Title: Truth
Rating: PG13
Category: Shipper
Disclaimer ** Wolverine and Rogue and all the x men belong to Stan Lee, Marvel Entertainment, and 20th Century Fox.
I own nothing – I just borrow them but I always give them back!**
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“I’m gonna be leaving soon.”
Leaving. He hears the word clearly. He wishes he hadn’t but there was no doubt he heard correctly. Leaving. It cuts him deeper than it should, [or than he thought it could.] He is immediately aware of pain, real pain as he feels himself being torn apart inside. It’s only one word - leaving - strange how out of the blue he remembers something about sticks and stones - words and how they could not and should not hurt you, and he can’t remember a single incident in which they ever have, until now. It’s just one word but it must be concealing a blade of some kind, one that inflicts the maximum amount damage, one that is sharp but jagged and twists and rips instead of making a clean cut. It’s one that makes you bleed. He doesn’t understand why though, or maybe, just maybe he allows himself, it’s more that he doesn’t want to or wont let himself understand. Leaving. Over and over again he hears the word. Leaving. Leaving. Leaving. There’s nothing else, the rest of his mind is void, concentrating entirely on that one word, he feels empty except for the pain. Leaving.
Leaving soon. It’s an improvement, he’s got two of her words spinning around now, leaving soon. He doesn’t need both though because they amount to the same, he can shorten it, keep it easy, simple. Leaving. Now, soon, later, doesn’t matter, any of these words are pointless in their existence, they don’t change the outcome of the first. Leaving.
It takes him a fraction of a second for his mind to catch up. There’s a word he thinks, it fits, it’s meaning not lost on him at this precise moment in time and he almost smiles at the sheer mockery of it - Irony. He’s staying. Opposites. Staying. Leaving. It seems almost appropriate for him somehow, poetic justice, punishment for all his sins. Life, his life, nothing ever changes. Perhaps that’s the way it should be.
It’s the same actions of the past [of their past] being played out, it’s just that the players in the game have switched places. It bothers him. It shouldn’t, he knows this but it does none the less.
Leaving. He takes a moment to look up and check that it’s really her standing in the doorway, he heard the words, or some of them at least, he knows there was more said but he kind of got stuck on the leaving part. He knew it was her, he has a built in alarm system that seems to be set just for her. Whenever she’s near he just knows, doesn’t need to hear her, doesn’t need to see her, he just knows. He knows it was her. His alarm went off, loud and clear. He could even hear her, smell her, and see her. Fact. Yet he still needs more confirmation. Somehow he just can’t join all the dots together.
Logic. Its up there with Irony on his list of words that are just mistakes added to the dictionary, put in there with the sole purpose of fucking up his life. Logic - the science of reasoning and deduction and he’s trying everything in his power to reason and deduct his way into making this situation anything but what it is. He locks his eye’s with hers, tries desperately to see something else, anyone else, but no matter what you do, logic is logic, irony is irony, fact is fact and the truth is a bitch. It seems life is just fucked up, his life anyway. This he already knew.
Staying. He had decided against his normal reaction. He would not run but stay. Stay to give them time to heal, stay to protect, just stay. Such a foreign concept for him, something he’s never thought of doing let alone done. Therefore something he’s not used to or accustomed to, it’s so far removed from what he considers natural but decided none the less. Stay.
Leaving. Uncomplicated, or at least it was for him. Never stick around, keep moving, keep searching. A good life, Uncomplicated. Easy. But that was then. And that was him.
His past, never knowing, always looking, a distraction from living he will admit that much at least. What use is a past? It’s a question he has often allowed himself to ask, yet no matter what his answer, and it could change from day to day, he was still always just as determined to find it. A future? That question was never asked, was always conveniently forgotten, banished to the depths of within for fear of admitting the truth, and that was that there wasn’t one, not for the likes of him anyway, nothing more than the life he already had, and that was, in it’s simplest terms - survival. He realised once he had made his decision to stay that his determination to find the past he once craved had wavered. What was important? now that was the question. Obviously it was no longer his past, or rather it was less important than it used to be. What changed? maybe that was the question.
Complications. Avoid complications. It should have been his motto. Probably was. Is it still? His whole life had been built to avoid complications. Staying would imply that maybe he was ready to include at least some complications in his life. Living in one place, living with the same people, that would definitely lead to complications. He would have to assume that he was not the easiest of people to be around let alone live with on a day to day basis. He knew that he himself would not find it easy to be around people all the time, hell, he knew he didn’t find it easy at any time to be around people in general, for even the shortest length of time. So complications it seemed to some degree he was ready to accept into his life.
Truth - now there was a word. He already had a complication in his life and she was doing her best right at this moment to complicate it even more. Leaving. Fuck.
“I’ll miss you Logan.”
Oh god, more pain. I’ll miss you.
Leaving. I’ll miss you. Again more is said but this is all he hears. He’s stuck again. I’ll miss you. He can’t say the words, want’s to, needs to he thinks but he can’t. He doesn’t fully understand let alone know how to convey that he will miss her too. He always does, but it’s different this time. Why? He leaves, he misses her, he comes back, he leaves. Circles. No end, no beginning. A comfortable journey, easy, uncomplicated. This is how it was. He had conceded that there were a few angles being formed in his circle, misshaping the norm. she was one of them. he decided to stay.
He has always known, if he’s honest with himself, that every time he left he knew that he would be back. He had to, there was never a choice. He was drawn back. To her, because of her. Always her.
This is different. This time its her who’s leaving. Its no longer in his control.
He watches her, searches her eye’s. He doesn’t know quite what he’s looking for but he needs to find something - meaning? Truth? Hope? He see’s nothing. There was a time when he could see everything, she was always so open to him, only to him he realises. She has become good at shielding herself from him, building up walls to keep him out, no longer open. He doesn’t like it.
Right from the start he could see, the strangest thing was that so could she. No-one has ever been able to see him. She did. She saw straight through the hard ass bullshit as she called it from day one. She was never scared , not that she had a reason to be but he had never known anyone not to be scared of him. It was a good safety mechanism that kept people away, not her though, never her. He wasn’t familiar with the concept of being ‘open,’ of someone being able to read him so well. He tried to hide, still tries to a certain degree but she always sees, see him. Sees more than he believes is there but she believes, believes with a passion, with conviction, in him. Or she did.
The walls she has built are tough and strong, surrounding her, to hide? From him? Why? Its frustrating, he hates that she can hide herself, he likes to be able to see. Leaving. I’ll miss you. Her words were strung together like listening to a foreign language, his mind missed most just comprehended a few. Leaving. I’ll miss you. He is stuck. He cannot think straight. She’s Leaving. Leaving him. Alone. Again.
It doesn’t feel right, everything is wrong, this is not what is supposed to happen. This is as far removed from every variable he could ever have imagined, she wasn’t supposed to leave.
Love. that’s what he could see, it frightened him, but at the same time he liked the feeling. She loves him, this he thought he knew but why would she leave if this was the truth. He can’t see it anymore, she’s hidden it or........... maybe he was wrong, maybe everyone else was right, maybe it wasn’t love.
“Why?” It’s all he can manage and he’s surprised he even managed that much. His throat is dry, his voice is cracking and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. His palms are clammy, he can’t seem to breath and his pulse is racing. He’s feeling such an intensive pain but it’s not the kind of pain he’s ever felt before. He can’t explain it, can’t explain any of it. He’s confused, why would she leave? he doesn’t understand and he needs to know. He will wait for the answer even though he is not sure he want’s it. He will not admit he is scared.
Either way the answer will not be the right one.
He knows that maybe he’s started the ball rolling with that one small question and he’s knows he’s not ready for it. But he betrays himself because he needs to know.
Time. This is why he is staying. Giving himself the time. Deep down in the places that apparently only she can see, he does know the truth, hasn’t admitted it yet, but he knows it’s there. Maybe she’s known all this time or maybe not. Maybe she’s tired of waiting for him. Maybe she’s just tired of him. Leaving. He hates that word. It’s another word in his increasing list that can burn in hell as far as he’s concerned. How did everything get so fucked up so quickly?
“I think you know why.”
But he doesn’t, he doesn’t know anything anymore, doesn’t understand. Leaving makes no sense if she loves him and he was so sure she did. Time, god he needs time, he needs to think and he can’t. She’s taking everything away from him. Leaving. I’ll miss you.
Clarity. Maybe just a moment of it, a sudden awareness of how things were, that he kept leaving despite the way he felt, and he did know how he felt, does know. Did she know that he’d be back? He always told her he would but did she really know? Is what he’s feeling now how she felt each time he left? She’s leaving, she does love him and that could now make sense.
She’s forcing him, forcing him to admit or continue lying. Is that why she’s leaving? She needs to know? He thought she’d understand how hard this would be for him, knowing and accepting are completely different, this [whatever it is] is completely foreign to him, it consumes and overwhelms, it frightens because of it intensity, it’s new and unknown and he thought she’d understand that it would take him time. How long has it been? Time moves a lot slower for him, he sometimes forgets that fact. Maybe she’s just reminding him. “I need to hear you say it” And now it’s him who’s doing the forcing. He needs the truth now no matter what. There will be consequences that will need to be dealt with but right now he just needs to know.
“Because I love you.”
And there it is. Simple. Because I love you. He is surprised how it makes him feel. Not many minutes ago he was scared and afraid of what she would say. He lets himself admit that this is the answer he wanted. He hasn’t had time to comprehend exactly what it means [for him, for her, for them,] but right now there is relief running through him that she still feels something for him, and he allows himself a smile that the something is love.
He can see it now, her walls are falling. He is glad, this is how she should be. “Wouldn’t that make you want to stay not leave?” He realises as soon as the words leave his mouth that he is selfish. Until now he didn’t stay, why should she. He liked to know that she loved him, that she would be there whenever he came back but he doesn’t like the idea that this, her being the one to leave, would mean he will be the one left waiting.
His protection of her, inbuilt from the beginning, like instinct - just there, was not because she couldn’t take care of herself, because she can, could even then, what could have been a lifetime ago with all that’s happened since, she was so much stronger [in more ways than one] than she looked. She’s perfectly capable of giving as good as she gets and his protection is not required or needed, it’s given though, not because of her need but because of his. His need to ensure her survival above and over his. His mind is telling him that there is a question there, one that he should ask himself, the answer he suspects is there too but he has no time. It’s too much too fast.
His and everyone else’s excuses and reasons for his somewhat unusual, unorthodox or to some simply weird or strange feelings towards her, applied when the need arose are all flying out of the window and being overwritten with the only thing left - the truth. He is not [as he has already admitted in part to her], her father or her brother he is not even as most think her friend. He is not yet her lover and he thinks maybe the word yet should tell him something. He is not her boyfriend or her husband. He doesn’t know the right classification, the right word to describe what he is, what she is to him, he doesn’t know even if there is anything to describe it, he does know that it is more than all of these things, whatever it is. It is extreme, deeper, almost primal and it haunts him with a vengeance.
“It’s hard to be in love with someone who’s not in love with you”
She looks resigned, sad. She doesn’t know, he thought she did. How could she not know? She always sees, always understands. He suspects the likelihood of possessing a soul is a myth, a comfort for those who believe in something more than just life - death the end, but if he does have one he would have sworn she would be able to reveal it’s secrets. Assumptions. Another word for the bin. “How do you know if they’re in love with you or not?” he’s not thinking straight because with that question he realizes he’s just set himself up.
“I used to think it was easy just to tell, but sometimes the mind plays cruel tricks on you and you can see and believe things that aren’t really there, sometimes you need to hear it, either way.”
Truth or lies, the only choices left. He can feel her watching, waiting.
Leaving. He knows now, if she leaves she won’t be back. She’s used up all the time she’s willing to give. He’s staying, wanted to stay, for them [that would be a lie] for her [that would be the truth.] She changed him, awoke something inside of him, he can’t explain it, doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to or even if he needs to or wants to. What he does know now, in this moment, is that it is not wrong, he is not wrong. Whatever he had thought or others had thought about him, them or the way that they feel, it is not wrong.
There’s no more time, its his decision, she’s told him the truth and left him to decide. Admit the truth or continue lying. Ask her to stay or let her leave. “Stay” please don’t leave me - these words he does not say but he hopes she understands that this is what stay means.
“Why?”
It’s not over, not yet. He hasn’t said enough, hasn’t said it all. He knows he doesn’t want her to leave, not alone anyway, not without him. He’s learning things quickly or having to admit them quickly either way he learning. He needs her and he’s never needed anything before, more to the point he’s never needed anyone before. It’s a new concept for him, well maybe not so new, it’s been there since the day he first laid his eyes on her. Lightening striking, cupids bow, fate or whatever the hell it was something’s never been the same since, he’s never been the same since. Good or bad? Another question. Different yes but he can’t wish things to be any other way, not now. Leaving. I’ll miss you. These words terrify him. He’s tired, of what he’s not sure but he thinks maybe it’s time to find out. He doesn’t want to miss her anymore he just wants her full stop, end of story. Take the risk or let it burn. Does he have a choice?
“Because I love you.” No choice, just the truth. The words when he finally manages to say them pass from his lips stronger than he would have thought. Not said in a whisper, but strong and with confidence and absolute certainty. He means it. He loves her. Simple. Easy. Don’t leave, don’t leave me.
He watches her, her smile, getting wider by the second, her eye’s bright and sparkling no longer full of sadness. He did that. He likes that he did that. She is beautiful [this he already knew.] She is everything [this he has just admitted.] She walks slowly to where he sits on the edge of the bed and he can’t stop himself, doesn’t want to as he reaches out for her. He stands, takes a hold of her hand and pulls her the rest of the way so he can wrap himself around her. This is not the first time he has held her yet is was never like this, that was before the truth, nothing had been exactly fake but it was all hidden behind lies and this time it‘s different, more, so much more. “I love you” he says it again just because he knows he can and because he likes what it does to her.
“I love you too.”
And he thinks he could spend eternity listening to those words if she’s the one saying them. “Stay” he asks her again because he realises that not everything is resolved. “Stay with me” he adds just in case she doesn’t fully understand the implications and it’s too late for any half measures now, it’s all or nothing and he can’t go back to nothing.
He knows now as he stands with her enveloped in his arms that he couldn’t let her go even if she wanted him to. If she leaves, he will follow but if she leaves him, he will break. He doesn’t like the realization of that fact. He is no longer reliant on just himself but dependant on someone else just to feel alive.
Alive, this is the word that it boils down to - He is alive, all because of her. His life before her and after her could be narrowed down to two simple words - dead and alive. Once your alive he realises you fight to stay that way, and he will, he will fight with everything he’s got to keep this feeling, to keep her.
“Always.”
Always, he thinks is definitely a good word, one he likes. “Always” he repeats her word back to her as he leans his head down and slowly presses his lips to hers.
His journey from here on in will no longer be a circle but a line, he doesn’t know where it will take him but he knows it will be with her and that he knows is all that matters. He has lost all his fear, his pain too and all because she made him accept the truth.
Always he thinks is a very long time and he can live with that.
The end.
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Story Notes:
I appologise for the mistakes that are no doubt in here in abundance but I'm on my own when it comes to checking and to top it off I've decided to join the modern world and have bought myself a laptop - take into account that I have enough trouble with the desktop, and you have a major problem!