"Diplomacy is the art of saying, "Nice doggy"…until you can find a big enough rock."
"Let me guess, I'm the rock."
Scott nodded. "I doubt that I'll need you, but, yeah. You're the rock."
Logan grunted.
They were heading toward one of the little towns that dotted the coast of lower Maine.
"Why did they deliver the part to such a bumfuck town?"
"I told you. Parts for the jet don't come cheap and they are extremely hard to...obtain."
"So, this is illegal."
"In a sense." Scott exited the highway onto a two-lane farm and market type road. "Should be about twenty more minutes."
"Are we on a schedule?"
"Pays to be early."
Logan leaned back on the convertible's seat. He closed his eyes and let the wind whip past him, bringing him the scents of the woods they were travelling through. "We'd get there even earlier if you'd let me drive."
Scott eased back in his seat, too. The hunter's hat on his head that covered most of his visor flapped annoyingly. It was at least cold enough to get away with wearing it.
He really had persuaded Logan to come with him because he wanted a backup, but he wasn't expecting trouble. He had enough experience in these types of deals to know that he would probably have to pick up the part by paying an additional bribe to some jerk who was storing the package. Since this part was small enough to fit into a shoe box, this whole trip would not attract attention. He had ulterior motives, though. This was one way to get Logan one-on-one and try to learn more about how he thought and acted in situations. As team leader, Scott had to know the strengths and weaknesses of his team in order to be best prepared for any situation and he took his duties very seriously.
When Jean had asked to come along, he had told her to meet them in a little town up the coast for some seafood instead. She and Scott had even invited Rogue, both of them knowing that Logan had a soft spot for the kid. Now that she had graduated and was taking collegiate courses, Scott had expected Logan to try to spark some sort of romance. The kid was obviously willing and was growing into quite a woman. But either Logan still saw her as a kid or did not want to publicly display true affection for any living being. He had flirted a little with her but made no romantic overtures of any kind, to anyone, including Jean. Scott saw this as a good thing, since he was willing to admit to himself that he was somewhat the jealous type.
Logan thought about Marie. He wished there was a way he could tell her he wanted to date her but was unsure of where to begin. He had nothing to go on, no knowledge of how this kind of thing worked. He had no memories of what a tender, loving romance could be. He surreptitiously studied how Scott and Jean related to each other. Logan had a healthy enough ego when it came to fighting and killing and other things he was good at and it came across as cocky. When it came to the unknown area of relationships, however, he could not let his weakness show, not out of fear of what others would think, but more of a deep-rooted sense of self-preservation. His life was already shot full of holes, why rush and put himself into a situation where he would get hurt or hurt someone else? If he felt anything for Marie, he had to make sure he pursued it the right way. Love was not something he was familiar with anymore. He felt a surge of hatred toward the people who had taken that from him.
They pulled up just short of the town and Logan sat up. The place was sprawled before them, carved out of the woods that surrounded it. Population of about 500, it was a collection of buildings interspersed on a main street that twisted its way down near the water where a few old buildings, docks, and warehouses ruined the view of the small bay. A pontoon plane rested on the water near the most dilapidated structure on the worst looking dock. A black car was parked a little further away. There was an old man sitting on the side of the dock, fishing.
"That it?" queried Logan.
"We'll see."
They had hit the town late in the afternoon and the population seemed strangely absent, as if everyone was at home. They parked about a hundred feet from the last warehouse.
"Seen you drive up. You looking for something?" The old man spat in the water.
Scott stepped on to the dock. It creaked warningly beneath him. "Is this thing safe?"
"Safe enough. It'll hold you two."
"Don't bet on it," muttered Logan as he took his hands out of his pockets in case the boards started to break. "How deep is the water?"
"'Bout four feet." The old man chuckled. "You're either late for the meeting or early for the gift."
"We're here for the gift. Should be the size of a shoe box," said Scott.
"Got it right cheer," he sniffed. "'Course it'll cost you."
"How much?"
The man opened his mouth and made the mistake of looking into Logan's eyes. He knew the man picking up the package would be wearing some funny glasses and he figured he could score a hundred out of this young fellah. But the man he now looked at was downright dangerous. He quickly changed his mind. "Twenty dollar holding fee." He glanced over to see how this would set with the dangerous one. The solemn man didn't blink but he didn't seem to object either.
