking that they’d probably need to get a bigger bed sometime in the near future. They were both bed hogs.

He stood and looked down at her, tracing the lines of her body with his gaze. After all was said and done, she made him feel..welcome. Wanted.

She didn’t fear him because she was too much like him in a lot of aspects. With her he could be both the man he was, and the animal he’d become – and she accepted both equally.

It was more than a man like him had any right to ask for, he suspected.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

Her scent changed as she turned to look up at him.

“You home now?” she asked, sleep slurring her words.

“Yeah.” he rumbled, stripping his clothes off and sliding in next to her.

“I’m home.”


MARVEL owns the copyright on their own characters, but I’ve fussed with and taken liberties with canon, and Max is my own creation.

Chapter 1 :: Chapter 2 :: Chapter 3 :: Chapter 4 :: Chapter 5 :: Chapter 6 :: Chapter 7 :: Chapter 8 :: Chapter 9 :: Chapter 10 :: Chapter 11 :: Chapter 12 :: Chapter 13 :: Chapter 14 :: Chapter 15 :: Chapter 16 :: Chapter 17 :: Chapter 18 :: Chapter 19 :: Chapter 20 :: Chapter 21 :: Chapter 22 :: Chapter 23 :: Chapter 24 :: Chapter 25

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