She stared at the thing writhing at her feet in revulsion. What had once been her closest friend and lover had turned to ugly mess of puss and parchment-like flaps of torn skin.
----------------------------------------------------------
It had all started innocently enough. One day Logan had showed up from one of his numerous trips to Canada. Instead of making a beeline to Jean he had come to her. That alone should have tipped her off, but she had been foolish and naïve. Willing to believe that he had finally seen the light and given up chasing married woman. That he had finally realized how good it could be between the two of them.
They had taken Logan’s motorcycle. He had driven them to the city. Instead of a dingy fight bar in some back alley he had taken her to movies and after that to a rather fancy restaurant. Even more reasons to doubt. But she had wanted it to be true. Wanted it so badly that she was ready to accept the fact that he wasn’t calling her kid anymore, but darling instead.
Weeks had gone by, and Logan hadn’t paid any extra attention to Jean, or any of the other women inhabiting the mansion. His whole world had seemed to spin around her. She had taken it as a good sign. It was as if he was finally settling down, ready to dig his roots to a permanent foundation with her.
What was happening hadn’t gone unnoticed from the others. They were talking. Some of them indifferent, put off by their noticeable difference of age. Some of them had encouraged her, even congratulated.
It was a slow spiral towards the inevitable.
----------------------------------------------------------
She had adamantly refused to bring up the biggest issue in their relationship. Her skin. She had been hoping that it wouldn’t be an issue. One night Logan had confronted her when she had been on her way to her room. He had cornered her and told her in no-nonsense manner that he wasn’t going to spend yet another night alone. That he wanted her in his bed. That he needed her.
It had been awkward and clumsy at first, tangle of limbs, condoms and tights, both of them overly eager to explore the physical aspect. Both needing to show to the other the length of their longing and love.
Logan, clumsy in bed? That should have made her worry. Instead she had thought it to be rather endearing. She alone could reduce him to stuttering teenager. And when she laid sated, still out of breath and sweaty beside him… If she found it strange that he seemed to be repulsed by her touch then, eager to leave her for in favor of the shower so that he could scrub off every trace of their lovemaking… She put it off from her mind. Everybody was entitled to their little quirks.
He had been strangely distant ever since. And he had started to take notice of the other women. Never taking it further level than thought she had believed. Never. Except that one time in the kitchen. She had caught him with Kitty Pryde. His hands inside of her shirt and pants, poor Kitty frozen to the spot. Well, he had been drunk. Drunk enough to mistake Kitty as her in the darkness. That’s what he told her. That’s what she let herself to believe regardless of the fact that Kitty had no breasts to speak off, her hair was considerably shorter than hers and Kitty’s perfume was distinguishable enough to even gag a maggot. He had been drunk and made a foolish mistake.
----------------------------------------------------------
It had been going on for a whole year when she heard a rumble of the motorcycle from the driveway. Something made her stop at the bottom of the stairwell. Something made her stop and wait even when Logan was waiting upstairs in his bed for her to come back to him with a can of whipped cream and strawberries.
She had stood there for what felt like ages, then the front door had opened, and Logan had walked in.
He had been tired. Covered to dirt and dust from the road. When he had seen her standing there, with the whipped cream and bowl of strawberries his lips had quirked to small smile.
“I could have used a beer instead, but I guess I could settle for those. How have you been, kid?”
His words had made her clutch the can and the bowl harder. She had forced a smile on her face and greeted him. She had told him that she’d be with him in a second; she’d just have something to take care of first. He had told her to take her time, he was going to go and find Jean.
In his room Logan had been waiting, naked on the bed. Already shivering and annoyed.
“What took you so long?”
“It took me this long because I really wanted to believe. Not anymore!”
She had thrown off the bowl and the cream, stripped off her gloves and latched on to his ankles like a leech.
It had been almost never ending supply of energy. A ghostly being, a specter of sorts. Vicious being which sole purpose had been to keep on living at the expense of the energy it had leached off from her when she slept peacefully beside it.
She stared at the empty, lifeless husk on the floor for a long moment. Then gathered spilled strawberries and the can of whipped cream. Took them with her, walked out and closed the door behind her. Walked down the stairs in to the kitchen where Logan sat alone, nursing a beer.
“Hi. Not hungry?” He asked when she placed the cream back to the fridge and threw the strawberries to the trash bin.
“Nope. Not anymore. Found Jean?” She asked, taking a chair opposite him. Logan nodded, then took a sip from his beer.
“Yeah… Uh… Isn’t it kind of late for you to be up and running around? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Just wanted to say hi.”
“Hi. And bye. I’m going out. But I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. That okay?”
She knew there wouldn’t be catching up. Not tomorrow. No day after tomorrow. Logan would stick around as long as it took from Xavier to dig up yet another clue for him to chase, he’d occasionally tease her about the boys and generally spend his time slacking around and screwing nameless chicks he dragged home from the bars he visited. But somehow it was more appropriate, more appealing than the option she had faced earlier.
“Okay. Behave yourself, old man.”
“Shit. Drag your ass in to bed before I’ll show what this old man is capable of… brat,” Logan huffed, small smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. She stood up, then surprised both of them by walking beside him and giving him a kiss on his cheek where his skin was protected from her touch with fuzzy sideburns.
“Don’t ever change, Wolverine,” she whispered before walking out from the kitchen.
----------------------------------------------------------
Later that night she woke up. It was closer to the dawn, and she briefly wondered what had woken her up. Then she heard it again. A muffled scream. Coming from the room beside hers. Logan’s room. More small screams and shrieks. Logan’s voice, whispering something. Low murmur leaking through the wall, thick with arousal and lust. Small breathless giggle following.
She closed her eyes and let the noise from their copulating lull her to slumber.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Answer to RouDevil's October challenge. The mansion is haunted. And I think my head is haunted by weird and twisted bunnies.