Scott was pleased. The last time he had been taken for a hundred. He forked over the twenty as the man leaned over and started to fetch the box out from under his chair.
"Wait," said Logan quietly. Scott raised a brow at him. The wind had changed direction, alerting Logan to two men who were now walking out of the woods and ambling toward the dock. "Show us a fishing lure instead."
The old man smoothly changed his movements and did as he was told. He gestured as if he were talking about the fishing spot. "Those two are with the men meeting in the warehouse at the end of the dock." Scott swiveled his head just enough to get them in his line of sight but did not let on that he saw them.
Logan looked at Scott as he palmed something from his pocket, then held out his hand and shook the old man's. A fifty slid secretly from one to the other. The old man didn't look at it, he was too keen for that. "What do you want me to do?"
"Just keep fishing. In about ten minutes, gather up your tackle and the box and head into town. Drop the box in the car as you go by."
Scott nodded. "Thanks." The meeting must be some sort of illegal deal and they had stumbled right into it. Now it was anyone's guess what was going to happen but they couldn't take a chance on losing the part for the jet. It was safer with the old man, for now.
He and Logan stepped away from the old man and Scott gestured as if making a decision on where to fish. "Any other assessments?"
"They'll either believe we're fishermen or not. I say not..." Logan shrugged and pointed to the other side of the coastline of the small bay. "They'll probably invite us to the meeting. They're armed. Your quarter, your call."
Scott sighed and looked up at the sky as if checking the weather. "Don't be a rock until you have to."
"Fine."
"Try not to kill anyone."
Logan shot him a feral grin.
"Hey you!"
They both turned and looked at the two men behind them.
"Us?" Scott answered.
"Yeah. Take a walk to that warehouse."
"Why? Does it have fishing tackle? We could use some."
"Move it." The bigger of the two flashed a gun.
Scott raised his hands and took a step back. "Hey! Now look here..."
Logan didn't move.
"Move!" He pointed the gun at Logan and got no reaction. He turned it on Scott and looked at Logan again. Logan reluctantly started to move.
"This is not the way to sell fishing gear." Scott could be a great actor when he wanted to.
"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. When we get to the warehouse, step inside and we'll see if anyone recognizes you. If not, go fish. I don't give a shit." The bigger man rolled his eyes as he glanced at his partner.
"We'll go, but if anything happens, you'll hear from my lawyer."
The inside of the warehouse was dark, speckled with light that shone in from the cracks in the roof. Three men stood around a table a couple of yards away with a few boxes stacked on it. All of them looked up.
"I wish to make a protest," said Scott petulantly.
"Shut up. These two were outside talking to that old geezer. What do you want us to do with them?"
The three men looked Scott and Logan over. "They're nobodies. Do as you like," one quietly said. The other two nodded.
The big man licked his lips. "I guess we'll have a little fun then."
Scott turned to Logan. Logan quirked his brow. Scott sighed as the two bodyguards made ready to pounce. "Fists only," he muttered.
The bodyguards were down within seconds. They never knew what hit them. Scott kicked the guns away and looked at the other three men. "We're leaving now. We don't want trouble."
One of the men pulled a gun. "You found it anyway."
Blades sang out and checked the bullet meant for Scott.
The three men were stunned. "They're mutants!" One of the men hurled a box straight at Logan's head as Scott jumped back and raised his hand to stun them with a blast. A board snapped under Scott's foot and he just managed to tuck and roll away without falling through the floor. He looked up in time to see the box hit the claws. The box and the contents were sliced cleanly in half, showering Logan with some sort of white powder. He took most of the contents in the face. The man with the gun fired into Logan as Scott nailed him directly in the chest.
Logan let out a cry and, staggering, fell to his knees, coughing heavily. His senses felt like they were exploding in all directions and he started to shake. Sensing weakness, the other two men pulled their guns and started to fire. A bullet whizzed over Scott's head, which made him duck and miss his next shot. A bullet clipped Logan across the skull. He roared in pain and launched himself forward, all claws extended. One man fell victim to the adamantium. The other ran and Logan gave chase.
Scott quickly kicked the gun away from the unconscious man and went over to the one Logan had sliced up. The man was in shock and was dying. Bloody froth came from his mouth as he tried to speak.
Scott knelt down. "What was in that box?"
The man shook his head feebly.
Scott shook the man hard, his fear for Logan growing. "What was in that box?"
"D-designer drug...stolen......military...new stuff. Strong...more...heroin." The effort was too much and the man stopped breathing. Looking at the body, Scott decided it was useless to try to save him.
He realized it was very quiet. A pair of boots stood in front of him. He looked up and saw one of the strangest sights he had ever seen. He stood up and was eye to eye with Logan. His lenses always gave a red cast to everything, but he could tell that Logan's face and head were almost totally blanketed by white powder except where the bullet had plowed through his hair. Blood was still oozing from the wound. He could also see that Logan's pupils were extremely dilated, almost to the point where they looked totally black. His chest had been hit by a bullet and blood was slowly making its way down his front. Why wasn't he healing? Other blood was on his arms, not his own, but Scott didn't want to think about that right now.
"Logan? Are you with me? You're not healing. Are you OK?" Scott wished Jean was there.
He was curious. The thing in front of him was not afraid but he could not see its eyes. This did not make him comfortable and he let out a low growl to show he was not pleased.
Scott heard the growl. He thought as fast as he could. Remembering what Logan had demonstrated to the children in survival classes, he lowered his head slightly and assumed a more non-threatening posture.
It was good of the thing to show deference. It must know he would not back down, from anything. He was still wary of this one and watched him intently. The other was dead, he had made sure of that. The smell of fear had goaded him on. This one was different. Maybe he would let it live.
Scott was at a loss. The one thing they had all assumed was that Logan would be immune to poison and drugs because of his fast-healing system. But here he was faced with a Logan who had inhaled a huge amount of some powerful military drug and was now higher than a kite. Maybe he could bring him out of it. The water below them was freezing. If he could knock Logan to the ground with a blast, the old boards might give way and dump him in, maybe snapping him out of this drugged state. He raised his hand to his visor, only he moved too fast.
Logan, sensing a trap, leapt forward and Scott, trying to avoid him, lost his balance and fell. As Logan landed on top of him, their combined weight was too much for the old wood and it snapped, plunging both men into the icy water below.
The crisp air coming from the bay felt good. Marie shivered with pleasure. The temperature was dropping and she couldn't be happier. Everyone was forced to dress like she did and she fit in nicely. She glanced over at her walking companion. Jean also seemed to delight in these kinds of temperatures and had let her hair down to blow in the breeze.
"You said Scott and Logan would be here shortly?" Marie could not contain the anticipation in her voice. A lunch with Logan away from the mansion, even with company, was a rare treat.
"Yes, Rogue. I did." Jean chuckled. The young woman was fairly walking on air and she had a good idea why. As much as she tried not to read others thoughts and keep her mental shields in place, she let the happiness from Rogue wash over her, enjoying the warm feeling. Rogue had all sorts of warm feelings for Logan. Jean could relate, having those same feelings for Scott. Mentally, she reached out to touch base with the object of her affections. She did not read Scott's mind unless he wanted her to, but she always kept a running tab on how he was feeling if he was within her range. She stopped walking. A feeling of horror washed over her as she tried again. Nothing. That made no sense. He was well within range. Even when he was asleep or unconscious she could get something and she had just tagged him a few minutes ago. She looked blankly at Rogue.
"Ah said, "Isn't this the restaurant?" Jean? Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost." Marie cocked her head and looked at the pale face with shocked eyes staring back at her. Her voice lowered and she became deadly serious. "What's wrong?"
"I...Scott isn't...He's dead. Oh my God, he's dead!" Jean began to tremble. Quickly she pulled herself together and reached out to the professor. He was out of her range and did not know she'd be calling on him. She tried Scott again. Nothing.
"Hold on." Marie grabbed Jean's cell phone. "What's his number?" She punched in the quick code she was told and waited. Not even a ring greeted her ear. Nothing. She grabbed Jean by the wrist and dashed back to the car. Jean didn't even object when Marie took the wheel. She just kept trying to reach Scott by concentrating hard and ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks.
That was number three. If he kept this up, he wouldn't be able to help himself, much less Scott. Logan leaned against the tree beside him for support. He rarely, if ever, vomited. Doing so three times gave him a clue that his body was rejecting something but he had no idea what. Shivering, he made it back to the secure little camp site tucked into the woods near the town. He had to check on Scott.
He forced himself to squat by the fire, warming his cold hands. He wanted to just curl up in a little ball and die. It had been a long time since he had been this cold and tired. On top of it, he was extremely weak and dizzy. He had found two bullet wounds and they were not healing nearly as fast as they should. Something was wrong. He looked across the fire at the small lean-to and took in the sight of Scott's chest rising and falling under the coats. At least he was still breathing. He closed his eyes and rested them on his forearms, balanced on his knees. He would not lie down. He couldn't.
A rustling movement and a low groan reached his ears. He slowly raised his head and found Scott looking back at him. His hand was up and he was taking aim with his visor.
A surge of anger coursed through Logan. "You do and I'll rip that off your face and shove it down your throat," he spat, his own throat burning with pain from speaking the words.
To his amazement, Scott seemed relieved and lowered his hand. In response to his cocked eyebrow, Scott shrugged and said, "I wanted to make sure it was you."
"Great, your blind."
"I'm not blind."
"Then why?" Logan thought about Scott's injuries. Could be the blood loss. Maybe he was hallucinating. He decided to humor him.
"You weren't you back at the warehouse." Scott was not looking for ward to the lecture he was sure Logan would come up with.
"You're dreaming. Don't sit up."
Scott, trying to sit up, fell back down on the leaves with a louder groan. "Man, what happened?"
"I'll tell you what happened since I came to if you will tell me what happened in the warehouse," came the reply.
Scott was stunned. He surveyed Logan carefully. He was only wearing pants and boots and was occasionally shivering, his muscles constricting powerfully in an effort to keep him warm. The bullet wound on his chest was still visible, although it was no longer bleeding. The same was true of the wound on his scalp. Scott took in his eyes. Logan was serious. He didn't know. "Alright. You should put something on before you pass out, though. It's cold."
Logan snorted.
Scott glanced down at himself and realized where Logan's coat was. He looked back at Logan, puzzled.
"Leave it there. You need it more than I do at the moment." He paused, trying to sort out the sequence of events in his head. " I came to in the water. You were under me. I stood up and pulled you to the surface. The warehouse was going down so I got us out from under and made it to shore without attracting attention. I got the water out of your lungs and got you breathing again and tried to warm you up. That's when I found where a plank ripped open your leg. I patched you up, carried you here, and made a fire and a lean-to so I could get you warm again. When it was dark, I moved the car to an old logging road about two hundred yards away from here, hid it, and pulled two bottles of water from the trunk. Yours is near your head. I suggest you drink it because I have no idea how much blood you lost."
Scott reached for the bottle and drank while he tried to take it all in. "Cell phone?"
"Dead in the water."
"Radios in the car?"
"None."
"None?" He thought for a moment. He had taken them out to conduct a test for Hank. Damn, he forgot to put them back in. He tried harder to sit up and finally made it. That was when he caught sight of his leg. A wave of nausea hit him and he started to fall back. To his surprise, Logan was behind him, catching him so he wouldn't hit his head.
"I want to see."
Logan grunted and eased him back up. Scott peered under the sliced left pant leg at the neat bandaging that hid the wound. Now he knew what happened to Logan's shirt. He quickly took a look at one of the hands holding him up and saw that the knuckles still bore the marks of the claws. What had it cost Logan to save his ass?
"I have to put you down for a second."
Logan put Scott back down on the leaves and left the campsite for a few minutes. When he came back, he looked shaken and determined. "Scott, we have to leave. I have to get you to the car."
"We should stay here."
"I don't know that I can take that chance. The temperature is dropping. There is no more water and you died on me once already. If I can get us to the car, I think we might have a better chance of getting you out of here." Logan swayed before him.
"You think? Why are you so weak?" Scott paled. "What did you just do out there?"
"I threw up, if you must know. That's number four. One more and I won't have enough strength to get us to the car let alone drive."
Scott thought for a moment. "Is anyone after us?"
"The warehouse collapsed. I heard the sheriff say they are only looking for five bodies, thanks to what the old man told them. It's going to take them a couple of days to clear out the mess and figure out what happened."
"So why can't we stay here?"
Logan took a deep, painful breath. "Because soon I'm going to hit a wall I can't overcome. I know my limitations, even if you don't. My system is going haywire for some reason. Without rest or food, my body will begin to shut down so it can heal. Everything we have on is wet. The temperature is dropping. I need to get you to the car so I can get it started and get the heater running. We have enough gas to keep it going for a while. If I pass out, you will still be warm. If I pass out here, no one can keep the fire going for you and the wind and the temperature will kill you."
"I can keep a fire going with my optics."
"Not if there isn't anyone to get the firewood. We need to get you out of here."
"What about you?"
"I'll live. A three day sleep and I'll be good as new. Starving, maybe, but good as new. I'm not the one in danger here. You are." He looked at Scott and seemed to read his mind. "If you think I can do this without you, then we're screwed. I need you to keep me from passing out."
"You're that far gone?" It was hard to believe that Logan needed him for anything.
"I'm that far gone."
"Just leave me and get out of here."
"Don't give me that leader bullshit. You don't get it. I can't make it to the car without you. I would just curl up into a ball and fall into a coma. I'd come to eventually and you'd be dead. I need you to get us to the car and that's all there is to it. Jean would have my hide if you died again."
"Jean! She's close enough to get a fix on me."
Logan clamped his jaw shut against a rising feeling of nausea. "We need to go now. She can reach you on the way." He quickly disassembled the camp, carefully leaving very little traces. He put his coat on Scott despite the younger man's protests.
He pulled Scott up into a sitting position and knelt before him, offering his broad back. Scott suddenly realized just how weak he was when he had trouble putting his arms over Logan's shoulders. Logan reached up and, grabbing hold of Scott's forearms, stood up. The effort was almost too much for either of them. Logan staggered and Scott blinked back the blackness that swirled around him. Logan shifted his load and got his arms under Scott's legs, making it more of a piggyback ride.
Logan took a step. "Okay. I'm going to keep walking. You have to keep talking. Make me answer every now and then. We need to stay in the direction we are facing right now. Got it?"
"Got it." He was determined now. His life depended on him staying awake. Logan had made that very clear. He would go home to Jean. He had to. Scott concentrated on the pain in his leg and the path in front of them. "Let's go."
The day was not lovely anymore. It was turning into a nightmare of an evening. Ten minutes had gone by since they squealed out of the parking lot back in that little town. Marie wanted to scream. Traffic was backed up for miles due to an accident and she was stuck in the middle of it. She scanned the map again and cursed the rubberneckers in front of her. She looked over at Jean but couldn't ask the question again.
Jean saw the glance. "Nothing," she whispered. She closed her eyes. Then opened them quickly. "Wait! He's alive! I can't hear him, though. He must be unconscious. I know where he is now. We can get to him." She took in the traffic for the first time. "Can't we get around this?"
"Ah'm tryin'." Marie gritted her teeth. "Show me." She threw the map at Jean who caught it deftly.
"Right here. He's here. Take a right just past that white truck and we can make it on these side roads."
Gauging the traffic, it would take another thirty minutes just to get to where that truck was now. Marie gripped the steering wheel tightly and prayed they would be in time.
He was sinking fast. In a last ditch effort he managed to mutter, "Talk."
Scott tried to focus. "Alright. Do you want me to tell you what happened in the warehouse?"
"Later."
"We'll try some yes or no questions, then." He tried to get his mind going. "Have you ever deflected a bullet with your claws before?"
"What?" Logan blinked. He readjusted the load on his back and told his feet to keep moving. "Yes."
"Have you ever deflected a bullet away from someone else before?"
Logan mumbled.
"What? I couldn't hear you. Go to that tree toward your right."
Logan cleared his throat painfully. "Not that I know of."
"Stop here."
Logan stopped. They were under the tree. Scott reached up and grabbed a limb above him. He pulled as hard as he could and eased the weight off of Logan's back for a minute. Logan felt like he would drop with relief. He shook his head and stretched a little. He could feel Scott start to shake with the effort.
"Down. Now."
Scott let himself back down.
"Thanks. That helped." Logan's mind had cleared a little. "What's the deal with the claws?"
"I'll tell you later. Aim more for that big spruce."
"Cedar."
"Whatever."
