Redemption

38, Redemption

Utopia, Home Of The X-Men

"Logan, are you okay?"

Storm hugged her comrade.

"I'm better now that I'm away from him," he said. "We had a fight."

"A fight?"

This was Jean.

"What did he say?" she asked.

"He said I only care about myself," Logan said. "He said that's why Itsu died, because I only cared about myself. He said a lot more."

"Did he figure out what was going to happen before you got to the asylum?"

Professor X rolled out from the shadows.

"Before," Logan said.

"How?" Jean asked.

"We did so much," said Storm. "How did he know?"

Logan looked at his feet.

"Logan? How did he find out? Did you tell him? You weren't supposed to tell him!"

"I didn't tell him," Logan began to explain. "He must have found out on his own. I'm not good at this stuff, that's — that's what he said."

Logan faltered, eyes still on his feet. Jean squeezed his arm.

"It's okay," she asked soothingly, watching him. "He was angry. He only said that because he was angry at you."

Wolverine finally looked up, meeting Charles Xaviers's eyes.

"He was right," he said. "He was right about everything."

I started up at the ceiling of my asylum cell. They had put me in a straight jacket and injected me with something that put my powers on standby for a while. They injected me with it every time I got food. Right now was one of those times.

The door to my personal prison was opened and two people came in. The first person (usual #3) stuck a needle in my neck. The second person (unusual #2) stuck a tube in my mouth then pulled it away after about two seconds. They both left in a hurry.

I don't cry, I can't cry. Crying shows weakness. That's what Romulus said. But who is Romulus? My mind tells me he was a big part of my past but didn't tell me much more. The only other thing it gave me was that Romulus was dead. I glanced around the cell and a shabby apartment room came into my mind. Somehow I knew that I had a couple more months of rent, food, water, and home bills to pay before someone's money ran out. The shabby apartment vision reminded me that sometime in the past few years, I needed a job or I'd be on the streets. Somehow I knew that was where it all started. That was where I had been pulled into my father's war. That was when I was set on a sure path here. I didn't wonder what it would have been like if I had chosen the homeless option. Probably something similar to this. I'm glad I don't remember a lot of why I got in here. It helps that I won't feel trauma. It helps that my memories have run away. It helps that I've forgotten.

"So this is where I leave you. This is where my humanity goes to die. I hope you have a good time on your comfy island, knowing full well that your son is rotting down here. I don't regret a thing I did. If something bad happens to you, just know you deserve it. You are a terrible person, father, and X-man."

That was the last time I had ever spoken to my father. Like I said, I don't regret a thing. The only thing I regret is not running him through one last time. He might not have killed my mother, but he did kill the only sane part of me. The part that got love.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕟𝕕 . . .?