"You're just gonna stand there and let her go through with this?"
With his arms planted on his hips and a stern set to his jaw, most anyone would've thought twice about dismissing Scott Summers at the moment, but that's precisely what Logan did. Shrugging, he reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a jar of mayonnaise and package of turkey so he could put himself a sandwich together.
"That's it? That's all you're gonna say? Or grunt, rather?" Scott huffed.
"Whaddya want me ta do, Summers?" Closing the door behind him, Logan sat his things next to the loaf of bread on the kitchen island and turned to face the younger man. "She's made her decision - if she thinks she's big enough to do that, she can sure as hell deal with the consequences."
As Logan went back to making his sandwich, Scott remained standing behind him, slightly less perturbed, but just as puzzled as he'd been when he first entered the kitchen. Content to ignore him, Logan finished up with the food and put everything back in its place before he spoke again.
"Somethin' else on your mind?"
Scott frowned, not buying how easy this whole exchange had gone. He'd expected some fists slammed and heated words exchanged - not a polite conversation over lunch. "You mean you're not gonna argue my decision?"
"No." Logan tossed a leg over the bar stool, sat, then took a bite of his sandwich.
"You're not gonna tell me that I'm a pathetic team leader and have no idea what I'm doing?"
Shifting the food around in his mouth, he paused a moment while he chewed, swallowed, then shook his head.
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yeah - you should be giving me hell right about now."
"I know that."
Baffled, Scott shook his head and held his hands out plaintively. "Well then why aren't you? You're not exactly one to pass up the opportunity."
After wiping his mouth off on a paper towel he'd torn from the roll on the counter, Logan shrugged and wadded up the napkin. "I've done everything I can do to get her ready - which she is - and you've seen her in action. She's good ta go. Anything goes wrong - it's on me."
Shaking his head, Scott took a step forward and planted his hand on the counter, leaning heavily on his arm. "I should've known it came down to that."
Silence hung over the room for another few moments, and as nonchalant as he was being about the whole thing, Logan couldn't bring himself to take another bite of his sandwich before he figured out what the problem was. "There's somethin' else eatin' at you, Cyke."
It wasn’t a question, and Scott didn't have to answer to let Logan know he was right - he could smell the truth on himself as easily as his feral teammate could.
"Look," Logan offered after waiting to see if his friend was going to say anything. "I have a feelin' I know what's up, so lemme just give you this ta chew on: sometimes you gotta sit back and watch the shit hit the fan before you can do anything about it."
Scott snorted in reply, and even behind the sunglasses you could see the furrowed lines between his brows. If someone would've told him two years ago that he'd be taking counsel from Logan, he would've laughed in their face. "That's pretty shitty advice, Wolverine - no pun intended."
"Yeah, well - it's a pretty shitty world, Cyclops," he answered back in a smooth voice that carried a nonchalance only someone with a mutation like his could muster. If he'd had a cigar jammed into the corner of his mouth, it would've been a quintessential Logan moment. "Kinda like...what's that other saying? 'Ya hafta let 'em make their own mistakes' or somethin' like that?"
As much as he hated to admit, Scott knew that what Logan was saying held more than just a few grains of truth. The hardest thing to figure out was what he was even worried about. He'd supervised the training of all the new recruits himself, he'd made sure that they knew the machinery and the tactics inside and out before he even thought about designating them battle-ready.
"I'll keep an eye on her."
The sudden injection was enough to stir him from his thoughts and he cast a shaded glance back to Logan, only to find the previously relaxed expression on his face gone and a stern set in its place.
"I'll make sure she doesn't get hurt."
Scott almost smiled. Of course. Why would Wolverine worry about Rogue during missions if he was right there beside her, to protect her? He had enough confidence in himself - and in her - to outweigh the worry that she might be injured.
"Ya know, this doesn't solely rely on you," he answered back, feeling a bit compelled, for some odd reason, to ease some of the burden Logan had put on himself. "We're a team here, no matter what."
Shaking his head, Logan glanced back down at his half-eaten sandwich and pushed the plate away. "Yeah, but she’s my responsibility."
This time, Scott did smile. There was no arguing with that and he couldn’t even say that he wanted to. The way he figured it, if Logan had taken on protecting and watching over the Rogue as a personal mission...well, she couldn’t be in any better hands than that.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This was written for the color_i_fic challenge on LJ and I chose the color blue. There are four other stories that are not connected, but go together with this theme.