SCARS - WOLVERINE X READER FF

THREE

- LOGAN'S POV -

The truck rumbled softly beneath us as the hours passed. Night had fully settled in, the darkness outside a stark contrast to the cold, sterile facility we'd left behind. Whatever was left.

I moved quietly and sat in the front passenger seat, my eyes fixed on the road ahead, the dull hum of the engine and the faint rustling of the others sleeping in the back were the only sounds breaking the silence.

Cyclops was driving, his hands steady on the wheel, his posture relaxed but alert. He hadn't said much since we'd left that place, but that was fine by me.

I glanced back at the group in the rear of the truck. Jean was resting her head against the window, Rogue curled up under her jacket, and so was Storm. And then there was the girl, lying across the bench seat, unconscious but breathing steadily.

She hadn't spoken much either since we'd pulled her out of that place. I don't blame her. I'd seen what they'd done to her, the scars and bruises marring her skin, the hollow look in her eyes when we first made eye contact—the kind of torture that leaves a mark on your soul, not just your body. But yet, here she was, thrown into our laps, just another complication we didn't need.

Cyclops glanced at me, his face mostly hidden behind his red-tinted lenses. He must have noticed me staring because he broke the silence with a question, that sounded more like a statement. "You're worried about her."

I grunted, my eyes shifting back to the road. "I'm worried about what she might bring with her. We don't know anything about her."

Cyclops kept his eyes on the road, his voice calm but firm. I could already tell he was getting impatient with me. "We couldn't leave her behind, Logan. You saw what they were doing to her."

"Yeah, I saw," I replied, my tone harder than I intended. "Doesn't mean we bring her home. We don't know what kind of damage they've done, or what she's capable of. For all we know, she could kill us all in our fuckin' sleep."

Cyclops shook his head slightly, scoffing. "You always think the worst of people."

I gave a quiet humorless chuckle, shuffling back into my seat. "That's because I've seen the worst in people. You're too trusting, Scott. One of these days, it's gonna get you killed."

Scott's grip on the wheel tightened, but he kept his voice even. "And your distrust is going to leave you alone again, Logan. Not everyone is out to get us."

I didn't respond, turning my attention back to the road. He was right in some ways, but that didn't mean I had to like it. This girl... she was different, sure, but different didn't always mean good. I had learned that the hard way.

A few minutes of silence passed, the only sound being the soft rumble of the truck. Cyclops finally spoke again, his tone softer this time. "I get it, Logan. You're worried. But something about her... I don't know, it feels important. Like she's meant to be with us."

I shot him a sideways glance. "That's a hell of a lot to bet on a feeling, pal."

He shrugged, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sometimes... you just gotta trust your gut. Like we did with you."

I grunted in response. God, I hated when he was right.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, the weight of the conversation hanging between us.

~

Eventually, the mansion came into view, its grand silhouette against the night sky a welcome sight. We passed the sign, which read: