He wasn’t completely sure of what had happened. He had hazy memories of a struggle. Broken metal bars. Screaming. Blood. Lots of blood. And here they were now. At Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.
He didn’t know where the girl was, but he was quite sure that she was safe. He’d know if something was wrong with her, right? Right?
“Logan, Logan, Logan…” Xavier. Patient and understanding, as always. His face filled with compassion.
“I’m sure that this whole mess wasn’t your intention when you took it upon yourself to try and help Rogue.”
“No.” He stared at his hands, his knuckles in particularly. White as bone, fingers laced tightly together, resting on his lap. So this how it felt. To be ashamed.
“I can see the motive behind your actions concerning Eric. He… He crossed a line that should never be even approached.” Absolution, even if it was just partial did nothing in relieving his discomfort.
“But events that followed… Why must you be so stubborn, Logan?”
He didn’t have an answer to Xavier’s question, but the professor wasn’t probably even expecting one.
“She’s safe. She’s with Jean now.”
“Is she…” He couldn’t force the words out. He knew that she was safe, but was she alright?
“As for your concern of her well-being… She didn’t witness the events that led you back here. She’s still unconscious. From what I was able to gather from her mind, things that she projects even now loud and clear… She’s afraid.”
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Afraid that she’s taken away from you. I believe that her state is due to stress. Her mind closed off when she realized that she’d be taken in to custody,” Professor Xavier explained.
“Can’t you do anything?”
“It’s impossible to get through to her while she remains unconscious. We’ll just have to wait. She must take the steps to recovery by herself.”
Wait. Easier said than done. She had been on her way back to civilization, baby steps, but even that slow and blundering pace was better than this. Better than lying on a hospital bed, closed off from the world.
“You should get some sleep.” Jean, on full doctor-mode.
“I slept enough already.”
“That doesn’t count. You were drugged. You need proper rest.”
“And I will rest as soon as she wakes up. If… If she really needs me to be here, what she will do if she wakes up while I’m away sleeping?”
“Logan, you…”
“No. I’ll wait until she wakes up.”
Stubbornness. Something he had always been good at. Maybe it would come in handy now. Because as determined as he was, he could already feel dreams sneaking closer, eerie tentacles sliding in and out of his consciousness, making his head droop and eyelids heavy. He forced himself to straighten up and shook his head. Renewed his efforts.
He would not be sleeping before Rogue woke up.
As he sat in silence he finally had the time to mull things over. He was stubborn. He was hasty in his assessment. He had a temper that flared often, usually at wrong occasions. He was generally bad news. Bad company. What on earth had possessed him to think that he’d be fit to play a shrink? What had made him thinking that Marie would be better off with him than in here?
As he sat, Jean came by and checked the girl, adjusted her pillow, then left.
He was still sitting there, deep in thought when the girl moved. Her eyelids fluttered slowly, opening finally, and he just knew why he had decided to play the hero.
At first her gaze flittered back and forth, slightly panicked, but when she saw his face she seemed to relax instantly.
He played the hero because she saw him as one.
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