She woke up with a jolt, her gaze flickering hastily back and forth before settling on to Logan who was sitting in front of the fireplace, leaning his back against the cot. She sat up slowly, wiping the small dribble of drool that had escaped during her comatose sleep and yawned.
“Sorry… Didn’t mean to hog your bed…” She whispered. Logan shrugged his shoulders.
“Wouldn’t have slept anyway…”
“It’s the dreams. They’re really bothering you?” She asked.
“From time to time. Seeing Stryker back in the city must have stirred them up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy back at the motel. It came out wrong.”
“And I reacted wrong. Doesn’t that make us even?”
Logan leaned forward, grabbed a poker and stirred the logs a bit, gathering them closer together.
“Have you ever talked about it?” She asked.
“About what happened. What they did to you,” she clarified when Logan gave no answer. He huffed and put the poker back, combed fingers through his unruly hair.
“We talked about it. With Xavier. He tried… It’s either because of something that Stryker did to me, or I’m doing it myself, but I can’t seem to remember much about it when I’m awake.”
“And it all comes back in dreams.”
“Yeah. But it’ll stop. Eventually it’ll stop. It always does.”
“Until something triggers it again.”
“Yeah. That’s why I keep coming here. I got this place few years after I got away from Stryker. There are no bad memories in here. No triggers.”
She mulled it over for a long moment. This was his refuge. His haven. She was a complete stranger to Logan, yet he trusted her enough to bring her here. And her first reaction to the place had been less than flattering. Hawing and hemming over sleeping arrangements? Whining about bathroom?
She reached with her hand, carefully sliding it over his head, over the thick mane of jet-black hair. To her surprise he didn’t flinch, even though he knew about her mutation.
“Thank you. For bringing me here,” she whispered. Logan’s head drooped backwards until he was able to look in to her eyes.
“It was either me or Magneto, kid. The way I see it, you should have a say over when it comes to decisions about your life. From what I heard from Xavier, before he got to you, you didn’t have too much freedom.”
She pulled her hand back, surprised.
“Professor talked about me?” She asked. Logan nodded. Turned sideways and leaned against the warm side of the fireplace.
“Every now and then. Asked me to look after you when I was around. Asked me to bring in some stuff for you…”
“Wait a minute! Look after me? What? You were my personal stalker?” She asked, taken aback. Logan frowned.
“Not like that. I wasn’t… Shit. Xavier paid me to keep you out of troubles. Keep all of you out of troubles. Ever wondered why you got to walk around freely, undisturbed? With Xavier’s logo on your clothes? And on the car you drove?”
“I…”
“Xavier was a known mutant. If I hadn’t been tailing you brats when you went to the mall or just hung out in the city the FOH would have had your heads on a pole under ten minutes.”
“I guess I just thought that we were lucky…” She whispered. Logan drew his knees up and rested his head on them, his eyes still firmly locked with hers.
“You were lucky. I wasn’t there all the time…” He turned his gaze to the flickering flames.
“But I should have been. Xavier called to me fucking week before the attack. Told me he was getting willies. That something didn’t add up. Then asked me to get that dress and return as soon as possible.”
“And you did?”
“I did. Fucking two days late. Got held up at the airport, the ID Xavier had gotten me was already invalid. Took two fucking days to clear up that mess.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It kind of was. I didn’t try hard enough. I just thought that Xavier was picking up projections. They were arranging hell of a shindig for you; people were bound to get nervous and Xavier being a telepath… I should have tried harder. Or asked Summers to come and pick me up. But there’s always been something in that guy… He always managed to rile me up. Decided to wait two more days rather than risk petty squabble over some fucking detail about something I did or didn’t do.”
Log snapped sharply in the fireplace, rousing Logan from his fugue. He shook his head and stood up.
“You up to a midnight snack?” He asked. She was about to shake her head, then consulted her stomach and thought better of it.
“Just a snack? I’m starving. What do we have?” She asked. Logan was kneeling in the corner where he had left his knapsack earlier.
