Control: An X-Men Adventure and Wolverine Romance

Cheap Whiskey

It wasn't until many months after the bar fight that our paths would cross again. It was winter and the snow had come down in huge drifts overnight. I had taken brief shelter inside another dive bar, this time about thirty miles north of the last. The cheap whiskey was helping to warm me up. I sat at the bar reading what the latest newspapers had to say about the "mutant problem". Just as I was wondering if I was destined to spend the rest of my life in these dead end bars which felt like a weird kind of purgatory, the door flew open with an icy blast of wind. Some snow flew in before the figure forced the door closed and shook himself off.

Immediately I recognised him as the cage fighter, Logan. He sat at the bar next to me without having realised who I was. I asked for another glass of whiskey and slid it towards him along the bar. He looked up and the realisation dawned.

"Cass... right?"
"Yeah. Logan?"

He nodded and I sat down again next to him.

"So what brings you round these parts?" I asked.
"I was uh... taking a trip up to Alkali lake."
"Alkali lake? There's not much up that way, I'm surprised you didn't freeze solid".
I wondered what he wasn't telling me.
"Yeah... anyway, what about you? What are you doing here?"
"Oh i'm just... drifting," I replied. Which wasn't really a lie. I just neglected to mention the running part.
"Uh huh," he responded, clearly unconvinced.

At that moment, the TV cut through the quiet bar:

"The mutant problem is not going away any time soon. We need to know the threat that each of these individuals pose to our nation. They could be anywhere, any one of us. They could be sat next to you right now and you wouldn't know it..."

We both glanced around the bar a little uneasy. I wondered what his views on the subject were. The bartender began muttering about "those damn abhorrations" and my heart sank - if I'd have known his views, I would never have given him my money for his terrible whiskey.

"You, uh, wanna get out of here?" I asked Logan, suddenly aware of eyes on us.

"Sure," he answered, seeming to notice as well.

"I can give you a ride in my truck if you need," he added.

After stepping out into the snow, I noticed that he had a beautiful motorbike strapped down in the back.

"Nice bike".
He laughed at some personal joke that was lost on me as we climbed into the front of the truck.

The engine rattled to life and the tire chains served us well as we pulled out of the small lot and set out onto the open road. I could see my breath and reached for the heater dial at the same time as he did, accidentally knocking hands.

"Sorry," I blurted out.
"It's fine."

I looked out of the window at the glistening distant pool of water that was Alkali lake, lying like a silver disk in the cupped hands of the steep mountains. It looked almost beautiful from this distance.

"So what's with the jacket?" Logan asked, finally breaking the growing uncomfortable silence.
"Oh, that. It's my name for the ring".
"You ended up fighting in the cage?"
I chose not to take offence to his disbelieving tone.
"Had to earn my keep somehow, after you left, they needed more fighters. Besides, the bartender told the manager about our little scuffle in the bar with those guys - so he offered me a job".

Logan chuckled.
"Well, don't look so surprised. What was it you said? I got moves?" I laughed back, mocking his gruff tone of voice.
Our laughter died down and we drove in silence again for a while.

Finally, he broke the lull in conversation.
"So why do they call you Grizzly?"
"Fuck around and find out," I joked.
"Fair enough" he said with a raised eyebrow.
"No, but you know what it's like. You need a tough name to sell the fight, may as well go with something local... the wolverine was a tough act to follow."
I shrugged as I explained.
A faint smile spread across his face for a moment. It was nice to behold - perhaps because he seemed so reserved and stony faced by default. It made me wonder what sort of a life he'd had.