**You feel deprived**
He hurried to the control room, slamming the door open, his eyes scanning the empty booth feverishly. He couldn’t smell her blood. She hadn’t been hurt. That calmed him somewhat. That however didn’t change the fact that she had left as soon as she had stopped the scenario. She had left, like it had been an everyday occurrence. No ‘are you alright?’, no checking up on him, no fucking ‘bye, gotta go!’ before she walked out on him. Not even ‘thank you, Logan’, which would have been polite.
Well. He had more important matters to attend to. Like gutting Scott. He left the Danger Room and took the elevator to the ground level, his mouth already watering from the thought of finally getting his claws to where they had been itching ever since he had met Scott Summers.
**Do you need a bit of rough?**
Marie had beaten him to it. Large crowd had gathered to where they stood, nose to nose. He could smell her rage all over the place, as well as heavy stench of disappointment rolling off from her in waves. She was screaming and ranting, spit flying to Scott’s face and visor, hands flailing in to every direction, red blotches covering her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She was positively furious, ready to take off Scott’s head.
“…and example for all of us? Is that really the way you want us to handle things?”
“Rogue, I…”
“Fuck you, Scott! I saw the code! You did it on purpose! You knew Logan would come after me!”
“Rogue, no!”
“Do you think I’m stupid, Cyclops? You programmed those droids! They were supposed to target heavy metal concentrations!”
“Jesus, Rogue! Logan wasn’t supposed to go in there! That program was… I was going to see if we could use droids against armed forces, because frankly I have gotten sick of replacing Logan’s whole blood volume after every mission! We, my team, were supposed to go in there armed and see if they were any good against us!”
“Logan! Oh, God… Are you alright?” Scott pushed through the crowd, leaving Marie standing there and grasped his shoulder, scanning him for injuries.
“Hands off, Cyke…” Logan growled, still pissed off, but rapidly cooling down. He couldn’t smell a lie on Scott.
“I don’t like you that much. But you’re part of the family. Everybody’s not so favourite uncle Bob who drinks and cusses and farts at the public place. If I wanted to have a go with you, you’d be the first to know.”
“Don’t push it, Scott… I know you weren’t trying to hurt me but that doesn’t change the fact that I would love to smack you around a bit…”
**Do you leave dents where you sit**
“So… It needs a bit of adjusting…” Scott pondered, dangling a bottle of soda in his fingers. Logan harrumphed.
“Just trash it.”
“How much metal you have in you?” Scott asked. Logan shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from beer he had fetched from his personal stash.
“Who the fuck knows? Definitely more than in a handgun. More than in a rifle or a bazooka? You tell me, your guess is as good as mine. Just forget those damn droids. Tinker with my uniform instead. Slap more Kevlar in it.”
“And listen you whining and nagging how it chafes?”
“Then don’t. I can take few bullets. It’s not a big deal.”
“God, Logan… I’m not stupid. Just because you heal it doesn’t hurt any less to get shot at. Shit! I know you like to play this macho-berserker-bullshit, and I must admit it suits you, but it fucking hurts to see you hugging the toilet and puking up blood and shit after every mission!”
“Aww… Didn’t know you cared, Scooter…” Logan cooed batting his lashes, head tilted slightly.
“Cut it out. And clear up this mess you cooked up with Rogue.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m kicking her out from my team. She’s… She doesn’t fit in. She’s too much like you. Take her back in your team, move in with her, start fucking with her, for Christ’s sakes, at least start talking with her again! Isn’t it enough that you’re fucked up and anti-social, don’t make her the same!”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Still with Robbie, lyrics can be found at the end of the chapter 11.