“We don’t have much yet. I’m going hunting tomorrow. Beef jerky?” He asked, waving a thin foil packet in the air. She nodded enthusiastically. Regardless of her earlier distaste for the stuff even the thought of the salty, leathery strips made her mouth water. Logan threw the packet to her, grabbed one for himself, dug around for a while and produced two small bottles of water, then walked to where he sat earlier and handed her one of the bottles.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, just eating and enjoying the warmth. She finished the jerky and sipped her water. Logan was still chewing on the last bits of salty meat, apparently unable to turn his gaze from the flames in front of him.
“Uh… About your dreams…” She started.
“What about them?” Logan asked.
“Can you remember anything at all when you wake up?” She asked. Logan drew in a long breath and held it, obviously pondering her question. Let it out and took a sip from the bottle he was holding.
“I’m drowning. Drowning in to my own blood and it hurts so fucking bad that I’m scared to wake up.”
“Afraid to wake up? Why?” She asked puzzled. Logan finished his water with one, big gulp. Recapped the bottle carefully and then turned to look at her.
“There’s always this feeling… I can almost tell that it’s just a dream. I rather have that than wake up and realize that it isn’t a dream this time.”
Beaten look on his face made her arms twitch involuntarily. She wanted to hug him. Hold him. Make sure that he didn’t have to keep guessing whether the nightmarish pictures behind his closed lids would follow him if he opened his eyes. She forced herself to sit still.
“But you got out from there.”
“And as easily they can reel me back in there when they get a hold of me. If that happens… I don’t want to wake up.”
She couldn’t just sit anymore. She slid from the cot on to the floor beside him and wrapped her hands around him, expecting him to shrug her off. Instead he slung his arm around her and leaned against the cot, relaxing a bit.
“But what the hell do I know… I’m fucked up from the head. Too paranoid for my own good. It’s not like they can just waltz in and take me with them…”
Door of the cabin flew open, banging against the wall with a deafening force, harsh wind blowing snow and sharp crystals of ice at its wake. Logan was up within second, both sets of claws out, his eyes scanning the darkness behind the doorway expectantly, his shoulders shivering visibly. From the tension? Or for fear?
Moments ticked by. When it became apparent that it really had been just the wind playing tricks on them Logan let out a nervous chuckle.
“Paranoid. That’s a fact…” He grunted and hurried to shut the door, shuffling the gathered snow out before it melted on to the floor.
“I’ll have to fix that lock tomorrow. You better go to sleep now,” he said, returning to the fireplace and lowering himself on to the cot. He was still shivering slightly.
“Are you going to be alright up here?” She asked. Something resembling anger flickered briefly in his eyes, and it seemed to take an enormous effort to tuck it down, but when he answered his tone was calm and civil.
“I’m just little jumpy. Go to sleep, kid. You’re no good tomorrow if you keep falling asleep on me.”
She wasn’t sure of what to expect from her chamber. For a chamber it was in her mind. A hole dug underground. She opened the latch and found steps that led in to the darkness.
“Uh… You wouldn’t happen to have candles?” She asked.
“There’s a light switch on the left side. Just slide your hand along the wall.”
“Okay…”
She cringed inwardly, expecting to find cold and clammy concrete under her fingers. Her outstretched palm met smooth wooden surface instead. Then something small and plastic. She flicked it. Light revealed a small room with relatively broad bed, soft rug covering the floor that appeared to be made out of smooth stones. Walls were paneled with some light colored wood. Small lamp that hung from the ceiling gave off warm, golden glow. She descended the stairs slowly and saw a door on her left side. Opened it. There was a bathroom, complete with a real toilet seat and a sink. No shower. Then she remembered Logan warning her that there wasn’t warm water. How was she supposed to keep herself clean? She shook that thought out of her mind as soon as it entered. Quarters Logan had given her were luxurious. She darted quickly back upstairs, finding Logan standing and staring out from the window, his hands jammed deep in to his pockets.
“Do you need something?” He asked without turning to look at her.
“No. I just wanted to thank you. This place… It’s… Thank you for bringing me here.”
“That’s the second time you thanked me. Just wait until tomorrow. You might just change your mind…” His words were clearly meant teasing, but his tone told whole another story. He was unsure and uncomfortable.
“Well… We see about that tomorrow. Good night, Logan,” she whispered and returned to her chamber.
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