They had covered about half of the distance. Scott could tell that Logan was hurting, badly. His own chest ached and his leg was throbbing so hard it was difficult to concentrate on talking.
"I know you sometimes drink and smoke cigars. Have you ever tried drugs?" Scott knew he was fishing for information at a time when Logan was least likely to resist.
"No."
"Don't like them?"
"Not...interested."
"Why did you come with me today?"
Logan gritted his teeth. "Satisfy...your curiosity."
Scott was taken aback. "You knew I was trying to get to know you better?"
"Yes." Logan hissed. He narrowly missed tripping on a root. A cold wind whipped past them and he felt Scott shiver. He was running out of time. He tried to speed up his pace.
"Logan, don't! You're killing yourself." Scott hung on as best he could. "Why are you doing this?"
"I do...what I...have to do...for as...long...as I...need...to do it." Logan's lungs worked desperately in the cold air. Every breath was agony. He slipped on a pile of leaves and just managed to keep his balance.
"Do you feel pain at all?"
"Yes," he gasped. "More than...you know."
"Why don't you let me die?"
"Not...an...option," he growled.
Twenty more yards and they would make it. Logan slid, staggered, and fell just as they reached the car. Scott passed out on impact from the pain. Logan clawed desperately at the handle and then remembered the keys. Shaking violently, he managed to unlock the door. He gathered Scott up and put him in the passenger seat, adjusting it so that the seat was all the way down. He slammed the door shut and crawled to the other side. Letting himself in, he shut the door and cranked the engine. It roared to life and he adjusted the heater to blow on Scott. He rested his head on the steering wheel. Driving was not possible at this point. All he could do was hope the gas held out until Jean could find them.
"There! Up ahead!"
Marie strained her eyes in the darkness. She saw the old logging road and floored it.
"Logan?"
Logan shuddered. He had been trying to stay awake so he could answer Jean's questions when she got there, but his brain seemed to be spiraling downward. He grunted.
Scott tried hard to move but couldn't. "Logan?"
"Yeah."
"Do you love Rogue?"
Logan managed to raise his head from the steering wheel. "What?"
"She's the only one. Xavier's persuasive, but you aren't gullible. You don't seem to be interested in Jean anymore. Who are you sticking around for? It can't be me or Storm. It has to be Rogue." Scott licked his parched lips. He was losing it, he knew, but he wanted his curiosity satisfied.
"You aren't making sense." Logan leaned back against the seat but could not find the lever to let it down into the same position as Scott's.
"What is keeping you from dating her? Is it her skin?"
"No. Hang on, Scott. Jean's coming."
"Are you afraid?"
"No. You're out of your noggin."
"You don't know how?"
Silence.
"You don't know how." Scott nodded to himself. He had figured it out. He whispered conspiratorially, "She loves you, too."
"That's nice to know." Logan was still shivering despite the interior of the car. The windows were all steamed up. The car heater was doing its job and he hoped Scott was out of danger.
"Just ask her out."
"Hey, Rogue-d'ya think I'm sexy? I think you're sexy. Let's go out on a date."
Scott frowned. "Don't make fun of this. You should be a couple."
"Like you and Jean, right?"
"What did you see in Jean?"
Logan thought hard for a moment. "She reminded me of somebody, like a dream I can't remember. I thought she knew me but she didn't. That's when I knew I didn't know her. I still get that feeling when I'm around her, though. Maybe I was married to someone like her or something."
"No."
"No?"
"You can kill yourself thinking about all the what-ifs. I know. I do it all the time over missions."
Logan sighed. For once, Scott was right.
"I'll teach you," whispered Scott.
"Teach me what," mumbled Logan.
"I'll teach you how to date if you will teach me how to be a better leader."
"I don't lead."
"Teach me how to kick someone's ass then." Scott yawned and closed his eyes.
"Deal," muttered Logan. He had come to the wall. His body refused to do anything more. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell forward, hitting his head on the steering wheel.
He was warm, enveloped in softness. Something in him told him to get up and eat. He refused to move. His ears detected a faint sniffling and his nose told him who it was. Blearily, he opened his eyes. He was in his room. For some reason he found this surprising. He looked over and saw Marie on the chair with her face in her hands.
"Marie," he croaked.
She quickly raised her head. A smile spread across her face and he took in the beauty of it. Her features turned more menacing as she remembered what she had rehearsed. Oh, shit, he thought. Here it comes.
"Ah swear. You do that again and Ah will personally kick your ass. Don't tell me that wasn't macho shit."
"It wasn't macho shit."
She stopped and lost her place in the lecture she had prepared. "What?"
"I had no other choice. He was dying. I had to do whatever it took to get him back to Jean."
"You could have died," she sniffled.
"Not a chance and you know it."
"You've been in a coma for four days."
"So?" he countered.
"So Ah've been worried sick," she finished lamely.
His eyebrows went up. "You have?"
Her eyes softened at his alarm. "Ah have."
He sat up, still surrounded by blankets. "Come here."
She sat on the bed and leaned into the hug, careful not to make contact with any skin. He was warm. He had been so cold when they had managed to get the frozen handle of the car door open that, for a fleeting moment, she had thought he was dead. Jean had checked his eyes and told her he was comatose. Scott had actually come to and told them to put Logan to bed for a few days and pointed out that he didn't need to wake up in a lab. Jean was in no mood to argue and did as he said when they got back to the mansion. Marie sighed happily as Logan stoked her hair.
Logan sadly kissed her on the top of her head. He had begun to remember something about waking up in the water. He thought he could still see Scott's expression and he shuddered. If it was true, he had to leave her. He was a danger to them all. How could he stay here now after what he did? He would talk with Summers and see if any answers he gave about what happened in the warehouse would change his mind.
Logan walked into the lab, gritting his teeth. Bad enough that he had to talk to Summers, he had to do it in the worst room in the mansion. Scott looked up as he neared the bed.
"Thank God. Now maybe Jean will let me out of here if you're on your feet."
"Scott..."
"You were wrong, it took you four days to get over it."
"Scott..."
"Jean put 42 staples in my leg. That was some gash you bandaged."
"Summers." It came out as a menacing growl.
"You need some answers."
"I need to know what happened in that warehouse. We both know you didn't drown by accident."
"So you finally figured that out."
"Yes."
Scott unloaded all that he could remember and watched Logan's face for a reaction.
Logan frowned. "Even if I was high, that doesn't change the fact that I killed you."
"It does in my book. I've had four days to think about this, you haven't. Your first instinct was to protect me. You stopped the bullet, didn't you? Even out of your gourd, you didn't make a move on me until you thought I was going to attack you. Hey, you brought me back when you came to your senses."
"What if I hadn't come back? What if something else like this happens one day? Are you willing to take that chance again?"
Scott studied the face in front of him. He still remembered seeing it underwater as Logan held him down. There had been no pity, no fear, no remorse in those eyes. But the eyes had not really belonged to Logan, the man, and the man was the one standing before him now.
"It was my fault as much as yours. If I hadn't had the brilliant idea to dump you in the water, you would have come down eventually on your own. So, yes, I'm willing to take that chance again. I made the same mistake those bastards did that put that metal in you. They wanted a big, bad rock and they made you into one. I kept thinking of you as a rock, too. You're a man, Logan, not a thing. You are part of this team and I would want you as my backup any day, even though you are a pain in the ass."
Logan looked at him with a poker face. Scott could not tell if he was convinced.
Finally Logan spoke in a low, serious tone that made Scott's skin crawl. "I'm a killer. Don't forget that. I'm very good at it."
"You're a fighter, capable of killing."
"Don't play boy scout," Logan snarled.
"Believe me, I know just how dangerous you are. This isn't my good deed for the day. I'm saying I trust you. Can you trust yourself?"
"Don't trust me. Next time cut my head off with your laser."
Scott blinked. "Would that do it?"
"I don't know. It might."
"I'll remember it. Now, are you staying or not?"
Logan shook his head. "I don't get you. Here's your chance to get rid of me. Why not?"
"Why? I told you I trusted you. You figure it out."
"I still don't like you."
"And I still think you're a pain in the ass."
"Dick."
"Just so long as we understand each other. Now, about those dating lessons...."
"Keep your nose out of it, Summers."
Scott grinned at Logan's retreating back.
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Story Notes:
Response to opening line challenge 10.9.02: Diplomacy is the art of saying, "Nice doggy"…until you can find a big enough rock.